Caution is prudent when expressing any view critical of the Indian Premier League — it’s not always obvious who might be reading or listening, or how much influence they may yield. Young, ambitious players need to be especially careful.
In the earliest years of the tournament, when the after-parties were as important as the matches, you could get away with a lot more than today’s diplomatic stars. But when Dale Steyn accidentally described the tournament as “a very well-paid holiday” he was quickly forced into a grovelling apology and retraction. Explanation, at least.
As the cricket soon became more serious and the celebrity culture subsided, players felt the need more than ever to watch their words and not say anything which might upset team owners, the IPL organising committee or their bosses at the BCCI (Board of Control for Cricket in India).
The obsequious praise can be heard most obviously in the commentary box where lists of what can’t be said are updated from time to time. The men and women behind the mics are so used to the rhythm of relentless, unqualified praise they do it without thinking.
The excellent, former Trinidadian fast bowler, Ian Bishop, described Virat Kohli’s 39-ball 50 on his way to equalling the slowest IPL century as “magnificent”. To his great credit, and with some courage, he admitted to a “poor choice of words” in the hours after the game and vowed “to do better in future”. Others are perfectly happy to continue showering everybody with random, indiscriminate praise. It pays the bills, and rather nicely.
This may not be a popular opinion among IPL watchers, especially those who are still excited by watching batsmen hit sixes (of which there have been more than before at this stage of the tournament), but the IPL has also been duller this year.
There is a good reason there are 11 players in a cricket team. It works. The composition has been tinkered with many times in the past. When the game was establishing itself in the 19th century there all sorts of teams selected, including uneven matches with “12 men of Kent versus 13 men of Sussex”.
But over time it became clear that 11 was just right. Not quite enough fielders, perhaps, but any more tended to dry the runs up and, as exciting as low-scoring games can be, nobody likes them all the time. Given a “standard” sized cricket field and reasonable spread of batting and bowling skills, 11 against 11 worked better than any other number.
This basic history lesson was partly remembered when the IPL’s organisers decided to make it 12 against 12 with the introduction of the “impact player”. It remains only 11 on the field, but the ability to remove a bowler from the XI and introduce an extra batsman has radically affected the contest.
It was a golden, nostalgic story watching best friends Heinrich Klaasen and Aiden Markram steer Sunrisers Hyderabad to a record score of 277/3, but the best part was that they shared a small apartment as 20-year-olds and both considered quitting the game or even attempting to qualify for Ireland or the Netherlands when they couldn’t earn a franchise contract in SA. Their journey together from professional sportsmen on R6,000 a month to millionaires is quite the inspiration.
Watching Klaasen hit sixes is like watching a martial arts expert chop bricks in half with a bare hand. It’s impressive, and we couldn’t do it, but how long can the excitement last? And what chance does the brick have? The pitches are becoming even flatter in India and, unlike golf courses, the boundaries can’t be extended.
Apart from the Klaasen inspired 277, there have been scores of 272, 246 and 234 — and four more in excess of 200. On Sunday, Anrich Nortjé had reason to be pleased with figures of 3-0-33-0 as he started the last over for Delhi against Mumbai on a belter of a pitch.
No doubt the Proteas paceman has reflected by now on what he might have done differently, but when Romario Shepherd (4,6,6,6,4,6) plundered 32 runs from those six balls it was obvious that something was wrong. The pitch might as well have been artificial, so predictable was the bounce and lack of any sideways movement. Given that most teams can now, effectively, play eight specialist batsmen, there is no need to hold back in the event of a couple of early wickets.
Among the many dangers of a lopsided tournament is that many bowlers will simply adopt the commentators’ approach. Turn up, smile, do your job, don’t complain — and take the cheque.
Indian fans with personal, vested attachments to their teams won’t have any problems with that and the tournament will continue to prosper on the back of the astronomical viewing figures the home country provides for advertisers and sponsors.
But a predictable, formulaic and one-dimensional competition might not be so good for the IPL’s goal of global domination.
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