Desi Devils.
The bearded old man of cricket, W.G. Grace (1848-1915), in the instance that cricket becomes a wholly professional sport spake thus: "Betting and all kindred evils will follow in its wake, and instead of the game being followed up for love, it will simply be a matter of £ s d."

Good on WG that he had it all figured, marketing his wares way back then.

Since then however, the commercialization of cricket hitched a ride on a lazy locomotive. She’s a good old game, and that has forever been her bane. From Packer to pjs, always frowned upon. Her doomsayers, like some closet pervert, continued to loathe that which they claimed to love.

Pray, why does cricket make such contradictory idiots out of us? Why can’t we embrace cricket for what she’s worth? And set her free like a bird, like in that Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

If the IPL boomerangs, and sinks all its franchises, so be it. But if the IPL makes an AC Milan out of Mohali and a Barcelona out of Bangalore, then let’s accept that too. Their business models, however, do not dictate whether they will uplift or demean the game.

“Show me the money” was not the evil brainchild of the IPL. Nor was it just a smart-ass dialogue out of sport’s agent, Jerry McGuire’s repertoire. It is the basis of sport’s survival ever since it went pro. If anything, cricket’s been late on the take.

For cricket, unlike any other sport, will never stay put. Her life unfurls in front of our eyes, almost akin to that of a human life. Were we lost in her childhood all along? Did her adolescence annoy us? Are we alienated, now that she’s old enough to buy her meal ticket? Do we not trust her judgment? Do we suspect that she will change in some horrible way – into something we will never quite fathom? Or are we craving for one last hug? Not able to let go.

Worse, it doesn’t seem like a test cricket vs. one-day vs. twenty20 slugfest? It’s a lame, look how much money that guy’s made overnight, argument. Or how they’re selling their souls ‘n’ skills to the Devil Incorporated. Much like the nouveau riche, everybody loves to hate. Give it a few years, this will be old money, worthy of your respect, sires.

And if the bent commie mindsets are agog at the evils of new leagues of club nations, then they should take a chill pill. Or get out - and make some money too!

Have talent. Will sell. Cricket is surreal, but she lives, breathes in the real world.

Childish, how the morality-police creeps up whenever money sniffs out cricketers - the 1st commandment of cricket: when the dirty dollar comes hither, the cricketer will whither. And so, all Sachin Tendulkar’s career slumps are attributed to the ills of money. And from hereon, if and when M.S. Dhoni loses form, you know whom to blame: his Chennai franchise and the prohibitive sums that cannot be mentioned here for obvious reasons – they’re prohibitive!

Of course, going by this logic, the world’s wealthiest people should have been bankrupt many times over. Or at least misplaced their innate abilities to create wealth, thanks to the ruinous lure of money.

For reasons best known to monks who never traded in Ferraris, the IPL is allegedly the darkest hour in an honourable, if not austere life span for cricket. Even before the first million-dollar IPL ball is bowled, they stand in judgment: Not of the cricket, but of the money disproportionately involved. Not their money, not their family’s either, but money with the devil’s designs on cricket.
And then, to add credence, Delhi goes and names their IPL team Delhi Dare Devils. And the IPL anthem: Sympathy for the Devil by The Rolling Stones.

“And look Ma, they even signed on Symonds for prohibitive amounts!” They must be evil! Censor IPL. They’re the Desi Devils! With the odd Videshi villain thrown in!

Wanted: Animation in one-day cricket.

Before & Beyond India’s one-day win versus Australia in Melbourne (9th - 12th February, 2008)

Test cricket appears healthy albeit in a sick sort of way. Twenty20 appears sick but will guarantee the future health of cricket. One-day cricket is caught in the middle, running out of tricks.

It comes down to that oft-repeated question: and chances are, when marooned on a desert island, fewer respondents should choose one-day cricket as the ideal companion compared to test cricket or Twenty20.

And why won’t they? Test cricket, once the learned father of all forms cricket, is now arguably the big daddy of cricket. If this was ever in doubt, the India-Australia test series has squashed it. Years from now, the reverberations of Sydney and Perth will still be heard – and 2007-08 will be the year that some divine force threw test cricket the life jacket, though not without that eye-opening near death experience when one’s entire cricketing life flashes past. Oh right, so that’s what Douglas Jardine said to Harold Larwood! Hmmm…

Whereas Twenty20 is the babe on the threshold of an exciting new world – and a chance for everyone, even the old-timers, to revisit their youth. Though like some sick, perverted pleasure they will not admit to it openly – yet, like even the mighty warrior, Beowulf who gave into the monster’s yummy mummy, they will be hapless against the guiles of T20. And there is no shame in that.

But what about one-day cricket – it’s frankly too old to rock ‘n’ roll but too young to die. It’s much too simplistic to pin the blame on the very fabric of one-day cricket – that its very trappings were, a trap! Reducing the game from a laborious 60 to fifty overs was more of a quick fix solution. And hoping for rain, for the occasional truncated twenty over game is just living on a prayer. Or maybe that’s where T20 came from- the skies, with the rain!

If these cricket incarnates were three siblings, then clearly one-day cricket is the neglected middle one – crying for attention, game after game. First, it’s essential to grasp the problem, understand the symptoms. Else we’ll continue to toss power plays and super subs around, only to appease the likes of Courtney Walsh or a Glenn McGrath along with other reluctant batsmen. But that is not the solution.

The solution could be something drastic. Like borrowing from both test cricket and T20 – creating four innings of 25 overs each. More intervals. More action. What’s better than one T20 game – two T20 games rolled into one?

Or maybe the solution could be something simple. Reduce the number of games being played in a year. From the mindless seven match series, reduce the games to three. Increase the break between games – from one-two days to three or even four days. Going by the gargantuan sums of money involved, a few more days at the hotel won’t break the BCCI’s bank.

Do not be surprised if the quality of cricket increases manifold. Maybe teams won’t beat Australia overnight, but they will for starters, compete. And that is a big deal – today, every team aspires to beat Australia. Hopefully, they will look to accomplish this on a cricket field, and not the courthouse.

Games will stop being played to fill broadcasters and cricket Boards’ pockets. Somewhere the intensity of a test may sneak into one-day cricket again. Somehow our hearts may follow suit. Like the first time: in 1983.

After India’s win at MCG and beyond

India finally beat Australia at Melbourne in a one-day game. The last time this happened Dilip Vengsarkar was man-of-the-match. Now, he selects men for matches. Some might argue that he selects boys for matches. But that’s beside the point, or is it?

It’s no secret that this team has come under severe scrutiny from all quarters – often for not what it has, but what it doesn’t – Messer’s Dravid, Ganguly and Laxman. No surprise some skeptics even miss Kumble in this one-day squad.

And while potshot after potshot is taken at India’s young, new ODI team (now even more like its T20 avatar) – it’s worth reflecting: that a sport’s team, like good old Rome, is not built in a day. Yet sometimes, teams need to be undone in a day, in the blink of an eye – only at such times, the blink theory (the power of thinking without thinking) is not too encouraging – especially when writing off new talent.

And before you know it, the same critics will line up to applaud Ishant Sharma, Rohit Sharma and their ilk. Blinking idiots or what?
But then that’s what Indian cricket makes us all look like. Come Canberra, and India went down to Sri Lanka. And before you can dig out this defeat, there will be another victory to cherish. And then another defeat! Just around the corner. Go slow. Accident prone area. That’s one-day cricket for you!