The commentary box and the ivory tower

Dean Jones8217;s 8216;slip8217; reveals the increasing gap between those playing the game and those pulling the strings

Dean Jones8217;s crack terming South African cricketer Hashim Amla a 8220;terrorist8221; is revealing in more ways than one. And do disregard the Australian8217;s pointless defence that he thought he was off-air because that would simply expand the circle of implication 8211; because, in that case, what would that tell you about the state of commentary in world cricket that tolerates private shorthand for religiousracial backgrounds?

Yes, it shows that racism persists not just in contact sports like football. It also confirms the changes being wrought in cricket as it is sought to be globalised by national boards, the ICC and content providers 8212; to make it attractive at ever more offshore venues India versus West Indies in the US, anyone? by isolating its entertainment quotient.

And, in illustrating the sad point, Jones could not have picked a more apt context. This South African team, in the course of whose failed chase to Test victory Amla helped get a wicket that drove the commentator to such jest, is at a particularly historic milestone in their country8217;s effort to get past the legacy of apartheid. For these past two Test matches, they were led for the first time ever by a non-white. Ashwell Prince8217;s was a temporary appointment to the post 8211; with injured skipper Graeme Smith certain to reclaim the leadership. But the occasion was huge. It caught the imagination of the cricketing world that South Africa had got past the legacy of segregation.

Scattered in occasional appearances on the cricketing beat are confirmations of the game8217;s USP. Take the social composition of the South African team. During India8217;s 8220;friendship tour8221; of Pakistan in 2004, Lahore8217;s greatest bowler, Fazal Mahmood, smiled when asked what it was that kept him returning to the stadium. Give me a paper and a pen, he said. And wrote: C-R-I-C-K-E-T. Let me tell you what it8217;s about, he said. He was passing through South Africa in the 1960s when he felt the acute racial segregation by its government. He began an advocacy campaign, which finally resulted in South Africa being suspended by the ICC in 1970.

It was an international effort that led finally to the dismantling of apartheid in the 1990s. Last month, a day at the Sinhalese Sports Club in Colombo, when Prince was preparing for his first Test as captain, showed the returns of Mahmood8217;s faith in cricket. South African team manager Goolam Rajah recalled the anger of people of colour within his country: 8220;We would say, we can8217;t play normal sport in an abnormal society.8221;

That anger is still palpable. Even as he prepared to lead his side against a resurgent Sri Lanka, Prince admitted: 8220;I know people personally who tell me: we hope you do well, but we don8217;t care what happens to the team. That8217;s the one thing I8217;d like to change as captain.8221;

As C.L.R. James wrote, 8220;A national hero must have a nation.8221; So the acute sensitivity of South Africans who8217;d once been segregated because of the colour of their skin. It8217;s a sentiment caught in a remark by Makhaya Ntini, the first black player to come into the South African team from the 8220;development8221; programme, that he particularly likes to play in the West Indies: 8220;I look left and right, and I see black people watching.8221;

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Jones showed this week how distant the commentary box has become from the crowds. It fails to see the action on the field in a social and political context. And for our cricketing boards, ever enthused to reap the dividends of telecast rights by taking the game to new venues 8212; never mind the disconnect between spectators and the teams 8212; it should serve as a reminder. To invoke James again, what do they know of cricket who only cricket know?