The annual cricketing drama of the Indian Premier League is back. Droves of fans throng stadiums to witness spectacles of brutal power-hitting with unabashed pomp. Having been to some matches a few years ago, the zeal is no doubt mimetic – like most desires of our species. But where are we headed? How long can we indulge in this over-hyped mash of sport and Bollywood?
In some senses, the state of T20 cricket leagues mirrors the world of politics. Over-the-top swagger and intrigue grab eyeballs. Shoulder barges, coarse sledges and feigned aggression make for irresistible reels. Sounds familiar? “This is going to make great television”, declared a colourful political personality after a recent verbal sparring with his Ukrainian counterpart. Emotive performance, not only of the bat-and-ball kind, matters when social media algorithms are ever-ready to peddle extremities of any kind. The cruder the outburst, the wider the reach.
The IPL also wears a cloak of celebration over the ghastly skeleton of vulgar corporatisation. Cricketers ply their trades for different gaffers. The spontaneity with which loyalties are shuffled would make writers of reality TV blush. In search of the elusive combination of building a perfect squad, most teams chop and churn players with unnerving spontaneity.
Sporty competition was enacted as cutthroat rivalry. Cricket morphed into a circus. A sign of our times?
Consider the contrary. When Bangalore retains a player for 18 consecutive years since the first edition, it seems honourable – one could argue. I am not so sure. Clinging on to the same player without winning the championship, even once, says something. When the same player captained for eight gruesome years out of the winless 18, one might conclude that the bell of madness has clearly been tolled. But the flu has spread to other teams as well. Apart from game skills, most IPL teams prize a wide social media following while picking their captains and marquee players. A conjugal connection with the movies? You are no longer just a player. You are a potent phenomenon.
I am perhaps being harsh. In Virat Kohli’s defence, he truly revolutionised fitness in Indian cricket. The Indian cricket team’s fitness standards grew dramatically after his initial transformation. The problem arose when genuine appreciation spilled into overhyped celebrityhood. Sporty competition was enacted as cutthroat rivalry. Cricket morphed into a circus. A sign of our times?
A futurist might well argue that cricket is only moving with consumer preferences. Dazzle and show is what the market demands. Like all good old capitalist ventures, the vacuum of demand is simply being plugged.
This brings me to the nub of my fleeting disillusionment. Like international politics, cricket earnestly demands the substance of an earlier era. An era where Test cricket made headlines. In our chaotic times, the business of diplomacy also demands the twin doses of the long-format game: abundant patience and perseverance. It is time we celebrate the Alastair Cooks, Hashim Amlas, Jimmy Andersons, Glenn McGraths and Jacques Kalllis’ of the world. Their restraint and composure emerged from the river of unalloyed skill. Skills honed over years of shaping and fine-tuning. Test cricket, like good diplomacy, takes time. It is assiduously shaped, not brazenly proclaimed.
I shall not force the dichotomy here. Being an excellent Test player does not naturally make you a poor T20 one. As the pundits say, the base of a fine batsman remains the same. Just look at Ajinkya Rahane’s effortless stroke play in this season of the IPL. Likewise, in statecraft, diplomatic reticence and restraint do not mean an inability to confidently defend your country’s interests. If that were so, small countries like Oman or Singapore would be bungling nobodies. Their silent backdoor manoeuvring over decades has placed them in relatively cushy spots, irrespective of the dramatic churn unleashed by Washington.
If the uncertainty of our collective predicament wracks you, take refuge in the gradually dissipating temperament of Test cricket. The game progresses for long durations, knocks your mettle and probes character in a manner no three-hour T20 run fest does. Does this all sound like a sanctimonious prayer of a puritan? I am afraid it is. Like all fine things in life, the virtues of Test cricket remain unvarying. It is time we treasure them.
