IPL drowns out election fever and war noise

By K.R. Nayar  

Mumbai. Election fever is at its peak in India, with four states and one union territory going to the polls this month. While there is constant breaking news on television channels across India about the West Asia war, undeterred by all this, from 7:30 pm, almost everyone is glued to the action in the Indian Premier League (IPL). Stadiums are also packed with cheering fans. On Thursday, April 2, all that mattered was whether Kolkata Knight Riders (KKR) would beat Sunrisers Hyderabad (SRH) in Kolkata, which unfortunately they did not. The home team lost by 65 runs.

Election promises in India gets listeners only till the toss. Once the first ball is bowled, election manifestos are strategically timed out.  Breaking news updates on the war that may pop up on mobile phones are not even glanced at. They are treated like unwanted fielders at fine leg, completely ignored. In the crowded Mumbai trains, passengers, despite being crushed and unable to breathe, watch the IPL action on their phones. Oxygen may be optional, but the live score is not.

Debate on the run-out following the bizarre mix-up that occurred on the final ball of the powerplay between KKR's Angkrish Raghuvanshi and Cameron Green in the match between KKR and SRH was watched and talked about more than who would rule the state or whether the gas supply would get affected if the war continues. What was funny in that incident was that Raghuvanshi seemed running like a man trying to catch the last Mumbai local, only to find his partner Cameron Green—whose pocket is heavy with the Rs 25.20 crore he received to play for KKR this season—being declared run out in a terrible mix-up. In short, Green did not provide a run for the money that KKR had invested in him.

The bizzare run out 

After the team batting first posts a total, all that the “Nation wants to know” (to borrow Arnab Goswami’s famous line) is the required run rate, rather than the number of missiles Iran or Israel or the US fired at each other. The general attitude is that the West Asia war and exit polls can wait. Anyone calling during match time is instantly downgraded to spam.

All that the ordinary cricket fan is interested is about the toss and how the pitch will behave, and not how the candidate who will be elected will govern. Whether the candidate will be friendly to his people, like a pitch that supports batters or bowlers, does not matter. Analysis by political experts on swing states turn uninteresting because what matters is how well the pacers can swing the ball in the match. The powerplay score is more important than who will come to power.

Despite the constant flashing of breaking news on the war, what matters is whether a pacer will break the wicket in the last over of the match. Cricket fans are not like politicians who switch parties overnight; they remain loyal to the teams they support.  Fans queue up to enter the stadium with more eagerness and expectation than when they queue up to vote at polling booths. The action at the stadium promises excitement but one cannot be sure that promises made by politicians will be fulfilled.

In India, when elections are on, everyone becomes a political expert. But the IPL upgrades them—they become selectors, coaches, umpires, and occasionally third umpires with ultra-edge opinions. Franchise owners are criticised for picking the wrong player, just as the High Command is criticised for giving a ticket to the wrong person. “Zindabad” takes a back seat to “Howzaat.”

The percentage displayed on a team’s chances of winning a match is debated more than the likely turnout percentage in a state for the coming election. Constituencies that are strongholds in some states for political parties are discussed with less vigour than the number of wickets in hand for a team to win the match. From 7:30 pm, except for the IPL, the pause button remains pressed.