Corridors Of Uncertainty: World Cup 2007 & Beyond

By Boria Majumdar

The 2007 World Cup changed the terms of the debate around cricket. For India, the tournament turned out to be a national tragedy; for the first time in years there was a palpable weakening of the foundations of the country's universal obsession. For the hosts, West Indies, it almost put an end to the dream of creating a unified political, social and economic entity. For Australia, the world cup triumph was accompanied by a sense of deja vu which was evident in the muted celebrations.In the final analysis, for reasons of money, the ninth edition of the cup was bloated to accommodate sixteen teams for over a month and a half. Yet the tournament had no distinctive quality and no particular innovation, its format was dull and its title rendered meaningless in the process. What it did generate was heated discussions about the market, about the nature of profits, and about sportsmanship or the increasing lack of it.In this book, cricket historian Boria Majumdar analyses the many events and aspects of the World Cup, from the shocking death of Bob Woolmer to the dwindling television revenues in India. He examines the controversial legacy of the tournament and the importance of cricket, if any, in the shaping of contemporary societies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Nov 15, 2007
• ISBN: 9789351360490

Boria Majumdar

Boria Majumdar, a Rhodes scholar, is recognized as one of India’s most influential commentators. Having covered international sport between 2000 and 2017, he is currently Consulting Editor, Sport, India Today Group and Senior Research Fellow, University of Central Lancashire. He was formerly Sports Expert at Times Now and Visiting Professor at the Universities of Chicago and Toronto. Majumdar has written more than 1,000 columns on sports over the last fifteen years, and has authored or co-authored multiple books, among them Olympics: The India Story (with Nalin Mehta) and Playing It My Way—Sachin Tendulkar’s autobiography.

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Prologue

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Cricket at the Crossroads:

CWC 2007 as Watershed

It took more than three decades for the Cricket World Cup to reach the West Indies after it had travelled to most parts of the world. The World Cup in the Caribbean was expected to be the most exotic ever. Every time the word Caribbean is uttered, the mind races to a pristine land of the seas, blue like none else, party and fun-loving people, luxury cruises and yachts, the setting of James Bond films and of course cricket. Nowhere else has cricket been played with the same passion and verve as in the Caribbean, and nowhere else has cricket been as politically charged and as politically pertinent as in the Caribbean. L O’Brien Thompson says, ‘The West Indian cricket scene, linking players and players, players and spectators, and spectators and spectators, is laden with humour, pathos, irony, tragedy and excitement. Cricket is the central focus of dialogue under streetlights, on the beaches, in the barber and rum shops, at parties and in drawing rooms.Cricket, simply put, continues to be the unsurpassed lens to understanding West Indian societies even at a time of relative decline in the standard of the West Indian team.’

When Frank Worrell assumed captaincy of the West Indian team in the late 1950s, it was symbolic of black liberation from white yoke. Cricket was both the means and the end. While winning at cricket could give the motley collection of islands a place in the world, playing cricket well was a course of deliverance for the islands’ oppressed. As Everton Weekes, one of the greatest West Indian cricketers of all time, mentioned at his Barbados home, ‘I was an underprivileged child. Cricket gave me all I could have asked for. It made me feel human.’

It is in this spirit that the nine West Indian islands braced themselves to host the ninth World Cup, cricket’s greatest stage, to crown its champion. While the facilities on offer in the West Indies hardly compared to those in Australia or even in India, the spirit of cricket in the Caribbean, coupled with the context created by cricket’s biggest stage, it was hoped, would make the experience incomparable.

And the World Cup, however much the purists may espouse the cause of Test cricket, is certainly modern cricket’s single biggest spectacle. During the World Cup, which comes after a long gap of four years, cricket fans from across the world sit down to watch the best of the sport in action. With all the top sides locked in combat until one is left standing, it crowns cricket’s champion team for the next four years with all others engaged in the interim preparing to make a dig at the greatest prize when the clock turns the cycle. The battles fought en route, as Wisden once wrote, ‘enter the stuff of legend, and for four years, the team that holds the World Cup does not have to dig too deep to search for pride or motivation.’

I mention this at the very outset because I do not want this book to be catalogued simply as a stroke-by-stroke and ball-by-ball study of cricket’s greatest spectacle. It is concerned with much more—with the hegemony of commerce over modern cricket, with the ever growing hiatus between the minnows and the traditional powerhouses, with the renewed meaning of cricket in countries with embattled and complex political contexts, and with the rejection of the age old myth that cricket and politics do not mix. Politics and sport, as Simon Barnes had said, have been blood brothers since the first national anthem was played at a sporting event.

In the middle of the nineteenth century, cricket in various parts of the British empire had a singular purpose—the inculcation of imperial manliness. This had changed by the turn of the century. In more places than one and in more forms than one, cricket was used for purposes of resistance, rather as a symbol of revolt against colonial rule, an aspect largely ignored by imperialists and analysts alike. Until the beginning of the 1990s, Kerry Packer notwithstanding, cricket had successfully aspired, less and less confidently, to be the gentlemen’s game. The virtues of fair play associated with cricket were not considered vestiges of a distant past. Now they are. That commerce is king, many argue, may be traced back to Kerry Packer.

If the financial imperatives and political dangers associated with the Australian monopoly and the Woolmer tragedy were nails in the coffin during CWC (Cricket World Cup) 2007, the most potent nail was the unexpected ouster of India and Pakistan, the impact of which has still not been gauged satisfactorily. To put it simply, India’s ouster was about who suffered the most and who bled the least: the ICC (International Cricket Council), the WICB (West Indies Cricket Board), CWC 2007 Inc., the advertisers and sponsors, television companies or the far removed West Indian who might well have to bear the price of investment during the cup. Also, the World Cup was meant to be far more than just an international platform to display Caribbean unity. It was hoped to herald changes at the grassroot level of Caribbean societies, for unity to be felt finally on a day-to-day basis. That it wasn’t achieved remains the tournament’s cardinal legacy.

Given modern cricket’s political, economic and social potential, it is hardly surprising that it plays a key role in contemporary societies. As a result, governments, cricket’s governing bodies and players, sponsors and fans, all try tenaciously to exert control over the game. The whole tale of their endeavours cannot be told in a single volume, and the purpose of this book is to capture some of the more fascinating aspects of the interplay between cricketing cultures and contemporary societies brought to light during CWC 2007. In trying to analyze the role played by cricket in some of the countries that patronize the sport, the book drives home two fundamental truths. Firstly, cricket has made a decisive step towards commercialism. Gentlemen are passé; celebrities are promoted. Garish ‘glitz’ rather than muted white is in fashion—literally and metaphorically. Secondly, cricket is enmeshed in politics—within the game, within regions and across the globe. Cricket is now too important politically to be left to cricketers.

The 2007 World Cup, this book tries to envisage, has been cricket’s watershed. It is a watershed that will fundamentally redefine the contours that govern cricket’s global economy. Cricket, post CWC 2007, is at a crossroad. Its base is looking shaky. Test cricket is anachronistic. In every country, except may be in Australia and England, Test match attendances are dwindling. Even in India where cricket is a national passion, Test matches are no longer popular. It is failing to justify its existence making it a real problem for cricket in times to come. This explains the increased urge to organize one-day and 20-20 matches, which are an assured economic success. Test cricket is like a cultural relic while one-day and 20-20 cricket are a profitable economic proposition in this age and time. Unfortunately, even one-day cricket might soon cease to be economically viable, a foremost problem confronting cricket administrators worldwide. The drop in television ratings for World Cup matches was a pointer. With teams like Bermuda, Canada, Scotland and Holland making up the numbers in the tournament, for most matches people knew the outcome even before the contests began. With the giant killing acts of Bangladesh and Ireland proving to be bad days for the traditional powerhouses more than anything else, it can be suggested that in trying to create a product for television, the game was sacrificed, something the ICC will need to address before CWC 2011.

Another alarming prospect that needs to be addressed right away is the growth of hyper-nationalistic sensibilities centring the game. David Underdown in his much-praised Start of Play: Cricket and Culture in Eighteenth Century England suggests, ‘If there is one thing we ought to have learned from the whole sorry history of the twentieth century, it must surely be the pernicious consequences of excessive nationalism. Of course it is good that people should retain honest patriotic feelings, based on a sense of what is best in their country’s culture and traditions. But nationalism is not the be-all and end-all of our lives.’

The reaction in India and Pakistan following their respective defeats in CWC 2007 poses the question whether in modern international cricket these appeals fall on deaf ears? Unfortunately, there’s no definitive answer.

In the ultimate analysis, for monetary reasons, the ninth edition of the cup was bloated to accommodate sixteen teams for over a month and a half. Yet the tournament had no distinctive quality and no particular innovation, its format was dull and its title rendered meaningless in the process. The outcome of such a meaningless exercise is that it breeds contempt among players. This explains the increased murmur worldwide for less and less matches. In the late 1990s, as Gideon Haigh argues, meaningless matches led to ‘match-fixing, where meaningless cricket so abounded that it seemed a trifling matter to manipulate scores and results.’ CWC 2007 has sounded the alarm. And a surfeit of 20-20 matches already planned worldwide, including the launch of official and unofficial leagues, has raised the alarm to orange if not red. It is now upon the administrators to take notice. Yet, as was evident on the day of Lara’s farewell, cricket continues to be a sport that pleases men and women across nationalities and economic backgrounds. A full stadium singing all day long for one icon, one with a deeply flawed legacy at that, was a treat for the cricket aficionado. All these elements make cricketing cultures during and after CWC 2007 worthy of attention. This book is an attempt in that direction.

Legacies

A Legacy Deeply Mired in

Contradiction: The World Cup in

Retrospect

In the end, I had a choice between selling the Finals tickets for 50% less or holding onto them as souvenirs. I preferred the latter. That is all I have to show for my huge investment in the World Cup. I plan to frame them and keep them as the oneWorld Cup that I was happy to miss.

—Venu Palaparthi, avid cricket fan and Director of Dreamcricket Pavilionshop based in New Jersey

For a tournament that lurched on the edge of disaster before it began and almost toppled over before it got past the first week, World Cup 2003 is a roaring success. Never mind, England’s ridiculous prevarication over Zimbabwe (with what started as a moral issue ending, bizarrely, as a security one); New Zealand’s less publicized, but equally unwarranted, decision to skip Kenya; the tragic end to Jonty Rhodes’s career; Allan Donald’s no show; and Shane Warne’s deadly folly (or sin, was it), the cricket has been resplendent.

—Editorial, Wisden Asia Cricket, March (2003)

The contrasting viewpoints expressed above sum it up beautifully. If CWC 2003 was the best, CWC 2007 might easily rank among the worst. Soon after the World Cup had concluded amidst considerable chaos and confusion, I travelled to Canada, to the University of Toronto, for a one-day conference on the theme A Sport in Crisis: The Future of Cricket After World Cup 2007. The subject matter said it all. It was indication enough that the legacy of the cup was ‘depressing’ and the conference, initially planned to discuss the impact of the event, was transformed into a forum to discuss possible remedies for cricket and the Caribbean post CWC 2007. In fact, to set facts in order, the conference had been conceived a year ago to discuss the impact of CWC 2007 on the Caribbean and the rest of the world. And the principal organizer, Prof. Bruce Kidd, noted social scientist and Dean at the University of Toronto, called me at the end of March to suggest that the happenings in India after the defeat against Sri Lanka and Bob Woolmer’s death were signals of alarm for world cricket, issues worth discussing at the symposium. When we spoke once again from the Caribbean around the middle of April, we decided to add the question of the impact of the World Cup on the economies of the Caribbean islands, knowing full well that such stocktaking would be critical. Hence, the insistence to ensure that one of the speakers on the occasion was Derek Jones, Senior Legal Counsel for CWC 2007. Jones had been involved in the planning and implementation of the Sunset legislation and in the conduct of the tournament from very close quarters.

Soon after had Jones finished with his keynote address at the convention, an erudite rendition about how difficult it was to run a tournament of this nature in the Caribbean with multiple sovereign states involved, he was barraged with questions like ‘What will happen to the newly constructed stadiums in future?’, ‘Will the money spent turn out prudent investments in the end?’, ‘How will the investment impact the ordinary tax payer in the islands?’ and ‘Will the Owen Arthur and Portia Simpson Miller governments in Barbados and Jamaica respectively survive the negative impact of the World Cup in the forthcoming elections?’

Jones, who has his way with words, to his credit, did not drop his guard. His answers to most of the questions were anecdotal, which hardly gave away the real picture. To be fair to him, as an insider it must have been awfully difficult for him to blurt out the real truth—that the World Cup might indeed leave behind a negative legacy in the long term. He did smilingly say, however, that CWC 2007 Inc., the company formed to run the World Cup, would be closed down by the end of June 2007 and thereafter ‘these white elephants (the stadiums) will be the responsibilities of the individual governments of the islands.’ It was incredulous to note that the Vivian Richards Stadium in Antigua, constructed at a cost of approximately USD 60 million and which has a capacity of 20,000, is meant to cater to a population of 75,000 Antiguans. A tournament that stood on the margins of disaster before it commenced and ultimately plummeted into complete chaos in the final minutes of the final match, may well end up transforming the Caribbean for all times to come. Only the transformation is expected to severely impact the well being of the already poor Caribbean, the cup’s lasting legacy.

From an organizational perspective, the tumultuous buildup, it appears in hindsight, was not so bad after all. It is pertinent perhaps to go back briefly to my experiences in the West Indies in February, when the final touches to the preparations were underway. As my flight was about to touch down at the Grantley Adams International Airport in Barbados on 15 February 2007, I was trying to absorb every possible glimpse available of the beautiful island from my window seat to see if the Barbados I was coming back to was different. This was because the Barbados I had been to in 2005 and 2006 was a thoroughly enjoyable tourist destination, but was certainly not a nation ready to host the Cricket World Cup final, counted as one of the top ten sporting events of the world. Soon after the flight had taxied and reached the parking stand, an announcement was made asking me to meet the ground staff on disembarking. I was thrilled. Friends from Barbados Tourism had come to the airport and I would have no problem in getting my television equipment cleared through customs. Barbados had changed indeed.

However, that ecstasy could change to despair in a matter of seconds was brilliantly borne out to me on disembarkation. The announcement was made because our equipment had been left behind at the Gatwick Airport in London and would only make it to Barbados in the evening of the following day. On reaching the arrival hall and having cleared immigration without much fuss, we were a little taken aback in finding out that there were no trolleys for arriving passengers. There were a handful of porters, but with passengers coming in by the hundreds, if not thousands, for the formal opening of the Kensington Oval stadium, the venue for the World Cup final, they were soon lost in the crowd. To their credit, none of these teething problems, except luggage issues, confronted visitors to Barbados during the cup.

During the final phase of the build-up, from the end of February to the middle of March, news of underpreparedness was coming from all over the Caribbean. When asked what he felt about the dismal traffic situation in Barbados, David Allan, former West Indian cricketer, came up with the most interesting of answers. ‘I know the traffic is horrible and it might take you hours to travel to the stadium, a nightmare for international tourists. So what have I done? I have bought a new speedboat. That way it will not take me more than fifteen minutes to travel!’

While Allan was intent on travelling to the stadium in his newly bought boat to avoid the nightmarish traffic, the cricket world had braced itself for chaos. Everybody knew it would be rough. Since nine sovereign states were involved, countries that normally do not care much about each other, teething problems were only natural. The Australian on 1 March 2007 rounded off the alarm rather nicely, ‘A disastrous World Cup, blighted by bad organization, crime, or some other misfortune, could bankrupt local cricket bodies, set the islands quarrelling and leave disgruntled visitors vowing never to spend another dollar in that part of the world… Jamaica’s new airport is not finished (it is still not finished in fact), the new Sabina Park stadium has been bogged down with