Pride and Avarice

How the glory of wearing the India cap is being eclipsed by the greed for big bucks in slam bang leagues.

Pride is both a vice and a virtue. While pride in wearing the tricolour and playing for India is a virtue and brings out the best in players like Sachin Tendulkar or Harbhajan Singh, false pride in being one among the select few who earn millions by playing in the cash-rich Indian Premier league (IPL) or the Champions League T20 (CLT20) is a vice, which is eating into the very foundations of our cricket.

Since the advent of the IPL and more recently the CLT20, the fundamental difference between Australian and Indian cricket is this growing absence of pride in doing things for the nation. While the baggy green has reverential status in Australia, it represents the best Australia can offer, Indian youngsters find this concept totally alien, wasteful traditional romanticism associated with the cricket of a bygone era. New-age Indian cricket is the fertile playground to earn a fast buck, and more the logos of MNCs on the caps of the new-age Indian youngster, the merrier it is.

Most of India’s iconic cricketers have complained of excessive cricket of late. There’s a real concern that with the team playing non-stop cricket for months on end, there’s a real chance of burning out. While Australian stars like Ricky Ponting, Michael Clarke or Mitchell Johnson have pulled out of the IPL citing similar considerations, Indians, despite complaining about the near inhuman schedule, haven’t shown an urge to withdraw from the IPL. Ishant Sharma, for example, would do well to stay away from the rigour of playing T20 games every third day in the heat of March-April 2010 to remain fresh for the T20 world cup in the Caribbean in May. Whether or not the franchise owners would allow such a travesty to happen is a different matter altogether. Spending through the roof for these gladiators to entertain crowds on their behalf when they dance in the aisles with cheerleaders in tow, these entrepreneurs, driven by the needs of the market, can’t allow these icons to rest. Whether or not they are fresh to represent India isn’t a consideration after having spent hundreds of crores of rupees in buying the franchise.

In this mad jamboree of making a fast buck, what the new age cricketer fails to take note of is the linear process of becoming an icon. Unless you play for India, you will never become an icon. Not a single star IPL player is a lesser player who has made a name by just playing in the cash-rich league. Also, the Indian team, after two years of IPL, doesn’t have a single player who has come up the ranks with performances of note in the IPL. Yusuf Pathan and Ravindra Jadeja, the two players who shone in the inaugural edition of the tournament, are yet to cement their places in the national side. In fact, Jadeja’s comeback can be attributed to his consistent performances at the Challenger Trophy rather than any flashy performance of little consequence in the CLT20. The moot point is unless one shines for India, which involves hours of toil, hard work and ultimately pride in wearing the tricolour, one will soon disappear from the radar of franchise owners or survive merely as the side cast.

Is this piece intended as a jibe at the IPL? Certainly not. Rather, it is meant as a corrective. It aims to point out yet again that pride in playing for the country leads to money and not the other way round. Fast bucks disappear faster than they are earned. Unlike in football, where the club versus country debate is of real consequence with the pool being distinctly larger, in cricket, with few teams of consequence, it is only country versus country cricket that matters. Unless you have scored the winning runs in a crucial encounter against Australia or have picked the match-changing wickets in a crunch game against Pakistan, you will not be remembered in the annals of India’s cricket history.

Finally, what makes cricket what it is, is the romance associated with the sport. A hands-aloft Sachin Tendulkar after scoring the winning runs against England last December at Chepauk and then dedicating the match winning century to the victims of the 26/11 terror attacks in Mumbai is the ultimate picture postcard of Indian cricket. No IPL performance ever can evoke such passion, intensity or joy. However much Tendulkar tries to promote the Mumbai Indians, his simple words, ‘I am Sachin Tendulkar and I play for India’ will forever ring true in the hearts of the billion-plus Indian cricket fans. He will be remembered as India’s most loved cricketer, one who was our only answer to the Australians for over a decade. It is this sense of pride we have felt each time he has walked out to bat that makes him a legend. For some, India still matters.

Boria Majumdar is a sports historian and cricket commentator

About The Author

Boria Majumdar

Boria Majumdar is a sport journalist and the author of, among other titles, Eleven Gods and a Billion Indians. He is a contributor to Open

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