Dear Mr. Chairman
For a country that has long lost its status as an opinion leader, one was quite shocked to read that your board has decided to completely do away with the 50 over format starting the next domestic season. This may be a commentary on the sad state of the game in your country, but this momentous decision has triggered some intense reactions across the globe among experienced crickters and novices alike. While Shane Warne largely agrees with your stand on the format, Sachin Tendulkar wants the game to be played as two innings of 25 overs each to negate the effect of the toss and pitch conditions, which is not a bad thought as it were. The latest to join the bandwagon is the recently retired Anil Kumble, who believes the game should be reduced to 40 overs a side (which if pushed a bit harder is nothing but the T20 format)!
There have of course been murmurs of cynicism for almost a year now. Ever since a certain Lalit Modi's brainchild succeeded in attracting the best talent from across the world to a circus called IPL, tongues have been wagging. The lure of the dollar has been far stronger than the call of the nation for many a hero. The commercial interests for this format of course stems from the fact that its all over in a hurry, enabling the TV viewer to move on to other things in life. We live in an era of absolute attention deficit you see. And it is only ironical that the ODI format for long has allegedly threatened the original one - Test cricket!
That Test cricket will apparently survive all such threats is what experts seem to believe. I would say it is wishful thinking. We forget that there is still a set of unadulterated followers that deifies the 5 day version. This set keeps the game alive, enjoys a series of maiden overs in a row and follows the Ashes like nothing else matters. Sadly the set is getting older. It is only a matter of time before it vanishes completely leaving the game in the hands of the quick-fix generation.
But this is not about Test cricket, the eldest brother, who shall we say is, at least getting along for the time being. And it is not about the youngest one T20either, who is enjoying all the attention and adulation as it were. It is about the confused middle brother, ODI, LOI, 50 over cricket, call it what you will.
As I mentioned to you right at the begining, your decision to write this format off is quite a momentous one. One only wonders if you could not have thought this through, perhaps discussed it with the ICC, other boards or some wise men of the game before jumping the gun. Did you, for instance, think about what was it that was ailing the game? And therefore about making relevant changes the rules to make it more enagaging and giving it a chance to survive as opposed to hastening its burial?
Here is my humble analysis. While the format suddenly looks copiously long compared to the T20 version, there is still a lot left in it. The first 15 overs can make for many enagaging moments with the field restrictions, while the last 10 can get some great action with bats being thrown around. It is the middle that is the problem. And has always been. Powerplays notwithstanding. How often have we seen the game settle down into a predictable array of dot balls, singles down to long on, drive to sweeper cover and glance down to fine leg in that period of 15-40. Clearly, that is the phase where the fielding is now spread and wickets can't be lost in a jiffy. And this is perhaps the phase that is killing the game. The need of the hour is therefore to create some exciting moments here, which look rather difficult with the current rules. It is now time to shake the game up, get in some discontinuity and bring back the viewers.
As drastic and dramatic as it may sound, here is a set of suggestions that addresses the above.
1. As opposed to the 'maximum' quota of 10 overs, bring in a 'minimum' quota, by which every player except the wicket keeper has to bowl at least 3 overs each! What a sight it would be when Andrew Strauss, Gautam Gambhir or Ricky Ponting turns his arm over!
As a variation, create a 10 over block in the middle of the innings, starting the 16th over, called the 'Total 10'. Here, every player in the fielding side, barring the wicket keeper, bowls one and only one over - in any sequence that the captain deems fit. This of course is part of the quota of 10 overs that any bowler can bowl.
Imagine 'negative runs'(reduction in the score and not only for bad overrate). The next set of proposed rules involve that.
2. To keep the pressure on the engagement levels, the run flow and therefore on the batsman, after the Total 10, every set of 3 consecutive dot balls calls for a negative run to the batsman and therefore to the batting side. Added advantage - imagine a batsman, well settled, playing with No.10, trying to play out the first 5 balls and taking a single off the last ball. Would he want to do that again!
3. The non-striker can trade positions with his partner and take strike. But this would be at the cost of negative 2 runs from the total every time this happens. Again imagine, last ball, 2 runs to win. Ishant Sharma on strike, Yuvraj the non-striker. Will Yuvraj back himself to score 2+2 = 4 runs and trade places or let Ishant try a couple?
As a variation of the above, when a batsman gets out, he can choose to bat again in place of another one, but with a preagreed number of runs reduced from the total.
4. To keep the chase dynamic and balanced, runs can be bartered for wickets. At the end of 25 overs, the 2 captains quickly consult and agree on a revised target (provided both agree). Let me explain. If a side chasing 320 is 140/3 after 25 runs, it can 'offer' 2 wickets for 30 runs. And bring the revised total down to 290, with now only 5 wickets in hand.
These are just a few thoughts. As I said some of these may sound drastic, preposterous even. But hope you see the point. Which is that all is not lost. The 50 over format will survive; it just needs some deep thinking and fixing. But quite quickly at that.
Of course, I know that this is now left to other countries and is clearly beyond you now since you have other issues to chase. Your country has successfully helped create the world's first 'freelance' cricketer, wonder where that one is going now...
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday, December 21, 2008
To Subhash Ghai
Dear Subhashji
I was watching Ram Lakhan today for perhaps the 18th time and I said a few silent thanks to your parents that you were born. But in the same breath, I also said a few silent prayers to God, imploring him to get you to stop directing movies. I know this sounds like an oft-repeated account of fall from grace, but for me, an ardent SG admirer, your last few movies collectively is not a fall. It is more like a vertical plunge into the deep seas of disaster. And I have not even seen Yuuvraaj ( whichever way you choose to spell it).
My earliest memories of the silver screen are certainly not from your films, they are dominated by a tall man, who I believed , much like most of my generation, could bash up any number of men and do anything under the sun. But my first interaction with the LP record was at a public function in a far-flung suburb of Bombay where I grew up. I would stand next to the man operating the machine; he would ever so gingerly place the needle on the rotating disc time and again. Only to play one song. It went 'Om Shanti Om'. A few years later, I happened to watch that song on TV and was floored by the sight of a man dancing on a giant disc. And I was totally taken by the entire movie. Of course, I had no idea who you were then, I was not even 10. Then on a dark cold night, as a part of 'four-movies-all-night-on-the-new-sensation-called-VCR' at another roadside function (sigh! the begining of the end of projection on white cloth at public functions), I saw a movie with a rough looking bearded guy on a bike with a few cronies around, singing 'Ding Dong, Oh Baby Sing a Song' to a nymph-like girl. That I was taken in enough by the bearded man to iron in his shoddy image through a sticker on to my school shirt, only to be sent back promptly to change the shirt is a separate story. But I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. And I heard your name for the first time. Of course, I had earlier heard of 'Krodhi' and Vidhaata'; 'Saat Saheliyan' was talked about in hush hush tones all around, I had no idea why. And 'A Aa E Ee..Udibaba' was the No.1 on Binaca Geetmala forever.
A few years later I saw Meri Jung and I knew that the country was fortunate to have you as a film maker. Karma was an enthralling experience, I became a thorough patriot overnight and 'Dil Diya Hia Jaan Bhi Denge' continues to bring a lump in the throat over twenty years later. And when I saw 'Ram Lakhan' I swear I would have stuck your poster on any of the only 4 walls in our modest abode, had such posters been available then. I think the uproarious multiple intervention of 'My Name is Lakhan' is one of the brightest ideas in Indian cinema.
And then I saw Saudagar at a night show in a dingy theatre in a small town in eastern India, in the middle of my engineering days. It was the first time in my life that I had slept during a movie, that too after paying for it! But maybe I was really tired. A one-off mistake I thought and I wrote it off. And then in the middle of all that real-life-villian hoopla, Khalnayak happened. I saw it in the same dingy theatre and was shaken to say the least. I certainly dont think it was the theatre. Much as people seemed to enjoy it, I was shocked and scared. Was this the man who gave us Kamini and Thakral and Dr. Dang and Bhanu-Bhishamber and Sir John, such well defined villians? Was this all he could muster with such a strong title? Was this the begining of the end?
I tried to ignore Trimurti, after all you had not directed it, but I for the life of me can still not understand how you let that one come out. I have the greatest regard for the late Mukul Anand, but surely, it was your creative vision? What a waste of such a casting coup.
In the next few years, fortunately I became a 'Shah Rukh fan' to put it crassly and did'nt mind Pardes at all, though everybody around me was deriding it no end. And somewhere I was relieved that you had regained your magic touch.
But maybe this was a one-0ff. Taal had me flummoxed! I saw it twice to actually believe that it was as bad as it was. And I was then convinced. That it was not the begining of the end. It was the end. A vey sad one at that. The less spoken about Yaadein, the better. And speaking of Kisna is an insult to your past glory, it really is. As I said earlier, I did not venture anywhere near Yuuvraaj. Not because I didn't have the time or the inclination. But because I really can not tolerate any more insult to the man who I once idolised. I dont care what roles Sachin Bhowmick or Javed Akhtar or Dr. Reza or Farrukh Dhondy had to play in any of your cinematic victories and defeats, for me a Subhash Ghai film is just that. A Subhash Ghai film.
Subhashji, I asked God this morning. I now humbly request you. Please stop making movies. Go right ahead and produce and encourage talent and make Mukta Arts a global player and all that. But for the sake of your past, please think about the future. Please stop making movies.
And yes, the next time Ram Lakhan comes in for a rerun, put my name down for a 19th viewing...
I was watching Ram Lakhan today for perhaps the 18th time and I said a few silent thanks to your parents that you were born. But in the same breath, I also said a few silent prayers to God, imploring him to get you to stop directing movies. I know this sounds like an oft-repeated account of fall from grace, but for me, an ardent SG admirer, your last few movies collectively is not a fall. It is more like a vertical plunge into the deep seas of disaster. And I have not even seen Yuuvraaj ( whichever way you choose to spell it).
My earliest memories of the silver screen are certainly not from your films, they are dominated by a tall man, who I believed , much like most of my generation, could bash up any number of men and do anything under the sun. But my first interaction with the LP record was at a public function in a far-flung suburb of Bombay where I grew up. I would stand next to the man operating the machine; he would ever so gingerly place the needle on the rotating disc time and again. Only to play one song. It went 'Om Shanti Om'. A few years later, I happened to watch that song on TV and was floored by the sight of a man dancing on a giant disc. And I was totally taken by the entire movie. Of course, I had no idea who you were then, I was not even 10. Then on a dark cold night, as a part of 'four-movies-all-night-on-the-new-sensation-called-VCR' at another roadside function (sigh! the begining of the end of projection on white cloth at public functions), I saw a movie with a rough looking bearded guy on a bike with a few cronies around, singing 'Ding Dong, Oh Baby Sing a Song' to a nymph-like girl. That I was taken in enough by the bearded man to iron in his shoddy image through a sticker on to my school shirt, only to be sent back promptly to change the shirt is a separate story. But I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. And I heard your name for the first time. Of course, I had earlier heard of 'Krodhi' and Vidhaata'; 'Saat Saheliyan' was talked about in hush hush tones all around, I had no idea why. And 'A Aa E Ee..Udibaba' was the No.1 on Binaca Geetmala forever.
A few years later I saw Meri Jung and I knew that the country was fortunate to have you as a film maker. Karma was an enthralling experience, I became a thorough patriot overnight and 'Dil Diya Hia Jaan Bhi Denge' continues to bring a lump in the throat over twenty years later. And when I saw 'Ram Lakhan' I swear I would have stuck your poster on any of the only 4 walls in our modest abode, had such posters been available then. I think the uproarious multiple intervention of 'My Name is Lakhan' is one of the brightest ideas in Indian cinema.
And then I saw Saudagar at a night show in a dingy theatre in a small town in eastern India, in the middle of my engineering days. It was the first time in my life that I had slept during a movie, that too after paying for it! But maybe I was really tired. A one-off mistake I thought and I wrote it off. And then in the middle of all that real-life-villian hoopla, Khalnayak happened. I saw it in the same dingy theatre and was shaken to say the least. I certainly dont think it was the theatre. Much as people seemed to enjoy it, I was shocked and scared. Was this the man who gave us Kamini and Thakral and Dr. Dang and Bhanu-Bhishamber and Sir John, such well defined villians? Was this all he could muster with such a strong title? Was this the begining of the end?
I tried to ignore Trimurti, after all you had not directed it, but I for the life of me can still not understand how you let that one come out. I have the greatest regard for the late Mukul Anand, but surely, it was your creative vision? What a waste of such a casting coup.
In the next few years, fortunately I became a 'Shah Rukh fan' to put it crassly and did'nt mind Pardes at all, though everybody around me was deriding it no end. And somewhere I was relieved that you had regained your magic touch.
But maybe this was a one-0ff. Taal had me flummoxed! I saw it twice to actually believe that it was as bad as it was. And I was then convinced. That it was not the begining of the end. It was the end. A vey sad one at that. The less spoken about Yaadein, the better. And speaking of Kisna is an insult to your past glory, it really is. As I said earlier, I did not venture anywhere near Yuuvraaj. Not because I didn't have the time or the inclination. But because I really can not tolerate any more insult to the man who I once idolised. I dont care what roles Sachin Bhowmick or Javed Akhtar or Dr. Reza or Farrukh Dhondy had to play in any of your cinematic victories and defeats, for me a Subhash Ghai film is just that. A Subhash Ghai film.
Subhashji, I asked God this morning. I now humbly request you. Please stop making movies. Go right ahead and produce and encourage talent and make Mukta Arts a global player and all that. But for the sake of your past, please think about the future. Please stop making movies.
And yes, the next time Ram Lakhan comes in for a rerun, put my name down for a 19th viewing...
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