How Indians have ruined cricket — II\
Indians who watch cricket on television are subjected to Indian commentary. In the last decade, Indian money has come to control international cricket and its telecasts. The rest of the world is also now subject to Indian commentary. They have my sympathies.
The greatest commentators in sport are Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwin, who for years have guided Tour de France viewers through the countryside. Their quality has elevated the event. The second best is Channel 9’s team of Richie Benaud and Ian Chappell (I don’t like Bill Lawry: Too excitable). Of the others, West Indians Michael Holding and Ian Bishop are first rate: Polished, elegant speakers.
Gavaskar and Shastri are second rate: No lucidity, little insight and speaking only in stock phrase and cliche. In Shastri’s case, this is often incorrect cliche: “You can be rest assured…” Manjrekar is better and so, though more evidence is needed, is Ganguly.
Sidhu is original, and perfect for Indians. He’s Wodehousian, spouting rubbish with an air of magnificence. A sort of Third World Psmith. This is why he’s so popular with us, because the equation is: Content < spectacle. Bhogle works on his language, and is committed enough to wear a hairpiece, but he’s fluffy and boring — a unique double whammy. If we must have fluff, I prefer Mandira Bedi. Lovely body and she puts it on display well.
The one way Indian commentators could immediately improve would be to talk less. Gavaskar says his best lesson in commentary was in Australia when he was with Benaud. When an Indian batsman hit his 100, the crowd applauded. Gavaskar brought the microphone to his mouth, but stopped when he felt Benaud’s hand on his wrist. Gavaskar said he later realised Benaud wanted the TV audience to take in the moment of the batsman in his solitude, a gladiator in an arena.
Lesson not learnt and no chance of enjoying this in India, with Bhogle and Shastri twittering over everything, and the crowd screaming all the time (silent only during enemy advance).
Between its spectators and commentators, Indians have ruined cricket for everybody. With the growth of our economy, this has gotten worse. Indian money has been poured into cricket, sloshing in its crevices, spilling out of its guts.
For Indian players this has meant more cash — vast sums from advertising. For Indian spectators it has meant more advertising. Advertisements between overs, advertisements between balls. Intrusive, invasive, relentless, shameless flogging. Strokes renamed by sponsors, sixes renamed after sponsors. Such vulgarity is not off-putting to Indians, which is why it continues and has increased in time.
This could never happen in Australia or England. These places are the refuge for fundamentalists who like cricket played, shown and seen in the orthodox fashion.
Those who wake early to watch the beautiful test match telecast from Australia are inevitably rewarded. The crunch of the ball hitting the pitch is always clear. The ads for cricket memorabilia are always tasteful. There is the restrained commentary, the women in bikinis (unthinkable in Delhi), the glasses of cold beer (unthinkable in Ahmedabad). Relaxed bodies on sloping green knolls.
No danger of such small rewards of civilisation ever reaching our shores, but at least we have Sachin.
How Indians have ruined cricket
