IPL - The Pied Piper of cricket!
Done, dusted and disgusted – these were the three words that came into my mind after the Rohit Sharma-led Mumbai Indians lifted the cup beating the controversy-marred Chennai Super Kings in one of the most lop-sided finals in IPL history. If the first two words were the feelings of a cricket writer covering the billion-dollar tournament relentlessly for two months, the last one was that of an ardent cricket lover.
Disgust seems to be the operative word here. IPL 6 has left most fans disgusted and angry; very angry, in fact. It has not only put the game we love into massive disrepute, it has put the entire tournament, and cricket in general, under a cloud of doubt and suspicion.
Songs, dance, money, bookies, police, car chases and women – this IPL has been the baap of most Bollywood thrillers. Oh, and there was a bit of cricket too. However, the off-field drama was so intriguing that whatever happened on-field in the last week was looked at with sheer cynicism. Be it a stunning catch from Kieron Pollard, or a perfect yorker from Lasith Malinga, every single moment of brilliance was demeaned, tagged as a set-up, and was viewed through deceit and sleaze-tinted glasses.
But this wasn’t the case when it started a few years back. Though the purists twitched their nose and voiced their concerns, the concept of the amalgamation of the two biggest passions (cricket and Bollywood) of the country was irresistibly mouth-watering. The city-based teams, the superstar owners, the auction, the cheerleaders, and the DJs added to the razzmatazz, and BCCI created a new addiction for Indians. Though it was an instant hit, the fear of this overtly dramatized version taking over the game mortified the lovers of Test cricket. If the heavy bats and monstrous hits signalled the end of the species named “bowlers”, the addition of the cheerleaders was received with immense condemnation.
Yet the entire country has stayed hooked on to this so-called “farce” for six years now. We watch it, criticize it and vow never to turn on the TV sets again for the next edition. But every year, come the month of April, that narcissistic trumpet drone acts as the addictive Pied Piper tune, forcing us to waste our precious time every evening watching cricket in its crudest form.
We claim to not like it, and yet we are glued to the action every night.
We don’t like the cricket kits that show off millions of sponsors, but hardly pay any attention to the team badge. We get irritated by Shah Rukh Khan waving out at the fans; our stomachs churn while listening to the preposterous shayaries of a bearded “expert”. We can’t bear Nita Bhabi and Shilpa Shetty discussing team strategies on TV and feel hard done by Preity Zinta who goes around offering free hugs to her “will-never-ever-win-the-IPL” team members.
Our ear drums are put to test by the “Double Gees” and “Double Dees” of certain New Zealander who seems incapable of coming to grips with proper nouns, and we simply hate the nothing-to-do-with-cricket anchors and the bombshells who ask questions (irrelevant ones!) in their Cristiano Ronaldo stance.
Yet, every year, we make BCCI richer by watching this mother of all T20 competitions squeezed between the flurry of commercials and strategic time-outs. These “IPL hours” could have been devoted to better things in life – studying for better grades in school, reading a book, spending a few precious moments with the family, or even contemplating the bigger issues, whatever they are, of life. But we choose to watch the cricket carnival because every match resembles the masala-filled episodes of a mega soap featuring the rich and famous.
However, even with so many voices against it, the tournament somehow survives the controversies and backlash every time. Each edition brings along its set of problems, and the IPL goes through its most stringent tests only to emerge even stronger in the next edition. It had encountered problems with player participation, national security concerns, corruption charges, and now the spot-fixing scam. It even saw its creator overthrown and participating teams disbanded. It has witnessed similar leagues mushroom around the world, and has faced immense criticism from international players and officials who have been unable to deal with the shift of power to the sub-continent and have found it difficult to swallow the grandeur of a domestic league.
So what keeps it ticking? What makes it so robust that even after so many debacles, it hardly stumbles, leave aside tripping?
The answer is simple – although there’s a lot of drama created around it, the IPL still about cricket. Yes, it does come with a dash of entertainment, but it’s the quality of cricket on display that keeps it alive and kicking. It promotes the game beyond the general territories of the country and rewards talent. It defies national boundaries and provides for an opportunity for the not-so-talented ones to make a mark.
Apart from the Chris Gayle sixes, the Dwayne Bravo jigs and the Lasith Malinga toe-crushers, the IPL offers an 18-year-old Sanju Samson the chance to fist bump the legendary Rahul Dravid after a boundary, while it also helps a veteran like Rajat Bhatia to share his ideas with Brett Lee. It allows Ricky Ponting and Sachin Tendulkar to share the same dug-out and helps a ball boy to pick up valuable batting tips from David Warner. It makes Harbhajan Singh hug Andrew Symonds after a wicket and prompts Virat Kohli to take on his fellow mate from Delhi. It forges Test cricketers out of the Watsons, Ashwins and Jadejas and it gives us hope that Rohit Sharma will someday step up and usurp the number four spot in the Test team.
Despite the above scenarios, that only the IPL has made possible, the tournament is viewed as a devil that has made a mockery of the classic version of the game with its crass and commercial overtones. It is seen as a wily monster that will eventually destroy cricket; and with the latest controversy, the end shouldn’t be too far away. The ‘true’ followers of the game detest it. Anyone who prefers IPL over the other versions is looked down upon, and if your job description includes “IPL coverage”, you are far from being a “real” cricket analyst. However, the most intriguing aspect about the IPL is that whether one likes it or not, everyone has an opinion about it.
All of us, including yours truly, have already passed our judgements about IPL 6, and have almost sealed the fate of IPL 7. Will there be an IPL 7? We want it to be scrapped to save the Gentleman’s game, but it has become too strong to be taken down and will carry on spreading its addiction, wading through the criticism and hatred. We will abuse it on social media and will oppose its existence on discussion threads; but come April 2014, when that irritating trumpet sounds its hooter, the cricketing world will be gripped by IPL fever, yet again!