Fixed!

In the week Rahul Dravid retired, The Sunday Times reminded us all that we are fooling ourselves if we believe cricket to be free of match-fixing.
Worse still, India is at the heart of the fixing.
The most revealing story came from Victor Chandler, one of the biggest bookmakers in the world.
In an interview with The Guardian, he said his company does not take big bets on cricket matches. “We know they know more than us,” he said.
I stopped following cricket when the match-fixing scandal first broke to claim Azharuddin and taint Kapil Dev.
I stand vindicated.

Hyperbole, Stupidity and Facebook

Hyperbole - the use of exaggeration as a rhetorical device or figure of speech.
“Shammi Kapoor is not the Elvis Presley of India, Elvis was the Shammi of America.” – Aamir Khan

Stupidity - a quality, state, act or idea that exhibits properties of being stupid (slow of mind). A congenital lack of capacity for reasoning.
"Nobody is to be blamed (India’s cricket performance in England).” - Krishnamachari Srikkanth

Facebook – outlet for urban India’s impotent rage given its inability to effect change; so to feel like it’s making a difference.
“Anything, everything by, of and about Anna Hazare.” - Svengali

Duck-ing Ganguly

What do you call an Indian playing a bouncer? A duck.
That is an original. Tell it, spread it, make it work.
So, it is with cricket that we are stuck for now.
Not players, but those who are entrusted with enhancing the television experience of watching a live cricket match.
Saurav Ganguly is the antithesis of three of the above – enhance, TV, experience.
As a former player he is supposed to give insight, anecdote, judgement and analysis. He offers none.
His is the classic commentary of platitudes.
He sounds as uptight as he looks on TV.
Lose him.

Off the pitch

It is better not to delve into India’s on-going cricket debacle in England.
Enter the commentators.
Harsha Bhogle is to commentating what an epidural is to a pregnant woman.
For the minimum of pain, you will eventually get maximum relief - which given India’s history in commentating means proper grammar, acceptable syntax and no misplaced ‘the’s’.
In India, often, if you speak English well, it is enough.
Bhogle, at best, is the classic after-dinner speaker.
Gentle on the ears, easy on the stomach.
At worst he is a like a hotel lobby painting – pleasant, but hardly anything worth remembering.

D-uh!

There are some things that are so painfully obvious that surely there is joy to be had from merely stating them. Let us indulge then:
1) This is the first time in 20 years that the Indian cricket team does not have a frontline, make-the-other-team quiver kind of spinner.
2) Freida Pinto is the cosmos’ perfect example of how being ‘at the right time, at the right place’ is all that matters…
3) … that and a good Hollywood agent.
4) Readers always get the press they deserve, not the one they want and never the one they need.

Gag the bastards!

“Nostalgia can drown a person into a well of sentimentality and exaggerate the significance of the past, well beyond its contextual import. Drawing sustenance from Gabriel Garcia Marques' lines that "life is not what one lived, but what one remembers and how one remembers it, in order to recount it..."

The intro to one of India’s top newspaper sports editor’s opening piece on the historic India-England Test series starting today.

I had many reasons to shoot myself this morning, but this pretentious, sophist, word-drivelling crap zoomed to the top.

Who the fuck cares if you read Marques or not!

Like an exquisite cover drive

Nobody can write about cricket more eloquently than the English.
The Sunday Times opened its coverage of the India-England series with, among other things, a piece by Martin Johnson.
I can’t give you the link because it’s a Murdoch title – which means they charge for it online. (They need the money to pay hackers and cops).
Anyway here are two gems:
“Tendulkar running a legbye can produce a crowd reaction not unlike a Beatles concert.”
“And Ganguly was a fine bastman, but never quite came to terms with a game in which you had to do your own running.”

Do not fuck with the BCCI

I’ve always been a bit sad that India did not have a true mafia-style operation.
Sure we had Haji Mastan, the Shakeels, D-Company, C-Rajan and bandits of the Chambal. But, nothing that oozed that ruthless, organised, mafioso efficiency.
Well, now we do.
It’s called the BCCI.
The manner in which it has destroyed Lalit Modi will shrivel the balls of even the toughest cookie out there.
Rather than hire someone to castrate him, they have deconstructed his empire brick by golden brick, million by tarnished million.
Do not fuck with the BCCI.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, we hear you.

What Bhajji said about Murali

I spoke to Harbhajan Singh here in Dubai some years ago about the veracity of Murali’s bowling action. Bhajji, as we know, not one to shy away from a tight slap or a frank comment, said he had no problem with Murali’s action. He felt the secret to Murali’s success was not his action, per se, but the angle at which he bent his wrist. This increased the number of revolutions on the ball and therefore, he got more spin than any other bowler. Add that to his variations and you begin to see the magic that made Murali.

Disgusting!

India plays cricket with Zimbabwe and it speaks of the sickening double standards of our collective national conscience. More people are dying and suffering in Zimbabwe than anywhere else in the world. Yet, the game must go on. And with cricket a game becomes soul-destroying stuff… an opiate on the nation.
India will not take part in the T20 event at the Asian Games because of prior international commitments. Is there anything more important than winning a gold medal at the Asian Games? There is. The Olympics. But don’t hold your breath. That will clash with the great IPL.

Aus-he-he-he

It’s not often English sports fans get to celebrate. Unless it’s cycling. As an ardent supporter of the English football team, I remember before an England-Brazil world cup game plastering the office with posters that had ‘10 reasons why Brazil would lose’. Michael Owen scored and I thought I was the cat’s whiskers. Then, Ronaldinho embarrassed David Seaman and my posters came back to bite me in the ass.
Now that England have won the Ashes, they can actually afford to have a laugh. And if you enjoy bullies being humbled then click here http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/features/2603081/Top-ten-Aussie-Ashes-jokes.html and laugh along

Glorious uncertainty

I used to gag every time Sunil Gavaskar went, “Cricket is a game of glorious uncertainties.” As if to say the rest of life is a game of inglorious certainties. However, after Pakistan’s victory at the 20/20 World Cup, I am going to have to accept – glorious uncertainty it is.
Never has a more ordinary team outperformed two near-perfect teams (South Africa and Sri Lanka) in cricket. Only India’s world cup winning team of 1983 comes close.
This Pakistan team will be thrashed in the Champions Trophy, but 20/20 offers instant redemption. And Pakistan have that for now.

Bas jhala, Tendlya

There is an insufferable exhaustion about watching Sachin Tendulkar bat nowadays. There is no thrill, or zip or anticipation. Every world record he now conquers has that painful inevitability that one sees in geriatric wards; on the face of the grim reaper hanging in the shadows.
I hope he is done and retires now, because I’m pretty much done watching him plod along from record to record. Make no mistake, for a long time I only watched a game when he was batting. And that’s only how I’d like to remember him.
Bas jhala, Tendlya. Chala, ghari basa atta.