Its that time of the year again, when we cheer for a South African over an Indian, just because he happens to be wearing the colours of a team claiming to represent a region in India. We feign ignorance and pretend to forget that the opposition Indian players are the same whose performances we cross our fingers for, at times pray for when their names are in the team sheet of Team India.
The Indian Premier League is a unique concept, the only problem with it being that it is an entire lift off from the much patronized Indian Cricket League. Subhash Chandra must be wondering why he does not have contacts in the BCCI. If he had, by this time his name would have been splashing across papers as a certain Lalit Modi's is these days.
This is not to suggest that I detest the Indian Premier League, or do not watch its matches. Being a cricket fanatic, following such a revolutionary tournament becomes a sort of responsibility. But I do wish at times that it was more conducive to pleasurable viewing for the normal cricket fan. At the moment, when I turn on the television and watch a match currently under way, what I notice is something as follows:
The bright jerseys add to the already dynamic ground sights and sounds. But behold, what meets my eyes makes me wonder whether this is a cricket match, or a supermarket. Every inch of the player jersey is crammed with as many product logos as is possible such that the jersey colour is still distinguishable. Shoulders, upper arm, shoulder blade, chest. Very few body parts are spared (thank goodness for those which are!). Even the cap has a product glaring out at the you from both the sides. As the IPL grows from 8 teams to 10, 60 matches to 90, I would not bet against the logos spreading onto the stomach, lower back, thighs, legs and the pads donned on the feet. That would be some sight eh? And surely the advertisement costs would vary given the location of display. For example for a product, getting a place on the pads would mean dishing out more money, given that there would be more advertisement opportunities during the replays for LBWs.
Another thing that intrigues me is how every aspect of the game has been commercialised. Oh sorry, almost every aspect. Although they have the DLF maximum, Citi moment of success, and the new entrant, Karbonn Kamaal Catch, they still have scope for the Pepsi-Dil-Maange-More direct hit, Mountain Dew bouncer, HappyDent White maiden over, and the most highly priced Videocon Run. Hence teams would then score 154 Videocon runs, and win by 5 LG wickets. If we were to go absolutely crazy, we could have the Lays bowled, Aquafina stumping, and Phillips run out, but lets leave that to those big brains who run the entire circus.
And spare a thought for the circus masters-the commentators. Do they not mind becoming salesmen during the tournament? The new strategi-oops- Max Mobile Strategic Time-Out is an example. The commentators have not yet been able to train their minds that it the Max Mobile time out, and not as boring a thing as a simple strategic time out. And no, we do not snigger when the commentators correct themselves half way through saying "strategic timeout". But I am sure they will learn by the next year, until they have a few more new things to catch up on.
Also, the good old days had one or at max a couple of advertisements in between overs. The IPL however, has one or at max a couple of advertisements on a screen in the stadium between balls. I guess this is what people relate modernization and generation gaps to.
Anyways, let me get back to watching the Comedy Circus now. The only relief offered is that the players themselves are genuine, and have not yet changed their names to Uncle Chips Anil Kumble, Masafi Dale Steyn, Alpenleibe Shane Warne, and the likes.
And to all those who thought I went overboard with the description, I was just following the same exaggeration formula applied by the administrators of this tournament. But let me give it to them, after all:
"The whole thing is that ki bhaiya sabse bada RUPAIYA"
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