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Wednesday, May 29, 2013

An Open Letter to the Indian Cricket Fan



(First published on NewsYaps)

Fellow BCCI™ Cricket Fans,

I am Ravi Kumar, a software engineer who lives in DLF™ Gurgaon. And I am sad. In fact I am downright angry. I am a regular Joe like you. I get up, take a Harpic™ dump, catch the Congress™ Metro, go to office, code and get back, tired as hell. Apollo Hospitals™life sucks, people, you all know that. If there’s one thing though that’s a bright Surf Excel™ spot in our lives, it’s the game of BCCI™ cricket. And what better showcase of that beautiful BCCI™ game is there than the Pepsi™ Indian Premier League. That brilliant idea in which India’s richest cities play for glory for two months of the year; and what a two months it is! Is there anything better than coming back from office and sitting down to 4 hours of the beautiful BCCI™ game? (The answer to that question, in case you were wondering, is ‘No’). A few Yes Bank™ Maximums and Maxmobile™ Strategic Timeouts later you’re on your way to bliss.

But lately that Kurl-On™ dream has been shattered. Shattered! (As I write this a Johnson’s No-More-Tears Shampoo™ tear rolls down my cheek). Apparently, there is Indian Parliament™ corruption in the IPL.  The BCCI™ game, pristine as it was, has been Daagh Acche Hain™ muddied.

Three Sahara™ players have been arrested by the Rapists ache hain™ Delhi Police for spot-fixing. Imagine that. It’s almost like all the games I watched and followed with Durex™ passion have no meaning anymore. It’s like, it’s all hollow. What will I do the next time someone hits a Yes Bank™ Maximum? Should I Vicks™ cheer? Or just sit there, knowing that it’s probably all a Red Chillies™ charade.  As an Airtel™ friend recently remarked, now that the BCCI™ cricket’s probably fake, all we’ll be left with is Karishma Kotak, Rochelle Maria Rao, the cheerleaders, the award ceremony, the hour long pre and post match TV shows and the after-parties. Sigh. This spot-fixing episode has clearly killed the game.

You know what this episode means though? It means that, at last, Ayn Rand™ greed has entered even the pure game of BCCI™ cricket. Earlier all cricketers played for was pride and KamaSutra™ love of the game. In fact, in just the latest Pepsi™ ad they show Dhoni enjoying the BCCI™ game so much that it warmed the cockles of my Hallmark™ heart. “What a man,” I thought. “Enjoys BCCI™ cricket even when shooting for an ad”. But all that’s dead now. This shows that the IPL was once all about the BCCI™ cricket but today...today players will even play for RBI™ money.

And what about the nation? Did these scumbags even once think about the millions of their fans who give up everything to watch them in Thums-Up™ action? This act is so anti-national that I won’t be surprised if ISI™ Pakistan is involved. Just take my example. What haven’t I done for the Pepsi™ IPL? I’ve regularly jumped red-lights on my way home from office because I’m usually late for the pre-match show. In fact, at one time I was even caught and had to bribe a policeman in order to wriggle out (missed the pre-match show that day, sadly). As I paid him the money, though, I had no regrets: nothing is too big a price to pay for the country. And why only me? Millions of our fellow countrymen give up productive work, family, friends and do their national duty everyday by plonking themselves down in front of the TV all evening. And it’s this great national sacrifice that these guttersnipes have mocked with this act. We might have hanged Kasab but till people like these are allowed to roam free, our nation will never be Bisleri™ safe, ladies and gentlemen, it’ll never be Bisleri™ safe.

It’s just greed is what it is. These players earn so much and still want to earn some more. Look at me. I own a car and a flat in a metro which puts me in the top 0.1% of Indians. But do I act greedy? Do I indulge in questionable tax-evading tactics to save just that little bit more? Do I back-stab people in office to get that promotion? Do I? The answer to all these questions is...er...well, since these are rhetorical questions I don’t really need to answer them. But I will say one thing: it is fun to sermonise. Wheee!

Anyhoo, gotta run now, guys. Arnab will be on TV soon thrashing everyone left, right and centre, demanding answers for the nation and making wrong-doers quake in their Bata™ boots. In fact, he’s just started! Look at his opening salvo: “We will be closely involved in this case because YOUR love for cricket is NOT for sale”. His EMI™ voice makes me go weak in the knees. And it sounds so goood on my new TV which I bought only because my favourite cricketer models for it. But I digress. Yes! My love for cricket is not for sale and it’s a shame what these people have done.

Now, Tata™.

A True Cricket Havell’s™ Fan,
Ravi Kumar