In response to Mr.Kesavan: 'Cricket and Coolness?'

PREFACE: I must admit to the extremely narrow context of this post: it is merely a personal perspective on an issue nicely dealt with by Mukul Kesavan, on Cricinfo Blogs: Maybe you could read his post before you read mine.
Men In White: On the Strange Death of Indian Cricket

While reading the comments in response to this post by Mr.Kesavan, I think quite a few people were misled by the title of the post and proceeded to deride him about representing such a small (and admittedly elitist) sample of the Indian cricket-viewing population. But that's just the point. It was not meant to be a socio-analysis on a large scale at all - the sample under observation was chosen quite deliberately. The way I saw it, the author has noticed something of a decline in that section of the cricketing audience - urban, middle-class, English-speaking children - which may be small but is intrinsically vital to the game in this country. Being part of that elitist minority, I couldn't help reflecting further on this. I grew up in similar yet not-so-similar circumstances to the kids Mukul describes, and I found myself drawing on my associations with cricket (and football) through my school and college life. Again, this post (as was Mukul's) is of fairly narrow context so my ramblings may as well be deemed irrelevant.

First of all, Mr.Kesavan's article does beg the question, "Is the decline of the audience mentioned really of any importance?" I mean, cricket was perceived as an upper-class, exclusionist sport but the tables have turned. The focus has indeed shifted from metropolitan cities to smaller provincial areas, as reflected in the makeup of the national side. Such a shift can only be for the better, in which case if the audience in the cities is at all on the decline it shouldn't matter too much right? I don't think so, and can actually empathize with the author when he says "When our children defect, an unbroken sequence of cricketing generations is severed, a familial cricketing tradition, a silsila, becomes defunct." What the urban middle and upper class brings to Indian cricket is a sense of tradition, sentiment and knowledge of the game. Cricket is the subject of much controversy today and when I say 'controversy', I'm not talking about match-fixing, sledging and the like. People question the relevance of cricket in today's global and consumerist world - as the author puts it "international cricket sometimes seems like a tawdry, post-colonial leftover, too small and tarnished a mirror....". For such a reviled and seemingly characterless sport, cricket has a rich and varied history. Such are the nuances of the game that cricket literature is unrivalled by that of any other sport - it's a genre by itself. Surely all this is something to be celebrated? And this is where the audience in question, with the relative tastefulness it possesses, comes in. But again, is all that sentiment, romance and tradition something the urban Indian sports fan would want to associate himself with? Apparently not, if Mr.Kesavan is to be believed, and it's something that seems to be vindicated when I think back to the way my peers looked at cricket right through school and college. The masses outside the big cities, who form the overwhelming support base of Indian cricket really do capture the pulse of the game. What most of them would not care to develop is a deeper appreciation for the game, test cricket in particular. Most of them don't have the time for it - they have too much to worry about in their day to day lives. Unfortunately the BCCI doesn't seem to give a damn about the sensibilities of such fans, constantly feeding them a diet of non-stop one dayers on flat pitches and the crass commercialisation that goes with it. That may have contributed to cricket being perceived as 'uncool' among rich city boys. That seems to be exactly what Mr.kesavan is worried about - the dwindling of Indian cricket's most 'knowledgeable' fan base. And let's face it, every sport needs its knowledgeable and articulate fans.

I must confess to being exactly like Mukul's son when i was a kid (I'm talking eight or nine years old here), but in a different way. I first started following cricket seriously during the '92 World Cup. By the end of it, I was a New Zealand fan and have been so ever since. At the time, it seemed way cooler to follow a 'successful' team who had an innovative skipper who scored matchwinning fifties at will, a spinner with an Indian name who opened the bowling, and a 22 year old called Chris Harris who could run out my favourite opposition batsman (David Boon) with a direct hit from the boundary. (India, of course, were miserable in that tournament). With that as an example, I can see why high school kids prefer to be associated with Arsenal and Henry rather than the Indian team. But again, eight year olds are much more impressionable than teenagers so I'm not sure if the comparison is wholly valid. I've been casually following football for quite a while now, and still haven't found a team to support (Though I do have a soft corner for Barca and Liverpool). The World Cup means more to me than Club football, anyway. In college, however, i did notice that cricket was being upstaged by football(especially when it came down to the business of supporting one's favourite team), at least in the coolness stakes. Cricket had become the sporting equivalent of Bollywood for the so-called hep crowd - something everyone discusses but no one really wants to admit his fondness for, since it's supposedly passe.

Nouveau football fans will always be a source of puzzlement to cricket purists like me. They're all up to date with the club scene (Read: The EPL) but couldn't care as much when it comes to the World Cup. No one seems to know what a dominant force Liverpool was in the 70s and 80s, or about Geoff Hurst's goal in the '66 final. Even worse, no one's discerning enough to appreciate that the EPL is, apart from the top few teams, a hotbed for mediocre football (as opposed to La Liga for example). The EPL craze is a marketing phenomenon and an extension of the massive ground it's covered in South Asia over the last half-decade. In the school-timeline, I can trace it back to 1998 when all those French World Cup winners moved to English Clubs and ESPN began airing the games primetime. Support for the EPL at the expense of quality football elsewhere has been a by-product. As far as I'm concerned, this is dumbing down and commercialisation at its peak. City slickers of today prefer the junk food of the EPL and 300 plus one-day games as opposed to the fine cuisine of the World Cup, other leagues, and test cricket. Even worse is the trend that some people come across as fair weather fans, whose loyalty is easily subject to change.

In a moment of hubris, I reflect on my unwavering support for the New Zealand (cricket) side over fifteen years now. Not a great side, admittedly, but still I do feel a sense of 'we' as opposed to the Indian team. Yes, i do care about the Indian team - except when they play the kiwis. This may amount to small scale treason, but it's been ingrained over the years. That - loyalty - is ultimately what it's all about. If Mr.Kesavan's son remains an Arsenal fan for the next fifteen years (assuming Arsenal experiences a few big slumps in between), I'll consider him a genuine fan. But back the the larger issue which Mukul was addressing, I'll always swear by cricket and its idiosyncrasies. I hope all those other city kids the author is worried about eventually realise that cricket is the real thing, and get back to the game we love. Irrespective of how the national side performs.