When Sanjay
Manjrekar condescendingly called Ravindra Jadeja a bits-and-pieces player, and
not an all rounder, he not just crossed the line of decency but also opened up
a can of worms. He is a serial offender who creates and thrives on controversy.
This observation was made while on official commentary in a match where the
player in question was not even playing. Michael Vaughn, the ex- England
captain rebuffed him and Sanjay too hit back and followed it by blocking him in
his twitter handle. Clearly there are two matches being played – one among the cricketers and the other among the commentators.
Over the
past decade or so, the down slide in the quality of cricket commentary and even
in the subsequent coverage in newspapers has been a matter of grave concern.
Ever since broadcasters and cricket boards have started the trend of hiring
ex-cricketers the thrill of listening to commentary or reading about it is
diminishing by leaps and bounds. Their communication skills clearly fall short
of the desired standards. Forget using apt phrases for graphically explaining
the situation on ground they even fumble for basic words and spend a great deal
of air time reminiscing about their glorious era interspersed with hollow
laughter and giggles. There is a fine line between those who have played the
game of cricket and those who explain the game of cricket with love and
passion. Unfortunately most of the cricketer- turned-commentators fail
miserably when it comes to generating love and interest for watching the game
of cricket.
They are no
doubt experts of the game but more often than not they see the game through a
prism of their own biases and an outdated thought process. The viewer is constantly
treated to their pearls of wisdom as to where the slip fielder ought to have
been positioned, why the long leg fielder is not positioned finer as in the
good old days, why should the long off fielder be brought up, who should be
bowling next, how should the batting order be changed and so on. In case the
ball goes through the gap which they had predicted or a particular bowler gets
hit for runs about whom they had suggested should be dropped then all hell
breaks loose.
These days even
a false shot by the batsman is immediately met with scorn and contempt by the
ex-cricketer turned commentator. In a sermonizing tone he is admonished not to
play such a shot – with the foot away from the pitch of the ball and the head
in the wrong position as well. In yesteryears and excited voice full of energy
would have said, “ well bowled sir… the ball beat both the intent of the
batsman and the bat itself.”
The more
you listen to such cynical commentary the more you start missing those
professional master craftsmen of words and wit like Nevil Cardus, (lovingly
called the Shakespeare of cricket) Christopher Martin Jenkins, Frank Keating, John
Arlott, Bobby Talyarkhan, Suresh Saraiya,
Pearson Surita, Anant Setalvad, to name just a few. They could come with
descriptive lucid phrases that were born from an innate love for the game.
Their knowledge of cricket was never used as a knife to shred reputations but to
enrich the game itself and they had a sense of humour and wit that could light up
even a dreary test match. Their greatest asset was that they retained an almost
school boyish enthusiasm and love for cricket at par with an ordinary cricket
fan. The crucial difference between these two generations is that while for the
present lot winning is everything for the professional men of words of the past
enjoying the game of cricket was everything. When a batsman of great class and
repute would be out cheaply a Nevil Cardus would be quick to point out
something profound like – “There ought to
be some other means of reckoning quality in this best and loveliest of games;
the scoreboard is an ass for we remember not the scores and the results in
after years; it is the men who remain in our minds, in our imagination.”
With their
unique skill and style which was full of wit, wordplay and scintillating
observations the viewer, the listener or the reader as the case may be always
could transport himself mentally within a touching distance of his favourite
cricketers. Above all one ended up loving the game of cricket and the
cricketers irrespective of who won or who lost, who scored or who didn’t. Not
once have we ever heard a Suresh Saraiya or an Anant Setalvad berating the
batsman for a false shot. In fact it is their magical words that made a
Gavaskar or a Vishwanath, a Salim Durrani or an Eknath Solkar a larger than
life hero. Their failures were more often than not attributed to the fickleness
of lady luck or just the unpredictable nature of the game of cricket itself.
I am firmly
of the opinion that ex-cricketers should be restricted to summing up the match
after the game or during the breaks. They can also contribute immensely during
the pre-match show. But taking over running commentary and ruining it with poor
wordplay and wrongly constructed sentences is actually diminishing our love for
the game itself because invariably it is mixed up with a pinch of cynicism and
an overdose of technicalities.
The
mellifluous rendition of the commentators of yesteryears was as soothing as the
crackle of the fireplace spreading warmth and comfort or a gentle breeze that
soothed our minds and made us love our cricket and our cricketers even more. A
far cry from what these cricketers turned commentators have transformed the
game too – a strategy to win a war and an arena where reputations are made and
tarnished with nationalism creeping in through the back door.
And cricket will
be poorer for that.
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