AFTER more than 20 years, I finally went to the stadium to watch a one-day international, between India and Australia. I will never do so again.
In 1989, I watched Pakistan defeat India at Sharjah in a one-day tie; apart from the headache of sitting at ground-level and swallowing copious amounts of dust, the cricket was watchable. There were no distractions in the area I sat.
But the entire thing has now degenerated into farce. Louts of both sexes who seem intent on cramming themselves full of lager constitute a sizeable part of the crowd. There were Indians in large numbers, all equally loutish, and outdoing even the Nazis in jingoism.
Nobody had come to watch the cricket. They were intent on seeing the team they supported win. And they did not mind behaving like the lowest of the low if they felt so. When the occasion presented itself, they crowded to the fence to shove their ugly mugs into the TV cameras.
I wasn’t sitting in the cheap seats either. These were reserved seats that cost $50 apiece. About the only place from which one can watch the game and enjoy it seems to be one of the boxes that have been sold to some corporate or the other.
If the crowd is not making noise, then Cricket Australia organises plenty of noise to fill the hiatus. The good folk there appear to think that there should not be a single moment when the crowd is not being entertained. That is, if you can call what goes on as entertainment. It is better described as rabble-rousing.
A sizeable portion of the crowd was interested in stuffing their faces with beer, at the atrocious rate of $6 for a glass that could not hold more than 250 cc. For good measure, they mixed the half-strength amber liquid with potato chips at the equally atrocious cost of $5 for a small tub.
And it wasn’t the men alone; the females were involved in these cerebral activities with much more fervour than the males.
The organisers think that making the game some kind of a silly spectacle will help it to endure. They are deluding themselves – once the primary purpose of the event is overlooked, much of the attraction fades. And why would people come to the stadium to see the hoi polloi get sloshed and behave like louts when they can watch the game in the comfort of their own living rooms?
Cricket is being slowly killed by those who run the game. There is too much of it, most being uncompetitive games between teams comprising players who have poor skills. Blaring cheap music to a drunken crowd will not make it any more attractive. Yet the diehard enthusiast has been coming to the game.
But that will not continue if this madness goes on.