The cricket world owes West Indies
WHILE WE bask in the afterglow of the West Indies’ shock result against Australia, let’s take advantage of the outpouring of affection it has elicited.
Shamar Joseph, the irresistible boy from Baracara, fought through the pain, inexperience, and Australian aura of invincibility to remind the world that our talent still flickers. What it is starved of are the resources to reignite, something the world game is not short on. But the West Indies does not get a share commensurate with our unique contribution to the staggering economics of today’s game.
FAST-GROWING MARKET
Technological advances, plus the popularity of Limited Over formats are responsible for the commercial explosion of cricket, now the second biggest sport by fan base and top five in revenues. The Indian Premier League’s (IPL) US$6.2 billion in broadcast rights, on a per match basis, makes it the most valuable sports league in the world, eclipsing even America’s National Football League (NFL). Major League Cricket in the USA threatens to ‘nitro’ that fast-growing market, funded by titans like Satya Nadella, CEO of Microsoft, and Mukesh Ambani, the world’s 10th richest man. Our equity in this phenomenal commercial and geographic growth needs to be accounted for.
In the 1970s, to make the game more appealing, cricket’s hierarchy set out to clone West Indies’ swashbuckling approach and introduced Limited Overs cricket. It’s no coincidence that we won the first two cricket World Cups and were upset losing finalists in the third. We needed no adjustment to our natural stroke-playing flair, scoring rate or fielding athleticism. It was instinctive and infectious. Limiting the overs forced everyone else to play the “Windies way”. ‘Calypso cricket’ was no longer derisive. It was what people wanted. You’re welcome, MCC.
Then there was the special way we celebrated the game off the field.
COLOURFUL, ANIMATED CROWDS
We always had colourful, animated crowds at cricket in the Caribbean. But when ‘Chicki’s Hi-Fi’ started belting tunes in the stands in Antigua, it heralded a new era. Our innovative ‘party stands’, the famous Mound at Sabina Park reigning supreme, added music and live entertainment to create a unique atmosphere to match our on-field panache. It was us. But not everyone appreciated the raucous frolicking by ‘mound maniacs’ cooling down in the swimming pool, even as Jamaica’s tourism took advantage of its broadcast coverage. One journalist described the Mound as “dragging cricket into the gutter”, so appalled by the bacchanal. Others derided the concept as distracting. Never comfortable, Jamaica’s cricket authorities eventually terminated the Mound and closed the pool despite its popularity. They didn’t see the value.
Someone else saw it. When Channel 4 won the broadcast rights to Test cricket in England, they dispatched a team to the Mound to observe and take notes. This led to Third World band performing live during a Lord’s Test, the first time the hallowed ground was being “desecrated”. An imitation ‘Mound’ was created at Clapham Common, pool and all where thousands gathered to watch the matches on video screens, pretending they were in the Caribbean at the real thing. There was no turning back. Versions of party stands started to pop up around the world, imitations inspired as they watched and envied our vibe. When India watched Sunil Gavaskar dancing on the Mound with Beenie Man in the middle of a live cricket broadcast from Sabina, they loved it, copied it and injected steroids to eventually spawn the IPL monster. You’re welcome, India.
CRICKETING LIFESTYLE
Twenty-twenty (T20) organised commercially what the West Indies did innately. They ‘bottled’ our cricketing lifestyle, how we played on and off the field, and are selling it to broadcasters for billions. The T20 World Cup being staged this year in the West Indies and United States will generate over a trillion video views from over two billion persons and precedes cricket’s highly anticipated return to the Olympics in 2028. The operational ‘Bible’of standards and specifications used by all World Cup host venues, including the last one staged in India, was an innovation created by us when we hosted the World Cup here in 2007. You’re welcome, ICC.
But we need more than the cricket world’s kind sentiments. A restructuring of world cricket’s financial set-up is badly needed, recognising our hard-earned and undeniable equity. We need special dispensation given our mainly disparate small island states. We need individual nations being able to benefit the way the 96 associate members directly benefit, so that we can unlock national resources in addition to the commercial returns we deserve. I keep asking the question no one will answer. What did Nepal, Papua New Guinea or Oman contribute to world cricket to deserve the global platform of a T20 World Cup over Jamaica, Barbados or Antigua? Cricket West Indies must seize the moment.
The cricket world must pay what we’re owed, and thank us.
You’re welcome.