Bollywood owners were brought in to appeal to cricket widows, music was blasted at stadiums because everybody loves to have their eardrums irreparably damaged, and cheerleaders in short skirts were brought in to appeal to, well, um, why were they brought in again?
In an effort to appeal to a wider demographic, Lalit Modi made some astute marketing decisions for the IPL. Inevitably, these decisions clashed with the purists’ virginal view of cricket.
Some of these compromises were understandable. In the quest to appeal to more people, purists will always feel slighted. However, it seems to be a unanimous opinion among IPL watchers that commentary has been compromised. We understand that it might make short-term business sense for brands to piggyback on boundaries, wickets and catches. But when every ad feels like we’re losing our attention to subterfuge, the commentators feel less like our knowledgeable uncles, and more like greasy second-hand car salesmen.
My criticism lies only partly with the commentators, most of whom have stagnated rather than blossomed in the T20 era. How many commentators go home and hone their trade? How many actively seek constructive, unbiased criticism and work on their flaws? It is a tougher gig than most fans would appreciate, and it requires a great deal of mental agility.
But, it is also a job that is the envy of millions. As such, it should be treated with respect and dignity. I cannot accept that several years on, a few commentators still speak English as if they have learned the language by listening to tapes of Yoda.