I have loved test match cricket for as long as I can remember. Watching elections is a more recent passion. So these days I enthusiastically follow election processes and results in many countries around the world and watch test matches between any sides. Being neutral in most of these instances is a different pleasure and provides valuable distance and perspective on my devotion to India’s elections and cricket team.
If cricket is an Indian sport accidentally discovered in England, as Ashis Nandy famously said, then the same might be said of elections, a Euro-American activity which post-independence India took to its heart and raised to a peak of spectacle and engagement. Elections and test matches alike display talent and skill over several days, ebb and flow of initiative and momentum, of fresh developments and surprises, civility of conduct and respect for the umpire, and the nail-biting wait on the final day for an uncertain outcome. The combination of genius and indeterminacy makes both cricket and elections one of the joys of the modern world.
It was therefore startling to realise, sometime during the brief third test between India and England, that my two passions had become even more closely and unexpectedly intertwined. This latest match resembled recent elections in India, more than it did any other test match. Take the setting. It was just like any other big event in India that has anything to do with the prime minister. The venue was named after him, and the two ‘ends’ of the stadium had been named after the two business groups seen to be closest to him, thereby immortalising them in all future commentary. The stadium was vast and impeccable in its glamour, the mass of saffron seats providing the perfect backdrop to cricket-whites. It was not the best backdrop for the ‘pink ball’ to be used in this match but hey, who cares, let’s keep an eye on the big picture. Think of future events, other matches to come, the sea of plastic orange would remain.
A view of the Narendra Modi Stadium, Ahmedabad. Photo: PIB via PTI
The grass looked green and lush, just as stage-managed events across India do now. There were flags everywhere, just like in a political rally. Reporters bravely reported about the sorry state of the toilets but again, who cares? To be there, to watch the heroes was a privilege, so what was a bit of inconvenience?
And the match itself? Perfect. Just as elections are in India. All fire and brimstone by those leading from the front, exhorting the crowds, punching the air. Enormous talent, backed by lots and lots and lots of money. So much money that it was invisible to the naked eye. Just like the grass on the pitch that had been cut shorter than the conventional 6 mm. It was a rule all groundsmen followed, but those were groundsmen who worked for a different game, a different India. Here in Motera, what was a few millimetres if it made an already sublime game even more exciting? And especially if it guaranteed a win for some phenomenal spin.
The coin dropped – this is a familiar playbook. Take a game, pump it up with shine and glamour, move a few goalposts discretely, whip up the crowds as if their lives depend on it, and make sure you win. Did those who missed out on the last three days of a five-day match feel cheated? No worries. Lay on many more games for them, all at the same venue. Loss in earnings? What are best friends for?
The main thing was to never change the name of the game, for that is what people are attached to and want to be part of. But rob it of its essence so you can tame it.
Welcome to New India where winning is everything.
