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This is an archive article published on June 1, 2013

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A T20 tournament in Dubai inspires some pulpy prose

Book: The League

Author: Rajiv Rajendra

Publisher: Springboard

Price: Rs 99

Pages: 170

Cricket,in its purest form,has inspired sweet poetry and striking prose. The games unique narrative not many sporting contests last for five days and still remain inconclusive is often compared with life itself.

But that was the case before the game began to shrink in length. If the Test format made CLR James write a classic,the worlds most garish T20 league,the IPL,has given cricket writing a new genre,the kind where James Hadley Chase meets Hindi pulp.

Rajiv Rajendras The League,with a tell-tale dripping dagger on the cover,can sit comfortably alongside titles like Shaitan ki Maut and Laash ka Katl in the book stall of a small-town bus adda. The blurb is pregnant with possibility: Seven Teams. One Tournament. No Rules.

The League revolves around a T20 cricket tournament in Dubai with every possible IPL stereotype. While the book has been released during a season of sleaze and scandal,Rajendra takes the controversy to a different level. Here,the league is run by a shady prince with a long name,Abdel Raftar al Raftar. The plot is a simple one. In one line: Retired cricketer makes comeback to go undercover and land,as the writer puts it,in the vortex of sleaze,money,and,of course,cricket.

Despite the tense tone of the book,you tend to smile while sifting through the pages. For example,the princes moll opens a box full of shady-looking tablets,and white powder lines. Cricket is my drug,Your Highness, says Mr Cricketer,who is doubling up as Mr James Bond.

Here,cricketers are driven around by blonde girls with long locks and come-hither looks. Post-match parties take place under water,with bar girls floating around like mermaids. Players stop in the middle of a conversation to empty and sniff a sachet of white powder with the casualness of peeling a bubble gum. Among the various bizarre images,my favourite would be the one of a brash,young cricketer walking out of a disco in the wee hours with a used syringe in his hand. Explicit and exaggerated,the book certainly is. Is it entertaining? That depends on your taste.

 

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