As the Sri Lankans comprehensively bowled out the Indian cricket team, the celebrations began. To have even wished a victory to such a team as the BCCI had put together would have been calumniating, and the exit, for all advertorial purposes, demanded sipping the ceremonial tea. But condolences were also in order. Not as much for the team since it would be unwise to think that cricketers with such formidable individual talent at their terminal stage would not have known any better. But thoughts went out for the media. Widowed so soon. Even before some of the worthies had made it to the Caribbean.
These are some remembrances of weeks past. The bright-eyed, pony-tailed anchors mouthing trite comments are now all a blur but the farewell ceremony at Mumbai remains. Stuck at the Delhi airport one became a captive audience to CNN-IBN, which was telecasting a farewell programme for the cricketers in Mumbai. This was the same day that the results of state elections in Punjab, Uttarakhand, and Manipur were coming in. A premier news channel, one is told on some authority, that the channel is, it chose to show a dog and pony show featuring singers crooning, actors giving wishes, and team-members lapping it up. Then there was Mr Rajdeep Sardesai sitting with a bunch of cricketers from the 1983 Prudential Cup winning team and excitedly trying to get the cricketers to share with the audience tales of that famous victory. Being the son of former cricketer Mr Dileep Sardesai, one explained away his childlike excitement about the game and even indulged him for forgetting that he was all miked and had no reason to shout. Then there was the usual case of dusting the covers off former cricketers and bringing them in as guests. Mr Siddhu, it seemed, was spending all his waking hours in the NDTV studio and poor Mr Amarnath was trying to ensure that he spoke cricket despite the interruptions from anchors. It might be ascribed to dotage but one could make little sense of what the anchors were doing, but they all seemed like cheerleaders. One wishes that they had some kind of pom-poms, and they could have jumped, somersaulted, and swirled. With tiny and tight dresses, at least that would have left some impress and led to the much-desired surge in ratings.
Somewhere in-between all of this one got to see cricketers morph into tigers, a six-grained biscuit whose name does not register though Mr Tendulkar does, and so many ads that featured cricketers that the brands leave no recognition. The manner in which the advertisers took to this charade made one wonder whether they adequately understand consumers or cricket. But that is not the task of this column, so let us leave them alone. Though one has no pity if they lost money. Far from it there is a certain schadenfreude.
The newspapers could not let the opportunity pass. They decided that all the pages in the newspaper ought to be filled with cricket. Damn that firing in Nandigram and the killing in Chattisgarh that came between these happy times and some demands for rights. At least in one newspaper one saw that the president and prime minister, and those down the totem pole had all signed in good-wishes to the team. The design ensured a pride of place to these signatures. One hopes they brought as much enthusiasm to completing their tasks on time, like building a road, or digging a well or putting a pipeline in place. For the sake of whatever the demiurge or god or ideology you hold dear, what about remembering that cricket is a game. It is not national interest and survival.
If there is an abiding principle that ought to be a journalistic touchstone, it is moderation. If at all one can err, it can be towards less, never towards a surfeit or excess. But to see, read, or experience the treatment of a game, which in many ways can be said to exemplify a certain stoical notion of the mean, in the media was to see not just any copybook example of excess. It was to experience mindless excess; excess of enthusiasm, jingoism, and certitude. Thanks boys for the surcease.
