Friday, July 19, 2013
The Great Tamasha by James Astill, review
The British introduced it, of course, and rich Parsee merchants were the first to take it up, soon followed by Hindus and then Muslims. The first Indian genius was Ranjitsinhji, he of the silky leg glide and late cut, but both Ranji and his equally gifted nephew Duleepsinhji played for England and gave nothing beyond their names to Indian cricket. Astill identifies the prototype Indian hero as CK Nayudu, who blasted the MCC's bowlers for 11 sixes around the Bombay Gymkhana ground in 1926. But it took another 45 years for India to come of age internationally, with a famous victory at the Oval in 1971, secured by the wickedly unplayable leg spin and googlies of Bhagwath Chandrasekhar.
The tamasha of Astill's title is a Hindi word meaning entertainment or show. As he tells the story, it was inevitable over time that the Indian public would forsake the extended dramas and longueurs of Test cricket for the shorter, more colourful and energetic forms of the game. This process began with India's wholly unexpected triumph at the 1983 World Cup, and has now reached its ultimate incarnation in Twenty20 and the Indian Premier League.
Politics in democratic India, Astill observes, is "feudal, corrupt and vindictive", and the administration of cricket is no more than an aspect of politics. The country's economic growth since 2000 combined with the national passion for cricket – one study found that 80 per cent of India's under-25s follow the game – to unleash a flood of wealth, and a remarkably unsavoury bunch swooped to get their claws on a share.
Money was everything in the establishment of the IPL, the cricket itself almost incidental. More than $700 million was paid for the first franchises. The Indian captain, Mahendra Singh Dhoni, is reckoned to earn $21 million a year from the game. Foreign mercenaries such as Kevin Pietersen and Shane Warne were bid for like prize bulls at a livestock market. At some matches the players' salaries were flashed up on the scoreboard alongside their batting averages.
Astill seems to have talked to everyone who is anyone involved in this deeply unattractive business – including Lalit Modi, the now-disgraced founder of the IPL, whose capacity for intrigue was exceeded only by his genius for making enemies. Almost equally off-putting is the formidable Sharad Pawar, who combines the job of India's agriculture minister with controlling the Indian Cricket Board and being president of the International Cricket Council.
In comparison with the administrators and the Bollywood stars who grin and posture at the boundary's edge, the players seem considerably more likeable. Astill tracks down the inspirational Warne, former captain of the Rajasthan Royals. Warne speaks up eloquently on behalf of Twenty20, before unwittingly sabotaging his case by admitting that "for me it's always about Test cricket".
The striking thing about most of those in charge of the IPL is their lack of real passion for cricket itself. They are in it to seek exposure, to sell advertising, to exercise power. Almost none of the money percolates down to fund coaching or grass-roots facilities. As for the games themselves, Astill's judgment is that most lack tension and the real edge of competition.
And yet Astill finds that in the streets and on patches of waste ground in the slums and villages of India, the game is furiously alive, uniting millions in the simple desire to hurl a ball fast or spin it with devious intent, and to hit it far. "This is where Indian cricket resides," Astill writes eloquently, "far from the elite, the corrupt politicians and turkey-cocking film stars who have laid claim to it." And therein lies the hope that this most beautiful of games will survive.
The Great Tamasha: Cricket, Corruption and the Turbulent Rise of Modern India
James Astill
Bloomsbury/Wisden, £18.99, 304pp
Source : http://telegraph.feedsportal.com/c/32726/f/568414/s/2ee5d6a2/l/0L0Stelegraph0O0Cculture0Cbooks0Csportbookreviews0C10A190A4130CThe0EGreat0ETamasha0Eby0EJames0EAstill0Ereview0Bhtml/story01.htm