The IPL - Love it or not ?

Browse for the IPL on the web, and you get a whole slew of posts on it, on cricket websites, on newspapers, on blogs. But there are not many columns which would make the Mr. Lalit Modi beam with pride - excluding those by the players and commentators of course.

Every second writer that we come across on the net lambasts the league. Viciously. The criticisms are, by and large, uniform. Here we go.

- Sixes are now DLF Maximums, every turnaround in the match is a CITI Moment, every also-ran, under-23 kid is now in contention for the CITI Find of the Tournament award, and Vodafone, as if zoo-zoos are not enough, keep on inventing outrageous ‘ultimate’ guessing games, which only leave you puzzled.

- If time-breaks in a match were an absolute no-no, we now have a compulsory time-out, every game. Not once, but twice. Yeah, and we are not counting the innings break.

- We all grew up eating, drinking and sleeping cricket. Cricket was religion, they said, and Sachin was God. Now, Ravi Shastri, addressed as an ‘overblown commentator’, is said to have offered the throne to The Commissioner himself. Shastri had gone on record, addressing Modi as ‘Moses’, it was said.

- The whole thing could be fixed. It might could even be a pre-planned script.

But this entire hullabaloo, does the average cricket fan care for? If I were asked, I would have simply quipped that I couldn’t care less.

Accept it, after the Kerry Packer revolution; IPL is the next biggest thing to hit Cricket. It is heavily commercialized, agreed. But in this age, what isn’t?

An average cricket fan could only dream of matches where a Shane Warne would bowl to a Matthew Hayden or Sachin taking guard against Anil Kumble. Most of the lineups in the IPL would even bear striking similarities to the World XI’s released by the ICC annually. And these guys, happily retired, wouldn’t consent to take part in a competition, if they are paid peanuts. The mind-blowing auction which preceded the tournament, with its sky high price tags only goes on to reinforce the same.

Adam Gilchrist once said he felt like a cow for sale, in a market. It is another matter that he joined IPL, and in the second edition is leading a side as well. Kevin Petersen, Andrew Flintoff and JP Duminy were left gaping, open mouthed at their astronomical price tags. They needed no further invitation to join the lucrative league.

Where does all this money come from? You can’t expect Lalit Modi and the franchisees to pump in millions just to enjoy the whole spectacle. Modi could be as much attracted to cricket and its nuances as Sonia Gandhi would be to the BJP. Money rules, that’s it. If tomorrow, Kabbadi suddenly shoots up in popularity, don’t be surprised if Modi starts endorsing a Kabbadi league even more passionately.

If he has pumped in Millions, he would want to rake in the moolah by the Billions. All of the franchisees would be listed on the stock exchange in a short time, and hence, the market value would be of prime importance. All the glitz goes on to increase the market value of their sides. In spite of their dismal record, Knight Riders are said to have the highest market value. So who can blame the sponsors and the franchisees, if they go overboard in raising money?

A rose is a rose is a rose, so goes the saying. A Six is a six is a six, whether we call it a six or a DLF Maximum. A turning point is a turning point, even if it called a CITI Moment of success. And what if sponsor’s logos adorn the entirety of the team outfits? Let them advertise, folks. Let them get a more than fair return for their investments. We wish to see this spectacle again in the coming years too, so let them.

The players don’t give each other an inch in the matches, and the average cricket fan isn’t complaining.

Who could complain? Most of the matches, barring a few, have gone down to the wire. At the business end of the tournament, six teams are battling it out for two semifinal spots. What more can you ask for? The intensity levels are simply amazing. The carnival atmosphere, with the music, film stars and the cheer girls wouldn’t please the purists for sure, but what do the purists have to show?

Test cricket is facing a stern test. Most One day internationals are starting to be tedious, drab affairs. We see test series played out on flat pitches, with teams trying to bore each other into committing mistakes. Draws seem to be order of the day, with an occasional three day test surfacing, which is most often a result of inept batting. Unless there is an Australia, or a South Africa or an India playing, there isn’t much international cricket worth watching going on. Even they can’t guarantee entertainment these days.

Two years back, we happened to see a certain tournament called the World Cup, with inconsequential, one-sided matches played day in and day out, and an extremely dominant Australia winning for the fourth time in a row. How we wished we would have a second division, a la the EPL, where we could delegate insipid teams like the West Indies and Zimbabwe! These teams were almost non-existent, simply serving to boost the averages of players from the top sides. Not to speak of Bermuda, Holland and Kenya.

Instead, here we see the likes of Dwayne Bravo, Dwayne Smith, Fidel Edwards, Ross Taylor, Dirk Nannes and Ravi Bopara, arguably from countries in the bottom rung of the test ladder, setting the stage alight with their performances for their respective teams. And their performances counted, because all the teams were evenly matched. And such contests were starting to become as rare as a white elephant, until IPL caught cricket by storm last year.

And Indian Cricket! Shouldn’t we be welcoming the IPL with both hands? Rohit Sharma, Yusuf Pathan, Ravindra Jadeja, Suresh Raina, Irfan Pathan – all these players, either emerged or came back into reckoning in the IPL. For long, we have been lamenting the non-emergence of young players and suddenly, the selectors seem to be spoilt for choice. There are several other young players too – Pragyan Ojha for one, who seem to give the senior pros a real run for their money. RP Singh and Ashish Nehra have been revelations as well, and have done their prospects no harm.

But honestly, what could have been dispensed away with, are the anchors on Sony MAX. Gaurav Kapoor and Samir Kochchar sound so clichéd that we keep wishing that the Extraaa Innings would get over as soon as it began. It’s a big glitch. Better not to talk of Mandira Bedi, it seems Sony MAX cannot find prettier girls who could articulate better. Let us wish MAX better luck, which I guess they should soon find, with the innumerable reality shows budding forth daily, on Indian Television screens.

And Bollywood seems to be driving the critics to exasperation. But let’s face it, television ratings are surest shot success meters and the SRKs, Zintas and Shettys would woo in audiences who aren’t too keen on cricket. Why should their presence dilute the cricket? Sure, one gets irritated at Priety’s chronic hugging and jumping, and SRK’s high handed talk, but why care, when you have such gorgeous cricketing action on view?

Maybe we should draw a line, between international cricket and the IPL. We watch enough commercial pot boiler films and we queue up at theatres, braving the Sun and the rain, to watch our favorite stars act in mindless comic capers. We have no qualms about leaving our brain outside the theatre. Even for a few of us who don’t really enjoy, we don’t really have a choice. Then why all the fuss about the IPL?

It’s a cocktail, the IPL. A heady mix of some really good cricket, a hell lot of money and glamour. With a shot of senselessness thrown in as well. A wholesome, palatable, pot pourrie.

Let us pardon the Commissioner for his greed.

Let us pardon the sponsors for putting their money over our cricket.

Let us pardon Ravi Shastri, Sunil Gavaskar, Harsha Bhogle, Robin Jackman and their tribe for their subservience. They have been fantastic commentators and they would continue to be so.

Let us pardon the perpetrators of the strategic time out. Let the sponsors make hay, as we walk around a bit, to exercise our lazy spines.

After a few weeks, we would be back to calling a Six a Six, a catch a catch and a turning point a turning point.

Maybe, the Khans, the Shettys, the Ambanis and the Zintas would be back, doing what they do best.

Maybe, we would be back to seeing Australia thrash a insipid New Zealand and South Africa maul a listless England. Smacking our lips at the prospect of Sri Lanka taking on the never-improving Bangladesh in a three-test triple whammy.

Maybe, we would be longing ruefully for the sight of Matthew Hayden, Adam Gilchrist, Shane Warne or Sanath Jayasurya, out on the playing field displaying their ageless guiles.

Maybe, we would miss IPL then. We can’t be sure. Cricket is such a funny game, they say.

But for now, grab some thing to eat, something to drink and settle down into your couch. For a month, leave the cynical half of your brain in the cold storage. Try if you can get the entertainment that they claim is guaranteed.

Happy viewing!