The Indian summers have never been the same again. Until 2008, Indian cricketers, both rookies and veterans, looked forward to the summer break. They could rest, refresh and retrospect. Then came the summer of ’08 that blew the winds of change ushering a summer of razzmatazz. The Indian Premier League was sewn into the world of international cricket. They couldn’t rest, refresh or retrospect. But they still look forward to summers, though for vastly different reasons.
Into its seventh installment, this summer-caravan is symbolic of India’s financial and hence decision-making clout in world cricket. The rules had changed. The rules were changed. The rest of the world was made to acknowledge that India was where the money was. The BCCI’s coffers were full. The cricket world revolved on BCCI’s whims. Why not? Where else on the planet do international sportspersons, cine stars, A-list glitterati, business barons, political powerhouses and spiritual leaders such as the Dalai Lama have to fight for cameo roles in the cast?
As a gathering of the cream of cricket, this ‘international’ domestic league redefined player-power in terms of cash and career options, seduced new spectators to the game, helped break boundaries between rivals across national teams and presented path-breaking ground for globalisation of the game through the franchise system. It’s an unabashedly commercial spectacle. But who cares?
The cricketers, old and young, retired and semi-retired, fully embraced the league, for it housed them all. So the reasonably articulate ones grabbed the microphone, the academics wore the less glamorous coaching garbs. Varying on their stature—international, domestic, fringe, emerging—the players got corresponding roles. And money. Incredible money. There also emerged a class disparity between the IPL-tagged and the rest.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely. So does money. The gravy train that is the IPL had both and along with them accompanied their attendant pitfalls—filth, sleaze and scandals. Soon IPL irked the moralists— flashy cars, fat wallets, wild after-match parties, the skimpy-clad Eastern European cheerleaders, spliff and spills, its very architect embroiled in a vortex of allegations, which eventually resulted in their expulsion. Avenues opened up—for instant celebrity-hood as well as self destroying. Team India’s fortunes too dipped, and the IPL was squarely blamed. Fair enough to an extend, as the players were left drained, postponed surgeries and skipped major tournaments to tend to their aching joints and creaking bones. But the summer-caravan never budged.
“It’s not that IPL is the cause of evils in cricket. Eventually, it’s up to the players to make a call. If someone wants to self-destruct, he will at any cost. Likewise, if someone wants to excel, he can. Nothing is preventing them. Virat Kohli is a fine example. So is Ajinkya Rahane. There is both good and bad, and a professional is free to choose what he wants. There is no point blaming the establishment,” observed former player Pravin Amre.
It’s easier said than done though, for the temptations are sometimes too hard to resist in the glitzy globule that is the IPL.
Hence, for every Rahane or Kohli, there is an S Sreesanth or Ankit Chavan. And such tales of talent gone astray would repeat. Then thundered the hammer of reality. The summer of ’13 blew harsh winds, shaking its very rudiments. The worst spot-fixing scandal erupted. The clamour for scrapping the IPL—by now the epitome of all that is rotten with the sport—reached a deafening crescendo.
But it died as it came. Nearly a year since 16/05, the IPL has re-affirmed its indefatigable spirit. Barely a week after three Rajasthan Royals were detained, the stadiums burst at the seams for the knockout matches.
Hence, it is unlikely that the recent onrush of scandals will affect the World Cup. “A World Cup is a World Cup. This is the pinnacle of cricketing glory. Even people who don’t watch the IPL would watch the World Cup,” Amre opined. After all, in an increasingly consumerist society, public memory is too fleeting. And the T20 World Cup would fire the public imagination, if not in the stadium on the screens beside your couch.