Silence of the fans

It was so ironic. And maybe a sign of the times. With ill-portends for the future. Sachin Tendulkar, the modern-age Bradman, India’s most lionized sportsman and revered citizen, a global role-model for a million young hopefuls was on the verge of making cricketing history. Not some mundane local ground record, or joining a select league of regional or national heroes . Tendulkar was just a few runs shy of overtaking the great Brian Lara in accumulating the highest aggregate runs ever in Test cricket record. Frankly, this is the ultimate pinnacle. The Himalayan accomplishment. The real milestone, amongst several of Tendulkar’s shimmering gems.

As he glided the ball away, eclipsing the mighty record, his colleagues rose in collective unison and the country took a deep breath of pent-up relief. Tendulkar looked skywards, as is his trademark reaction, remembering his father, thanking God. Sourav Ganguly, his partner in innumerable crimes against opposition, walked up and shook hands. Even the arch foes Aussies clapped for their enduring nemesis, in palpable admiration. But all Mohali could do was raise a cacophony that only a few thousand can muster. In such a great moment, there were only a few sections of the stadium that had some crowd attendance. The rest looked sparse, fans interspersed in small coteries, leaving multi-colored empty bucket -seats in a colourful display.

Take note: India is playing the numero uno team of Test and world cricket, arguably replacing the Ashes rivalry and that great cross-border conflict that sent pulses racing in breathless anticipation once, against Pakistan. Sachin’s historic record, Ganguly’s farewell series, and India looking ahead at an exciting triumph perhaps. It is an intoxicating combination even for an average adrenaline-pumping cricket aficionado. Better still, we are the Mecca , the holy pilgrimage of religious devouts, a madly cricket-obsessed nation. Yet, there are no crowds, even on a Sunday, on a crucial third-day of a promising encounter. Mohali is sending a message; T20 is claiming it’s first real victim, almost on expected lines, Test cricket. Test cricket; the real game, in it’s true classic form. The Wimbledon of cricket. The haloed sacrosanct turf which separates the men from the boys. And by the way, cricket’s sole Grand Slam.

I am sure that even the Aussies would have been stunned by the sounds of empty boards reverberating through quiet environs. Sachin, of course, was truly outstanding, narrowly missing a 40th Test century. 12000 runs and more await Sachin, but I hope he now focuses on Test matches and bids adieu to ODIs. India needs him to scale newer peaks. Sourav Ganguly, well, he did what those who know him are aware what he is capable of. In his farewell series, a vital 47, a numbing 26 not out, and then his 16th Test hundred, Ganguly will walk away into sunset boulevard at Nagpur, with his same confident stride. But some things will never be the same again. As usual, Ganguly quietly crossed the 7000 run-mark in Tests with his customary finesse, becoming the nation’s fourth-highest run getter in the process, joining Rahul Dravid and Sachin, of course, in a famous trio. And they tell me that age still matters. The Fab Four are not the Fab Four for nothing. They are like the Four Seasons hotels; stylish, elegant, reliable, flawless, distinctive, pedigree.

I therefore find it acutely embarrassing to see a certain Mr Lalit Modi, theBCCI functionary pose in an a TV commercial for a telecom company, and cockily proclaim (thank God he cannot deny this as a distorted media misquote) that ” I created IPL. I listen to no one. I am Me” puerile claptrap. You bet you don’t listen to anyone, Modi, in an autocratic set-up where personal whims dictate cricketing fortunes, why should you?

But before Modi begins celebrating the myopic Forbes (American business magazine ) ranking of him as one of the most influential sports figures, he should take a deep pause. Not even Forbes best research dudes, savvy marketers and enviable success experience could tell them about a forthcoming doom called Lehman Brothers. The champagne-uncorking could be pre-mature. If Mohali is any indication, then Modi will not be remembered for revolutionizing the mega-commercialization of global cricket. But for the demise of the game itself.

The silence of the fans can be deafening.