This past weekend, we are supposed to know, was a trailblazing weekend. A groundbreaking landing, so to speak. Cricket–anonymous, quaint, complicated old sport that it’s supposed to be–made its first international appearance on American soil, at Lauderhill, Florida. Hip, hip, hurrah. Uncork the bottles and swig it down with them Yanks; (more importantly) swing open the coffers and wait for the cash to flow in. I’m not quite sure, though, about this mindset.
The two matches, a drawn series between New Zealand and Sri Lanka, featured a sluggish pitch with little room either for exciting strokeplay or exciting bowling, and is generally agreed to have featured more in the stands (look! real live Americans!) than on the field. Critics will call for the ground to be dug up and replaced with either a Newlands-esque homestead or an MCG-style concrete jungle; optimists will want to give it time. But the enterprise, and its nature, seems very dubious.
For one thing, cricket and the ICC have an almost surreal obsession with America. Not to knock the Yanks, but it might be worthwhile to satisfy the existing fanbase, hardly enchanted at the current state of the game, before trying to carve out new territory. Of course, it’s the moolah, and the high-profile of American soil, that beckons. How much do basketball and football players earn for a night’s game? Enough to make an IPL millionaire weep. How many movies have been made on baseball? Certainly, the ICC thinks, more than enough to boost the profile of a wider-spread but less acclaimed game.
Making money, of course, is no crime, but when it’s done at the expense of everything, it’s as destructive as the “purist” traditionalism that is supposed to have held back the game for decades. Just ask the lawyers of Allan Stanford and Lalit Modi. (On second thought, it’s a waste of time.)
The other disturbing factor is that popular opinion in the cricket world seems to have equated not only a good game with a quick-scoring one (many of the driest Test match sessions have seen batsmen pillaging runs at four to the over, while many of the tensest cliff-hangers, if pure run-rate statistics were to be believed, been snorefests). It also seems to equate Americans with fast-lane, intellectually deprived, ADD patients who can’t appreciate the thrills and depths of a game without seeing every second ball dumped into the stands. Hence the fact that it was Twenty20–intrinsically very close to baseball, and nobody dumps their jam with sugar–that has been used to breach the American gates, when an ODI may easily have sufficed with more sub-plots and as much entertainment in a day’s play. Americans are not (all) stupid–and nobody likes things dumbed down for them.
The cricket world’s relationship with America, indeed, is like an infatuated teenager’s sleazy attempts to chat up a rich, beautiful but aloof young woman who is less dim than he thinks.
“Hey there, sunshine.”
“Are you talking to me?”
“You want to do something tonight, babe? It doesn’t have to be long–just 40 minutes, er, overs.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. What d’ you have in mind?”
“Well, I’m thinking a couple of sessions–coloured clothing, of course, if you like–on a nice shirtfront, a real featherbed, not too much movement or carry, and lots and lots of maximums.”
“Maximums?”
“Oh don’t worry, it’s simple, you’ll understand it, we can even cut down the boundary size and the number of overs if you like.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Don’t worry, it’s easy. You’ll understand it. And fun. Really fun. We can even make it into a movie. You know?”
“Er, let me see. Is there anything else?”
“Er, yes. It’s loads of fun, don’t worry, and it’s short too, just for you. There’s sweepers in the deep, and we can call top edges fly balls, and replace the point with a shortstop just to make you comfortable. You’re not confused, are you?”
“Er, I don’t think so, but–”
“Ooh, and I’ve got a short third man for the cute reverse sweep, a guy out at the cow corner, and a nice fine leg as well.”
“Pardon?”
“Well, it’s more of a long leg, really, but I could make it finer if you like.”
“Well–”
“Ooh don’t worry, there’s lots to do, lots of music and drinks and everybody having a great time because it’s so short and you’ll understand it. What do you say?”
“Let me get this straight. Are you asking me out to the Red Sox game?”
