| Published on 21-09-2007 In Sports | | Viewed 2543 times | | IS THIS CRICKET OR BASEBALL? |
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| Written by
Amit Sengupta | 
In the artificially simulated, brazenly profit-driven 'baseball fever' of the slam-bang cricket of 20-20, one uncanny question is doing the rounds among cricket fans across the Indian spectrum: Is Ajit Agarkar related to BCCI President Sharad Pawar?
No, this is not a mindless question. Since the shift of the power paradigm from the powerful 'Jagmohan Dalmia-led Calcutta lobby' into the hands of the ' Bombay lobby', the conspiracy theorists in Delhi are having a field day. Especially when it comes to the 'nomination' of fake fast bowler-all rounder Ajit Agarkar in the Indian team in all forms of cricket -- despite his blatantly and repeatedly poor performance in game after game. So why is Agarkar in the team when he single-handedly should take credit for the victory margins of the rival teams even while he gets hammered in all parts of the field day after day, even by tail-enders in the death overs.
Besides, he is not a fast bowler, he is not a batsman – having a record of sorts for scoring huge number of ducks -- his physique and body language is not that of a fast bowler, his fielding is so-so; by all cricketing counts of merit, he does not stand a change in a Ranji state level team. And yet, he is there, year after year, test after test, one-day after one-day, and now, despite definitely ageing, he has been incorporated in the T-20 team where the average age is 21!
This is a brazen and transparent case of favouritism, and it's funny that MS Dhoni is continuing the complacent pro-establishment legacy of Rahul Dravid, at the expense of Indian cricket, its pride and its great legacy. Even the 'Bombay commentators' all over TV seem to be totally ignorant of the incredibly miserable track-record of Agarkar; they will pick on everybody, except this man. That is why the buzz is all over: Is Ajit Agarkar a relative of Sharad Pawar, the boss of the obscenely rich BCCI?
Witness the fact that youngsters like Robin Uthappa, Rohit Sharma, Ranadeb Bose and even Yusuf Pathan have been cooling their heals for such long periods, despite consistently performing in the domestic circuit, just because favourites like Agarkar must bowl those hugely expensive lollypops in game after game. So what is this whole damned drama of merit scoring over reservation? And why should talented youngsters cool their heels while ageing cricketers are given innumerable chances despite repeated failures?
These apart, and at the risk of sounding utterly cynical, are we playing cricket or is it American baseball? Indeed, without the Americans playing the game, the profit-driven mandarins of international and Indian cricket have effectively sealed the fate of the classical game by turning it into a slam-bang version of baseball.
If this is not Americanisation of our culture, what is it, even while half-naked cheerleaders shake their booty after every four and six!
So is this game all about sixes and fours only, bereft of skill, music, style, craft, patience, intelligence, and of course, great talent? So is this game only about hitting the ball through the fence into the advertisement boards and beyond it, again and again, so that the crowd of this gladiator show goes all frenzied and hysterical, going for the kill, even as the bowlers are butchered all over? So is this high all for money, money, money, because it's a rich man's world? And how much shorter can it get, really, in the long and short of mindless profit unleashed?
Surely, next you can have an 11-player team playing an 11over match with 11 bowlers bowling from one end? Or you can have a computer-simulated game with no umpires or bowlers and only female cheerleaders cheering the sixes and fours? The more short you give it, the less it is: let the crowds go crazy. Indeed, if it's all about money and entertainment, then who cares a damn for the nuances of the game?
But the irony remains: the slam bang can't replace the silken music of classicism in the lazy square cuts and cover drives of Gundappa Vishwanath, Mohammad Azharuddin or David Gower, or the solid cricketing technique of Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar against fast bowlers, or the skilled domination of Don Bradman, the lovely strokes of the 'god on the off-side', Saurav Ganguly, or the great mind games of old-fashioned spinners like Lance Gibbs or Bhagwat Chandrashekhar. They waited the game out; they gave it depth, rigour, craft, patience and melody, like a painter, novelist or musician.
They did not just go out there like macho American gladiators banging their batting wood like a baseball bat – with the crowd crying for another bang-bang quickie. Truly, how much more mindless, short and stupid can it all get? |
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