Srinivasan: I don’t like this venue for our clandestine meetings, it is a straight give-away .Which idiot chose it?

Modi ( with a sadistic smile): I did.

The venue was called The Lalit.

Manohar: Good morning, everyone! I am glad ..

Modi (interrupts, sarcastically uttering with a wicked smile): It is 5 minutes past 12. It should be Good afternoon.

A thick impenetrable silence pervaded the chic conference room where a large glittering chandelier swung precariously from the ceiling, shaking like Shakira doing a Waka Waka from left to right.

Srikanth looked disconcertingly upwards and sneezed. Srinivisan gave him a dirty look for the bad omen, whispering in tandem: Om Shanti Om!

The atmosphere reeked of restrained animosity from all its venerable occupants. A stage set for a dramatic confrontation.

Manohar: Whenever you are around, everything is chaotic. Tense. Anyway Lalit, why are you washing all our dirty underwear in public?

Modi: Linen Shash, linen-that’s the apposite expression in the Victorian language! You know why? Because we are all VIPs remember? I am also planning to get the underwear brand to be our next sponsors after DLF. Imagine it will be called VIP IPL. That will be the wow factor! We can even sponsor streakers as a new revenue stream wearing VIP frenchies to protect Indian sensibilities. They will literally take the pants off the cheerleaders also.

Manohar: But why wash our dirty VIP linen…

Modi: Actually, I have a habit of cleaning things up, Shash. Completely. I am a man of high ethics and valuations.

Srinivasan: You mean values.

Manohar: And stop calling me Shash.

Modi: Coolio, if that’s the way you want it, Mr Shashank Manohar President-Not-Yet-Suspended of BCCI.

Srikanth sneezed, and the chandelier was now swinging rather dangerously. For the first time, even Manohar and Srinivasan looked at it suspiciously. Modi looked unfazed and seemed to be chuckling at their discomfiture.

Srininvasan: Lalit, I hope you have no foul intentions.

Modi: You guys are paranoid. I am no Phantom of the Opera. If I have to knock you guys out, I will not waste that awesome glass-piece on your thick-heads. It may not work on you all.

(Exasperated, Modi looked at his watch.)

Modi: Anyway, move on. We have just 10 minutes. Time is money.

Manohar: Why are you so sensationalistic? Always leaking news to the media?

Modi pointed to his see-through black shirt. Because I wear my transparency on my chest. They don’t call me a perfect show-man to the T for nothing. In fact, I accuse you of leaking away all the time.

Srikanth sneezed and with his little finger indicated he was taking a bio-break.

Srinivasan: (hollered back at Modi I make cement, Lalit. Breaking news is against our corporate philosophy. No leaks have ever emanated from me. Ever.

Manohar: Lalit, you have clear conflict of interest issues.

Modi: Wrong! I have no conflict of interest. I only have interest in conflicts.

Manohar seemed to have liked that confession. He nodded in acquiescence.

Modi: I am a patriotic fellow. The Americans called cricket like a game of baseball on valium. So I just changed it to Viagra. I am a genius.

Srinivasan: Creative destruction, I have to say.

Srikanth returned from the rest room and let out a loud sneeze to herald his arrival..

Srinivasan: Om Shanti Om!

Modi: Funny fellow! They call him Cheekha but he only sneezes.

Manohar: Thanks to you Lalit, we have become a laughing stock of the nation because of your shenanigans.

Modi: You are welcome! At least, I have made you a stock. Given you some value.

Srinivasan: But this stock will never see any appreciation, Mr Modi, all because of your vested interests.

Modi: Remember what Pawar saab said, we are like one big family. That’s why all of us have crossholdings. I can’t understand why you all are getting so cross about it.

Manohar: But why are only builders involved in all controversial stakes? .

Modi: Because we are still building the IPL brand. It is work-in-progress. We need specialists, for DLF’s sake, to make it all work brick by brick.

The chandelier swing had mysteriously subsided.

Modi: In fact, a perceptive company is planning a movie on my illustrated career.

Srinivasan: Illustrious, you mean.

Modi: That’s the problem with you Srini—. Exactitude. With rare exceptions like bank guarantees lapsing, of course . Ha Ha!

Srinivasan gulped a glass full of coconut water.

Modi: I am planning to give all of you roles in that film. You will play yourselves. But Shash, you will have to lose some weight. And Cheekha, you will have to stop sneezing and start shouting.

Srikanth: Cheeka, Sir! Really Sir? You are a good selector, Lalit Modi Ji.

Srikanth uttered his first and last words of the afternoon. And he did not sneeze.

Sush—-, whispered Srinivasan. I hear sounds. I suspect the media has sniffed us out. I suspect a sting operation. Be careful. I suggest we sneak out quietly.

Modi: Srini, stop Sush—ing. I don’t like you making things personal. Keep her out of it.

Srinivasan: She? Who? Where? What? Why? Whom? How?

Manohar (screamed like a vuvuzela in a South African football stadium): Enough! This farce is now suspended. Until our next farce, errr, I mean our next meeting.

Everyone dispersed using separate exit doors. As Srikanth departed using the kitchen’s spiral stair-case, a sneeze was audible.

Modi used the main door and walked out to a large battalion of press-and TV photographers shoving microphones into his wide mouth .

“Sir , what happened sir. Please tell us your Breaking News, sir.”

Modi started out by clearing his throat: This is brought to you by Vicks, a Proctor and Gamble company’s product.

Modi continued: At the end of the day……( Then he suddenly remembered the gag order of BCCI).

“Yes, sir, please sir. At the end of the day?”

Modi: At the end of the day…………….there is night.

A fortnight earlier I had woken up in London, my first morning of a long-planned and eagerly awaited summer break, to see the picturesque Kensington gardens, its quaint charming interminable stretch interspersed by well-arranged trees and immaculately trimmed rose bushes. And of course, an impenetrable silence. My coveted moments of blissful tranquility was to be, however, very transitory.

As I opened the sports section of the Daily Telegraph, a familiar smug countenance stared back at me, as if with a deliberate sadistic design. It was our good ole peripatetic IPL Commissioner currently in “suspended” animation giving one of his characteristic bombastic interviews.

Elsewhere, the BCCI had callously if not altogether contemptuously dropped plans of sending an Indian team to the Asian games. And of course, a certain Mr Aniruddha Deshpande, a real-estate builder from Pune had become the latest albatross round the neck of former BCCI chief and Union Minister Sharad Pawar.

No matter how hard you try to escape desi cricket and its inimitable, fashionable faux pas, it has a knack of surfacing both with mischievous delight and with exasperating regularity. It is like a fait accompli. But I still successfully resisted my urge to do a column as I soaked in the unpredictable English summer.

As I now rummage through the evidently cataclysmic revelation about Mr Pawar’s financial stakes in a failed bid for the Pune franchise, I am compelled to reproduce a section from my just published book 11-Triumphs, Trials and Turbulence Indian cricket 2003-10, which will tell you as to why I am surprised as to how we all seem so remarkably stunned and hugely dismayed by the dingy disclosures. The writing was always on the wall, only we chose to treat it like an incomprehensible alien dialect.

So here goes and I quote:

 ”India has 600000 villages and even today over 70% of our billion population lives in rural areas combating drought, poverty, money-lender’s avarice, large disguised unemployment and perpetual indebtedness. Farmer suicides is a brutal reality of our country. But no media outlet has seriously debated why should India’s Agriculture Minister defocus from a compelling national priority by taking honorary charge of a cricket body? Why ? Isn’t it ridiculous that instead of resuscitating a dilapidated BJP senior party leader Arun Jaitley holds on to his DDCA position even as a mercurial Laloo Yadav joins the fray. What is the mesmerizing magnetic appeal of cricket administration for such veteran public servants? And frankly, how can one alter the complete BCCI structure to enable fresh talented recruits, transparent management, professional expertise, and an accountable institution to emerge ? I think the cricket loving public of India deserves a lot more respect.

” The early monsoon showers have thankfully arrived, but for Indian cricket, as always the heat is on.

See you soon!

Frankly, I had no such silly notions. This was the first time that I had ever stayed at a five star luxury hotel, secretly thrilled that one would be sharing the same roof as probably my favorite Indian cricketers did. This time I would be there in that centrally air-conditioned space longer than my short DCM Management Trainee interview. During my stay, the President hotel must have seen the highest consumption of club sandwiches ever, which was the most tummy- satisfying and value- for- money dish that took long to consume. I hoped to catch a glimpse of the revered bunch in whites in the coffee-shop as a result. Also, where else could you get chicken, ham, fried eggs, mayonnaise and potato fries on toasted bread at the same time?

But I think I am digressing right now. Unfortunately, the cricketers usually stayed at the more up-market Taj at Apollo Bunder.

We were allowed (since we were resident of the Taj Group of hotels) to go to the happening discotheque at the pricier cousin’s hotel called 1900s. It was Bombay’s hottest night-spot. Those of us who were single and ready but had no one ready to mingle with would hang around in a stag group in an inconspicuous dark corner and order one soft drink after another every half an hour in a table for five to keep our house guest reputation intact. And while Mumbai’s crowd jived, shook and swayed away to Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody, we would be just be ogling with the expression of a professional bird-watcher.

On one such desperate occasion, I saw Imran Khan, the visiting Pakistan pace bowler.

Imran Khan truly looked like a cocky king of the jungle. Adonis looks, tight-lipped, taut masculine features, casual rock-star curls, carrying a majestic aura palpable through his serene disinterestedness at everything happening around him. He sat at the head bar, surveying the dance floor with an inscrutable expression, as he sipped his wine or beer and shook hands reluctantly with strangers whose grins broadened wide enough to give an inferiority complex to Eddie Murphy. Khan had some famous city socialites as hostesses who played Florence Nightingale to him with immaculate perfection, protecting him from star-struck PYTs.

The lanky Pathan apparently invaded several couches during his team’s cricket tour and redefined cross-border relationships. Bollywood heroines were allegedly suitably impressed by the Khan’s lethal in-swinging yorkers much more than Sunil Gavaskar. Guys being guys, we manufactured sexual innuendos like how Khan reached ‘zenith with Zeenat’ jokes. Khan’s conquests were legendary but were talked about in hush-hush tones in the absence of discarded evidence. The Indian cricketers were apparently meanwhile doing flexibility exercises and 400 m jogs under the watchful eyes of their coach , and tucking into Guajarati thalis at Samrat as a reward thereafter. There were exceptions though.

Sandeep Patil was considered to be a real Casanova sort, because in the days of 5ft plus types like Gavaskar, Gundappa Vishwanath and Syed Kirmani, he was seen as the strapping muscular broad shouldered hunk. Ravi Shastri was perceived as cricket’s Hugh Hefner because of his engagement with a Bollywood actress, rather rudely called as “Mard” Singh. After Shastri’s liaisons became public, the crowd saw him as a different kind of a ‘player’ (I suspect Yuvraj Singh is going through a similar predicament). I have never seen any cricketer being booed for no apparent reason as Shastri. Even if it rained, they blamed poor old Ravi whose gentle left-arm spinners seemed incongruously unmatched to his aggressive social existence. I guess the peripatetic Shastri is now taking his revenge via the microphone.

But the turning point was the royal Nawab of Pataudi’s tryst with glamorous actress Sharmila Tagore. In my opinion, the real romance of cricket and Bollywood received solid legitimacy with that solemn union. Others merely followed that haloed tradition in different hues.

An odd couple was Parveen Babi and left-hander Sunil Durrani. There were intense rumors about the Prince of Kolkata, Sourav Ganguly and south-based actress Nagma as well, but none got sufficiently researched enough to create a modern classic. Of late, it is only poor Yuvraj Singh who is the needle of suspicion for all naughty stuff at nocturnal hours.

Essentially, the Indian media treated off-field activities as the private sacrosanct space of a professional sportsman .Nothing wrong with that. But subsequent reports surfaced about Vinod Kambli’s mindless partying and how it jeopardized his rising career mid-way in a nasty sudden halt. That a famous former Indian captain’s susceptibilities for the glitzy night-life and associated accompaniments trapped him into inevitable disaster, leading to the dark match-fixing allegations. There were other well-known victims of sleaze. But the Indian media never comprehensively reported what should have been easily discernible to the probing eye . It was deemed a consecrated personal territory, you see. But is that how it should be? Where is our expected rectitude?

A few days ago, the Hindustan Times carried a candid, graphic confession of an IPL fashion party visitor, a first-hand report of a young cricketer playing for one of the franchises, which was to say the least, scandalous. The first-person account of the glamour-blown tyro manifested the ravenous appetite of some ‘senior cricketers’ for more than just one arm candy at a time. Isn’t it atrocious then that the BCCI looks the other way when IPL late-night bash and bang is on, but chooses to be so self-righteous over a pub brawl in the West Indies? Is that not a glaring contradiction? And are we not guilty of turning a blind eye to obvious trouble-spots?

I quote from my book 11-Triumphs Trials and Turbulence: Indian Cricket 2003-10: “A few young journalists told me about the ‘senior cricketers’ and their great fondness for extra-curricular activities when traveling (Sri Lanka seems a real hot-spot) and it sounded quite freakish. Why don’t you write about it, I asked. Are you crazy? We will be totally boycotted by the entire media fraternity”, I was told. ” And the cricketers will never talk to us again”.

The above reflects our real dilemma in the Indian media; are we being over-protective and deliberately circumspect and secretive about the fallibility of our superstars on the questionable pretext that their private life is irrelevant in the larger context of the game? That we should desist from public scrutiny of their social interactions as it will be deemed intrusive? But on the flip side, since we tom-tom our cricket heroes as role models and national paragons, shouldn’t we be more exacting in our expectations of them in all spheres of life as well?

After all, once in public life does not the margin of error for everyone reduce dramatically? Did not Shashi Tharoor have to quit his ministerial portfolio over supposed intent of profiteering? So why should the media choose to ignore certain blatant indiscretions of our hugely lionized cricketers?

Frankly, why should anyone be an exception to the rule, including coaches, cricket administrators, and the like?

A leading national daily printed a front-page story on the alleged attempt by a leading IPL luminary to deny a visa to a South African fashion model. While we heard realms on Sunanda Pushkar, no one really dug deep to unravel what appeared to be a high-handed attempt at a grotesque misuse of authority.

Tiger Woods has been almost reduced to a whimpering mouse, the greatest legend golf has ever seen. John Terry, has been stripped of the coveted captaincy. Kobe Byrant went through a nightmarish phase, and Mike Tyson’s monumental downfall began with some mischievous punches out of the boxing ring.

Why are Indian cricketers seen as perennially flawless, when it is perfectly understandable that it is human to err? Is that much exaggerated halo responsible for the public backlash that follows every time the Indians crumble? Are we responsible for positioning them as ‘Gods’ when they are all actually mere mortals with feet of clay?

There seems to be some unwritten unspoken code that makes the India media blush crimson about writing about the sexual peccadilloes of our almighty cricketers, amongst other shenanigans. I thought Gary Kirsten’s mandatory diktats on pre-requisites for prime fitness to our greenhorns could have been the appropriate opening for reporting liberation. But we are in acute discomfiture talking of matters slightly awkwardly situated, I guess.

Where do we draw the line? While we certainly do not need to have a paparazzi culture, are we guilty of actually looking the other way when we can foresee a developing problem? Do we want some of our young vulnerable stalwarts to go the Kambli way? Or the more unfortunate victims of the match-fixing scandal that destroyed some brilliant careers in their prime? Remember, in the IPL age we are talking about young, simple, lower middle class to middle class cricketers who can get dazzled by the overnight euphoria of financial riches, their new celebrity status from virtual anonymity and easy availability of fringe benefits earlier thought unattainable.

Cricket could do with a conscience. And the media may have to take its definition of being a watch-dog more seriously. At least, let us bark before we bite.

It was a sultry hot summer evening of April when we landed in Dhaka, the entire contingent of the new born cricket portal CricketNext.com. As the Indian Airlines flight descended in awkward jerks from a cloudless sky, I reminisced with a peculiar sense of disbelief that fateful afternoon at the Oberoi  hotel in Mumbai just a few weeks ago. Pallavi ( my wife ) and I had gone all prepared , with a heavily worked out business plan capturing  projected eyeballs, competitor analysis, on-line ad revenues, off line events,  web-casting potential, the break-even levels etc , to meet potential investors in our internet venture. The famous trio of venture capitalists included  the crème de la crème of the cash-surplus jet-set.  They were indeed a formidable combination; the reclusive, Indian stock-market Big Bull-II Ketan Parekh, telecom czar Vinay Maloo of Himachal Futuristic and the ultimate global entrepreneur the world of cricket had ever seen, Kerry Packer. The irrepressible media tycoon who showed the game of cricket the multiple colors of money. We were in august company.

At the meeting though there was only Maloo and Parekh. We had met James Packer , Kerry’s son earlier in Delhi, and he had elicited interest despite maintaining a stoic immobile face. This was our litmus test, and we waited excitably , chewing our nails , looking forward to the vast expanse that was the Arabian sea. We were all set for a marathon surgery of our financial plans, an extended  number crunching exercise, confident with our impressive array of financial ratios and the future of the world wide web in our favor. Maloo and Parekh excused themselves, saying they would like a private confabulation  before we began our formal presentation. We ordered cappuccinos and practiced deep breathing exercises but that was to be a short-lived effort .  They returned within eight minutes to be precise. “ Ok, we are on. We will invest. Just make sure that you start with a bang.” That was the fastest deal this side of the Wild West.

Parekh’s words echoed deep in my mind, as with an acute sense of edgy energy we fastened our seat belts, all ready to create a historic feat in brand-building; the first dot com to sponsor the world’s unique Asia XI versus  Rest of World XI match , featuring elite cricketers  like Sachin Tendulkar, Jacques Kallis, Mark Waugh, Ajay Jadeja,  Sourav Ganguly, Sanath Jayasuria, Michael Bevan, Anil Kumble  et al. The Asia XI was led by Pakistan’s Wasim Akram, and for the first time ever, Pakistani and Indian players wore the same colors and had a common goal. It was quite honestly an unrivalled and bold experiment. CricketNext.com  was creating a history of unparalleled sorts.

But from the moment we landed , my editorial team suddenly went into a huddle , and it seemed like a calamitous downpour was on it’s way. Hansie Cronje , the South African captain had been identified as being in a secret conversation with dubious bookies and the Delhi police suspected a betting and massive match-fixing scandal. By the time we had even reached the hotel, the mood had changed from breathless expectancy of our big inaugural world-wide match to one of growing anxiety with the likely ramifications of the betting detraction. The world of cricket had been hit by the unexpected,  shattering news of gigantic proportions; match-fixing. And one of the most elegant cricketers of our times was in the fish-net. And would you believe it, but the suspicious bookie entrapping Cronje was someone called Sanjay!  Indeed, a summer week of co-incidences! It was in this bewildering back-drop that our big-bang match exploded into the international scene.

The match  played on April 8^th 2000  itself,  was the ultimate thriller. Bevan scored an incredible 185 runs in 132 balls, but the Rest of World XI still fell short by a mere 1 run chasing 320.. As it turned out, the CricketNext.Com match was a precursor to Bangladesh attaining official Test playing status. The huge financial investment we made in the ICC Cricket Week helped us achieve a rare milestone, still unmatched, based on my limited research; Cricketnext.com received an official postage stamp in it’s honor by the government of Bangladesh , the first dot com in the world to receive the prestigious privelege , thus also giving our fledgling internet company a haloed status in that country.. And we were not even two months young.

I met the canny negotiator , the ICC President Jagmohan Dalmiya, who had engineered a profitable deal for ICC with novice-beginners like us at a hefty profit. But then those were dot com days, and so while we still felt as if we had struck a gold mine for throw-away crumbs,  the ICC thought  they had subsidized the sponsorship value  for us new kids on the block. It was a win-win as the sad old cliché goes.

I asked Dalmiya if indeed match-fixing charges would be proven, and did he have an inkling about it’s dramatic expose. Dalmiya was remarkably honest. “ We know it is happening, that is no secret. But then it is difficult to track down the culprits”. “ Why” I asked him, feeling genuinely distressed. After all, one was converting a teenage fantasy now into our future business careers. I had reason to feel disconcerted. My wife, an intelligent  hard-nosed business woman who always thought cricket was nothing but the revenge of Englishmen  for all things fast-paced and a dubious way of extending their fallen legacy was getting astronomically agitated with the sordid disclosures. Dalmiya shrugged his shoulders; “ It is tough to find evidence. And usually there is no trail”. From his demeanor one sensed that he did not like my exasperating questioning. I kept shut thereafter.

The cricketers in the Sheraton lobby were looking shocked but were studiously non-committal. The South African cricketers , in particular,  feigned ignorance and thought it was just  media creativity gone into an unrestricted  zone. One foreign cricketer thought it was a “ sub-continental conspiracy”.  Tendulkar’s late sports agent Mark Mascarenhas and Dalmiya looked like inseparable buddies and neither looked really perturbed at the disquieting disclosures. The  Bangladesh cricket officials were subservient to Dalmiya to an embarrassing degree. Despite the tectonic unmasking, I must admit that Dalmiya looked most unruffled and poised. “ We will see where the investigation leads”. One thing was apparent, the ICC President was fully aware that match-fixing was definitely happening in international cricket for quite some time. .

I was to later hear stories , at once sleazy , slimy and scurrilous ( my personal favorite alliteration) , that suddenly woke me up to the grim back-room realities of my preferred  sport. I had launched CricketNext.com because of a childhood passion , but in creating a business enterprise around it, my love for it dissipated rapidly with each passing day, with every instance of gross malpractise , shady misconduct, player immaturity and side-deals that epitomized the game. Behind the façade of  intrepid , combative and a professional cheerful bunch lay teams that were divided deeply and personal milestones, ballooning egos and power-play ruled. A few young journalists told me about the “senior cricketers” and their great fondness for extra-curricular activities when  traveling ( Sri Lanka seems a real hot-spot)  and it sounded quite freakish. “Why don’t you write about it”? I asked. “Are you crazy? We will be totally boycotted by the entire media fraternity”,  I was told. “And the cricketers will never talk to us again.”

Although we were to sponsor another Rest of World versus Asia XI match in London for the ex-British PM John Major’s  benefit for the Oval stadium in the English summer three months later , it was clear to me by then that the only way for us to mitigate the rising disillusionment with the game and the cricketers was to keep a safe distance away from getting too involved with their off-cricket field misdemeanors. The fact that our funding plans went hay-wire was perhaps a blessing in disguise, as the dot coms collapsed in an unstoppable hurricane sweep ( we just about survived) . There were too many intermediaries playing peculiar games; sports agents, media plants, TV channels, board officials, aggressive sponsors, retired cricketers and even inner camps within the team themselves. It was a different world out there, not visible on giant plasma screens. Frankly, one felt as handicapped as an opening batsman facing Malcolm Holding with no guards on; it was a trifle uneasy.

As subsequent events have since proven, it was a decision that we were not to regret.

Year:

It was in this background that seemingly Ganguly literally pleaded with the big boss of Nagpur cricket to not provide India’s opponents with a huge competitive advantage by trimming excess grass to make it literally a level-playing field. . All would be lost, protested Ganguly. But the local chief was adamant, as unrelenting as the rocks of the Vindhyachal  mountain ranges.  Apparently after a furious collision with the big boss, the skipper refused to play the vital game, citing physical injury .  Those who know Sourav personally well enough and also covered the match vouch for his upper thigh strain but speculation reigned that something was seriously amiss. India lost that match by a whopping margin, catapulting in a manner pathetic , an anti-climactic result by all standards.  The Final Frontier, our proud symbol of obdurate resistance was now captured in a ruthless grip by the celebrating Australians. The Indians trooped away, head hung low , embarrassed and humiliated.

But several questions remained unanswered; just why did the local chief refuse to give the national captain his favored turf? Why ? Under normal circumstances, it is customary practise to provide favorable conditions that suit the host team, so why was an exception being made despite a personal request ? Was inner rivalry between warring camps of BCCI  responsible for India’s dismal rout in conditions instead supporting the Australians?  Wasn’t that ridiculous, self-destructive and unethical? Did the defeat of our own national team did not matter as long as political victory of one camp was assured? Can Indian cricket be trusted in the hands of such parochial petty men with no patriotic sensibilities? The local chief , the big boss was incidentally one Mr Shashank Manohar, current President of BCCI.

In my forthcoming book 11-Triumphs, Trials and Turbulence Indian Cricket 2003-10 , I have referred to this peculiar contentious  issue. Actually, I wrote it several years ago. But by  sheer coincidence, India’s noted editor of national daily Indian Express Mr Shekhar Gupta has raised the same questionable conduct of powers-that-be in his editorial column IPL baby, IPL bathwater in Indian Express of Saturday dated April 24 2010 .

An excerpt:

“It is an aside , but an important one, so let me mention it. In October 2004 when ( Jagmohan) Dalmiya was riding high mainly on India’s on-field success , and “ needed to be put in place” , the groundsman in Nagpur had produced a green-top for the India-Australia Test ( when India were trailing 0-1 with only one more Test to go ) so fast -bowler friendly , that one look at it on the morning of Day 1 and Captain Sourav Ganguly got such a stomach-ache that he couldn’t play . Of course India lost within four days, and Australia had conquered their last frontier, winning a series in India. Dalmiya was brought down a peg too. Of course Shashank Manohar’s Nagpur has not produced another wicket like that since. There isn’t very much more of a mere mortal can say on this , but on some day of reckoning a distinguished gentleman from Nagpur would have to answer a tough question or two on this.”

“This slice of our cricketing history is relevant because it tells you what a vicious political game goes on for power in the BCCI. With the rise of an all-powerful ( Sharad) Pawar , all dissent, competition, internal political challenge, democracy vanished. Along with it disappeared any semblance of checks and balances. The new cricketing establishment became a cozy, closed, exclusive club whose members stuck out together  in  a display of loyalty not expected from our political class”.

As Manohar gets down to investigating the numerous wrongdoings of IPL Commissioner-Just Suspended , perhaps it is time he started by explaining to us all why the grass was so green in his beloved city of oranges six years ago? Let the process of purging the ills that have infiltrated Indian cricket be pure. The mopping up of the dirt operation must start at home.

The IPL scam is symbolic of a larger, deeper, terminal enervation of India, feels Sanjay Jha as he pitches for a drastic overhaul to rejuvenate the tarnished brand

We are a maverick freakish nation, forever skating on thin ice, circumspectly maneuvring Maoism one day, food price escalation the other, extraditing David Headley at one end but ultimately crashing headlong into a slippery subject called Sunanda Pushkar, a singular personality who abruptly threatened the world’s largest democracy. Welcome to Incredible India! Till a few weeks ago, Sunanda Pushkar would have sounded like the latest entrant into Raj Thackeray’s MNS, giving it some much needed urban respectability and gender diversity. But no, her name became an overnight bestseller, thanks to an orchestrated attempt by IPL Commissioner (the title itself bestows a peculiar power of unilateral authority) Lalit Modi to insinuate a secret cover-up for monetary gains by one of India’s dapper but controversial Minister of State for External Affairs Shashi Tharoor. Sweat equity was soon the new buzzword. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh was introduced via the media’s proxy medium to Ms Pushkar while attempting deft diplomatic negotiations in Washington with President Barack Obama. An Indian private corporate league tournament meant to be a summer show was snowballing into a political crisis, with the ruling party’s coalition partners allegedly having some deep, dubious, vested interests in the billion dollar plus property. Modi had waxed eloquent on the IPL’s reality TV entertainment quotient; ironically enough, he had himself become its lead performer.

As an economics post-graduate student of the early 1980s I remember reading that India’s population explosion was best explained by the fact that our able millions had produced babies because there was absence of any other form of entertainment. So perhaps unwittingly enough Modi and his august IPL colleagues have contributed to some major national priorities like enhancing per capita income by keeping the IPL matches on till close to midnight hour, and then further extending it by having fashion shows, late-night parties et al to ensure minimum risk of deviation. Maybe that is why IPL even has an entertainment tax waiver? Either way, in the IPL, cricket itself made a grand guest appearance.

By scheduling 60 matches in approximately six weeks through relentless cricket, pre-match discussions and post-match analysis on three hours of hit-and-run chase, the IPL meant to calculatedly numb the human mind into complete fuzziness; all other worldly pursuits could wait. Everything was meant to fade before Robin Uthappa’s towering sixes, Shilpa Shetty’s perennially expanding grin and Lalit Modi’s feverish autograph signing. Bollywood main releases shut down in acute nervousness, news channels were compelled to adulate Yusuf Pathan’s brutalities prior to covering the Prime Minister’s national priorities and for almost two months everything and everyone else appeared like cardboard props, the back-office inventory of the IPL juggernaut. Crowds shouted and shook, cheerleaders danced and corporate czars looked on with a smug expression at their fantasy land. Modi as usual blew his trumpet and the world genuflected in front of his “fool-proof business model” that would have made John Maynard Keynes sweat in his grave. Everything seemed like a hunky-dory joy-ride. Almost. All that Modi had to do was to let loose his irrepressible vanity van through a cocky snide innuendo on Twitter. The rest is history, so I will spare you the subsequent sordid developments which hint at arms money, tax havens, huge bribe transactions, political involvement at the highest levels, power play, and daylight violations of fundamental principles of governance. A scam appears like an understatement.

Lalit Modi is a manifestation of India’s new powerful rich. Everything is measured by commercial exploitation and political contacts; adhering to ethical standards, basic human decency and respect for the law of the land is considered being old-fashioned. Self-aggrandisement and blatant self-promotion are the dominating influences in this new enterprise. What helped his cause was the unquestioned support he received from eminent names such as Sunil Gavaskar and Ravi Shastri and others in the IPL Governing Council who have assiduously maintained a stony silence on the subject. One man literally ran amok to bring the IPL to such ridicule.

The IPL, from becoming a frivolous, flippant, fun-like distraction, instead, now raises some pertinent questions we cannot ignore: Are we becoming a morally bankrupt nation, possessing a rhinoceros’s thick hide? Are we so unaffected by such flagrant corruption, opportunism and violation of norms? A poor hungry man who steals a purse or bread is called a thief and gets lynched to death by a violent mob but the same group happily overlooks big-time swindling of tax-payers funds and alleged criminal misconduct by dark-suited well-articulated Page 3 kind of wheeler-dealers? Isn’t that our shameless double-standards on display? What else can prompt post-Independent India’s classic statement hallmarking hubris: I am still Chairman-just suspended. Imagine Satyam’s R Raju saying, I was Chairman-just jailed now.

The franchisees quietly played along in the dubious game that Modi unleashed — the racket of financial valuations. Nobody knew the exact numbers of the franchises’ financial performance in Profit & Loss (P&L) or balance-sheets but rumours were frequently dished out that some of the franchisees had not just broken even but had even become profitable. It was deliberate falsehood being spread. Franchisees were guilty of not denying them, as transparent and professional businesses do. Instead, they fuelled it. The IPL was a happy cozy club, uninterrupted over champagne celebrations. Cricket and the common man were secondary priorities.

Across the entire spectrum comprising of political parties, corporate sector, industry associations, sports federations et al, India’s biggest challenge is its leadership. In the IPL it was evidently woefully lacking. The lesser said about the sleeping Big Brother BCCI, the better. Modi thus became like a swashbuckling buccaneer, the self-styled megalomaniac who cared two hoots for anything remotely resembling sensible governance.

There were two things that perhaps gave Modi his cocooned comfort and serene umbrage: Firstly, his vast political contacts, and secondly, his belief that even if things should go horribly wrong, it would still not affect him. It is a damning statement on the abuse of office by some elected representatives in Indian Parliament. The involvement of political personalities in sports requires a serious national debate in the light of the IPL.

Will we have an IPL 4 given the unpalatable mess we are in? Assuming the IPL can be resuscitated from its current crisis, a drastic overhaul is necessitated to rejuvenate the tarnished brand.

In short, the IPL scam is symbolic of a larger, deeper, terminal enervation of India. It is alright to keep beating the war-drums about our impending domination of world economic affairs and our unstoppable consumer-labour markets, but if we don’t get our house in order that tall promise might just remain a pipe dream. The clock is ticking. And fast.

The following could be the way forward. My suggestions are:

Will there be an IPL 4 at all or is a temporary strategic time-out necessary before it makes a well-washed , shampooed and dry-cleaned return? Or will it just appear next April rising like the proverbial Phoenix from the ashes , buoyant and boisterous in confidence, without snooper dogs fishing for foreign exchange documents in its rather infamous dark corridors?  There are many who have posed these  questions publicly of late and most certainly  in private conversations. After all, don’t we chat cricket ceaselessly at the slightest pretext in our cricket obsessed nation ? For the die-hard fanatic who loves the boom-boom  three-hour pageant of sorts  the consternation is understandable, the alternative of watching Akshay Kumar’s slapstick comedies is understandably a foreboding proposition.  But for boring traditionalists like yours truly that is a superfluous puerile subject; does it really matter? After all, how can the absence of 45 days of summer  jamboree , an abbreviated  derivation from the great game be considered so indispensable ?  

The genuine apprehension about  IPL’s future is based on the innumerable statutory enquiries involving serious offences such as money laundering,  betting and match-fixing, manipulated bids, kickback deals, dubious cross-holdings, it is all a virtual mess.  Even fly-by-night  casinos by comparison will stand out like a pristine, pure and  professionally managed operation. At the moment, India’s  foremost investigating agencies such as the Income Tax,  Enforcement Directorate, Directorate of Revenue Intelligence are all on a hot trail of alleged misdemeanors perpetrated with casual abandon by the IPL management.  These investigations based on past experience can become highly time consuming , depending upon the convoluted nature of financial transactions that they are tracking. What if that process reveals damaging issues requiring a fresh look at the IPL operations, structure and ownership and compels a systematic  restructuring ? To expect a comprehensive and speedy resolution will be rather foolish but there is hope given that the PMO ( Prime Minister’s Office) is now following its trajectory in minute detail. 

I am proposing below a radical new-look at IPL with the prime objective of making the tournament totally transparent, player-friendly, spectator-oriented and most importantly, with global recognition and ICC backing, and yet an “Indian” Premier League title. It could be the best way to not just  salvage a smudged brand but even reanimate it and make it truly representative on a world-wide scale. 

SALVAGING IPL ( This is extracted from my article The Summer of 2010 published in The Sunday Pioneer dated May 2^nd 2010)

 My suggestions are:

1. As the first round of franchise bidding seems to have been conveniently manipulated to suit favored parties , ideally fresh franchise auctions ought to happen with terms being listed in the public domain. Clauses barring conflict of interest etc need to be incorporated and the entire selection process must be done with full disclosures in the presence of the entire IPL Governing Council.  The existing franchise owners should be given the right to re-bid or match the highest bidders in the fresh auction to retain their franchises. Essentially, they should have the first rights of refusal. Alternatively, fresh bidding should be done only for those franchises where the ownership patterns are found questionable after investigations conclude. Those who fail to reacquire their franchises must surely be knowing that all businesses come with a risk of failure.
2. The IPL Governing Council should have 11 members.
3. There should be at least 3 members representing “ other” international cricket boards on the IPL Governing Council whose players participate in the IPL or potentially could in the future.
4. The ICC ( International Cricket Council) must be represented to ensure that the tournament is conducted on international norms with presence of Anti-Corruption squads , proper drug testing , rules governing presence of extraneous humans in dug-outs and dressing rooms etc.
5. If points 3 and 4 are enacted the IPL can then request for being part of Future Tours Program  of ICC and teams can have their best players throughout the tournament . This would actually be the single most critical aspect to make the IPL brand truly “global” instead of the self-congratulatory proclamations that we keep hearing.
6. The Franchisees must nominate one amongst them to be part of the IPL Governing Council.
7. The Players Association needs to be resurrected and they should have a nominee as well. Who else can argue against that ludicrous salary cap of USD 7 mln , the abrupt sacking of Ravinder Jadeja ( by the way this poor fellow was not good enough for IPL but  is in the World Cup team ) and Gautam Gambhir getting a monetary fine for criticizing another team’s chances?
8. The BCCI should nominate 5 eminent citizens including distinguished former players with no conflict of interest issues. The IPL Governing Council will thus have a diverse Council representing all interested parties and would be collectively responsible.
9. The IPL Governing Council must set up a proper administrative machinery headed by full-time professionals and not just titular heads dancing to the tune of the Council.
10. There should be an Ombudsman-kind of position created as the eleventh member of the IPL Council with a casting vote on sensitive issues which get deadlocked.
11. There should be no salary cap on player earnings and franchises should be allowed to hire any player based on their financial capabilities and risk appetite. This will create the missing element in IPL , the absence of clear-cut heavyweight favorite teams and also give the cricketers their real commercial worth. Local players can have a fixed share of 3-4 places in the playing team.
12. Only 8 teams should play every year with the bottom two relegated out on an annual basis. This will ensure that we will not have a mindless 94 matches in 50 days. IPL should have a cap of maximum 45 days per year.
13. The IPL championships must be played on a truly league basis with no knock-out element thus rewarding the better teams for consistent performance during the six-week period. The current format is preposterous with a capital P as it makes a mockery of the league format by introducing the knock-out from the semi-finals stage itself. At most, the top two teams only should contest a finals comprising of a best of three games.

The above is not an abstract utopian recommendation but a pragmatic approach to looking at IPL as a long-term proposition, professionally managed, possessing global credentials  and respecting the ultimate shareholder ,the public of India.  I rest my case. Over to you.

 Please click here to read the full article.

http://www.tehelka.com/story_main44.asp?filename=Op010510doomedto.asp

1) IPL Commissioner and his so-called ” Governing Council” sold new franchises for up to USD 333 million (Kochi) and USD 370 million (Sahara) just a few weeks ago on the sanguine if not sacred belief of their ” recession -proof”" theory that all IPL franchises will be hugely profitable in a short period. No sane rational businessman usually invests large cash upfront unless they see massive revenue/profits down the line, right? Buying Lalit Modi’s logic , if Kochi and Sahara could be profitable in a few years, imagine the humongous success chances of Kings XI Punjab ( and others) on a significantly lower cost base of just USD 76 million, approximately only one fifth of the cost of Sahara, for instance. They (IPL Round 1 owners) also have a first mover advantage. Since finally it is profit numbers and operating margins that determine valuations, Kings XI Punjab would get a massive financial windfall if they sold later, borrowing the Modi-IPL argument. So why are they selling now in such tearing hurry especially as everyone is celebrating the “IPL 3 success”? Please remember that commercial value has nothing to do with cricketing performance in IPL; SRK’s KKR remains a huge draw irrespective of a mediocre to average show. So Kings XI Punjab’s last spot in IPL 3 may just be a convenient subterfuge.

2) Curiously, three of the four promoters of Kings XI Punjab have a strong corporate base, own large cash surpluses and are also asset rich. Mohit Burman (Dabur), Ness Wadia (Wadia Group- Bombay Dyeing) and Karan Paul ( Apeejay-Surendra) have such deep pockets they could sweep the floor through them. And from the look of it even Ms Preity Zinta, Bollywood actress is likely to get a whopping consideration in late director Kamal Amrohi’s real estate legacy. So prima facie none of them needs cash or monies at all. So why are they dramatically disappearing now? Together? All of them in one pack? Why is not even one of them remotely bullish about Modi’s great IPL business model?

3) What makes things even more strikingly perplexing is therefore the extraordinarily unusual price that seemingly the new purchaser Videocon Group is willing to pay , rumored to be in the range of USD 275 million which is almost 4 times the original acquisition price? Why ? It is virtually impossible that Kings XI Punjab even broke-even leave aside making a nominal profit. But let us be generous in our charitable intent and assume that they did that in just two years, but yet who would pay Rs 780-Rs 800 crore extra for the same property within just 2 years ? Why ? What motivates a big group like Videocon to take such a mammoth risk?

There is much more to it than meets the eye;

Is Kings XI Punjab aware of some inside information that others don’t?

Is this a manipulated platform to sell stake before the bubble bursts , which is known to key IPL functionaries who have created the ” valuation” hype over Kochi and Sahara to create that artificial benchmark pricing?

Is the IPL franchise investment like the junk bonds of Wall Street that has found willing suckers and therefore the early birds are leaving surreptitiously having made their targeted fast buck while others may be left holding dud stocks?

Is the IPL cartel doing the famous ” insider-trading” with kind blessings from the powers-that-be?

And pray, who could be silently guiding this entire transaction?

Who will be the biggest beneficiaries from this summer sale?

Too many unanswered questions. 

All we know is that looming large over the Kings XI Punjab (latest rumors even indicate a betting syndicate and match-fixing ) is the omnipresent shadow of the IPL chief Lalit Modi , whose son-in-law Gaurav Burman is one of the key promoters, who also owns valuable digital and media rights. Whew-IPL is the ultimate in family business! But the sanctimonious Modi is terribly upset about Shashi Tharoor’s impropriety ? LOL!

Enjoy your IPL match this Sunday!

But to address this evidently controversial subject we have to start from the very beginning, by asking Mr Modi himself some pertinent questions:

1. Can we have the list of all potential franchise bidders for the first round of IPL in Y 2008? We know who finally triumphed but what was the second best bid after Mukesh Ambani’s Reliance offer? By whom? Who were the first-round losers and by how much? How come Vijay Mallya retained his personal Banglaore turf and who did he pip to the supposedly “lucrative” ownership ? IPL needs to disclose the exact details (particularly now), or else, it can be happily concluded that this was finally only a privately held caviar, champagne and cappuccino deal, a convenient meeting of a well-orchestrated cartel group done in secret, violating all norms of transparency and proper procedure. Modi is obliged to do so in the same ” public interest” as his current investigation of the Kochi franchise compels him to do an IPO on Tharoor.

2. Can we have full disclosures of all stakeholders, irrespective of percentages, including names of fronting companies and “related parties”? Rumors have circulated fast and furious that there are many sleeping partners who have covert ownerships, hence the highly-staged valuation razzmatazz. Who are the several beneficiaries lying low behind Bollywood glamour et al?

3. How come a BCCI official was allowed to bid for Chennai which is a flagrant contravention of basic ethical standards? At least in that case, the owners of India Cements should have resigned from the BCCI to avoid a palpable conflict of interest. If cross-holdings involve BCCI/IPL officials then we can all safely assume that we have a humongous conflict for which Modi needs to offer us all ” public” a categorical explanation. We are waiting, Mr Modi.

4. How can the IPL commissioner actually discuss confidential matters citing ownerships, naming stakeholders personally and indulge in a calculated ploy to create speculation through penning trite lines on Twitter? It is bizarre. This had prima-facie nothing to do with the world at large (albeit Modi tries to sound so-self-righteous) so what is Modi’s real motive in raising it deliberately to attract and escalate media attention and involve the aam junta in his proposed political games?

5. Incidentally, who is Modi to question Kochi’s decision to give equity holding to anyone that they deem fit ? How is that relevant ? Will Modi question Ambani if he decides to offer part of his Mumbai Indian shares to Lady Gaga or Shah Rukh Khan makes Salman Khan a partner in KKR a-la- gratis ? Thus, is Modi playing another manipulative game with some ulterior motives?

6. Can Mr Modi explain his ” professionalism” in taking autocratic decisions without even consulting his own IPL governing council as alleged by the BCCI chief Shashank Manohar himself? Is that the way the much-haloed IPL enterprise should be run?

7. In fact, there is basic lack of due diligence right at the bidding stage itself by IPL which manifests it’s glaring incompetence. Rudimentary prudence demands that they should have obtained full disclosures of all financial investors and board of directors even before handing out the franchise ownership. Why now? And in any case, unless the new owners have serious issues of criminal misconduct , anti-national activities ,committed severe financial impropriety or attempted fraud , why should Modi have an objection? Because the lady concerned, a co-owner of the franchise, is a beautician who might be marrying Tharoor?

8. The attempt to draw in Tharoor is clearly vitiated, notwithstanding Tharoor’s inborn penchant for courting sporadic trouble. But Mr Modi, why does Tharoor’s private relationships and their monetary quotient require such a motivated exposure?

9. There are many who believe that Modi wanted the Ahmedabad franchisee to scrape through , hence the belated attempt at skullduggery. Do I see a Modi and Modi connection somewhere, a lurking shadow of mutual convenience lingering on to the sacrosanct 22 yard pitch now converted into a goldmine ? At the cost of stretching this soap-opera has the Sangh Parivaar got a member with a bigger game-plan?

Your guess is as good as mine.