Cricket and its meaningless contradictions

Why do we watch sport? Do we desire to witness the unbelievable moments of recorded magic that only sports can conjure? Do we wish to see men and women go through the same emotions which are more the territory of war, but with a chance of redemption war doesn’t offer? Do we wish to see the best and worst of human natures, of characters making a spectacle of themselves and sometimes a mere fool of themselves? Whatever the incentive, cricket can deliver, on most accounts. Tests can deliver in their own way, indulging you with quaint charms of the kind the younger generations aren’t well-versed with. One day internationals could be like picnics, if Tests could be compared to summer vacation excursions. T20s represent, well, the couple of hours’ fun that we steal during busy weeks, sipping drinks, enjoying luncheons and brunches.

Cricket is one of those rare sports played in three different international formats with more than a century-old legacy behind it. A century is a very long time, encompassing multiple generations of beliefs, principles, ideas, ideologies, strategies, techniques, numbers, salaries, crowds and grounds. Yet, cricket disappoints sometimes, not so much due to the charms of the game itself, but more so because of the administrators, the wand-wielders who call the shots. Most games keep reinventing themselves, with tweaks and twists made to accommodate modern trends. However, cricket stands out, more out of ordinariness than due to nimbleness. Some cricketing rules, to say the least, are chaotic, befuddling those who sit on the fence, waiting to fall in love with the game. The rules change way too often for anyone’s liking, but even more importantly, they change more out of a disdain for monotony rather than for the betterment of the game.

In a recent article that I read, the author suggests morphing the ODIs to mimic Tests – two innings of 20 or 25 overs each. Sachin Tendulkar is one of the more well-known exponents of this theory. It is not a bad idea; in fact, it is drastic and can change the way ODIs are perceived for good or for bad. Day and night Tests are being considered too. But even before one looks to transform the very nature of ODIs or tests, the administrators would do well to question some existing rules too. The game, at a juncture where it could become a schmaltzy, cheesy mess churned out for kitschy entertainment, could do with some questioning. Rob Steen, in one of his articles, points one such rule, the limit on overs a bowler can bowl. Honestly, it is a rule that doesn’t make any sense. If an opening batsman can carry his bat through the entire innings, what stops the bowler from bowling 25, if he is capable of doing it? Tests don’t have bowling restrictions, so why ODIs and T20s? If a bowler is so good that he could change the course of the game by bowling more overs, why shouldn’t that be allowed? It might take some strategizing out of the game, but I can live with that to watch a bowler like Dale Steyn bowl more than the quota of 4 or 10 that he gets to bowl.

Another rule I don’t understand is that of power-plays. How the presence of a minimum of 4 fielders inside the circle saves the game, is hard to understand. If the game needs boundaries and sixes to survive, for which 9 players on the boundary is an impediment, there is a fundamental flaw. The square leg rule which limits the number of fielders standing behind square to prevent continuous short-pitched bowling can make an excellent case study too. It is interesting to note that the game is partial, quite nonchalantly towards batsmen. Fielding isn’t even taken as a serious discipline. I could never understand why fielders need substitutes, it just doesn’t sound ethical enough for the gentleman’s game. The runner rule for example, was always controversial. A batsman, already out, can run for the current batsman, a fielder can be substituted, but a substitute bowler cannot bowl the usual bowler’s quota in case of an injury. A substitute wicket-keeper cannot be brought on to replace an injured keeper. The definitions of functions are often extremely misleading without any consistency, making it a nightmare for recent followers to understand what is going on. The two new balls rule in ODIs has killed reverse swing, squeezing the fun out of the game partially. Agreed, there is something audacious about 4s and 6s and no one prefers a dull game full of singles. Yet, outrageously one-sided rules add to the monotony. The IPL, for example, offers so many boundaries, that a 4 isn’t an event anymore, unless an over has three or four boundaries off consecutive balls or if it is a monstrous hit.

One can go on and on about the rules, the one dealing with lights at the end of the day in Tests, the umpiring decision review system and the 15 degree arm-bend rule, being some controversial examples. Perhaps one of the reasons why cricket hasn’t caught up with nations as beautifully as football has is the complexity of the rules. The T20 format has solved, to certain extent, the duration issue. To a layman though, the game is still a hard one to follow. Instead of tweaking rules just to alter a thing or two about the game, it is important to take a broadminded look at what the game needs and if possible, enhance its simplicity. There is a charm to Sehwag’s game, ‘see ball, hit ball’, he says. Crowds love him for that. The game, in spite of its pompous intellectual posing, should look to make the better things simpler, dissolving meaningless restrictions and complicated conjectures.