OUR CRICKET IS IN THE HANDS OF GODFATHERS
Once again Joy, the better half of Shelton Perera who employed Tommo, a pussycat and Ooty an owl at his Wallside Restaurant and Bar as vermin exterminators had given the two pals the chore of buying groceries for the Perera household. Joy, confident in pussy’s driving skills had trusted him with her Toyota for the job. So that Saturday morning with a list of stuff to buy nestling in the glove compartment of their mistress’s car, the owl wearing sungoggles (he couldn’t stand the glare) and the pussycat puffing on a coffin nail found themselves crawling along Un-parliament Road clogged with traffic.
Cricket news
During a period of a no-goinganywhere on the crowded road Tommo began on a current topic. “I say Ooty, our governors’ cricket, their cricketers and cricket mudalalis are in the news again.”
“Toot,” responded the owl glaring behind his sun glasses at the occupants in another car inches away from the front passenger window. “I read that stuff in the Daily Dodger. Apparently our governors’ cricketers refused to sign the watchamacallit to play cricket for their country.
Our governors’ cricket problems are due to a hell of a lot of fiddling by politiccas and other big cheeses some of who don’t know that a cricket ball is made of leather…that has been the situ for some time
Something about a pay cut and other perks for their wives, girlfriends and ayahs to fly AiryLankan…”
“Meeooowwwha-ha-haa,” cackled pussy. “Wives–cluck head–not girlies and ayahs. And not paid enough? Our governors’ cricketers earn tons of do-re-me by playing around a cherry. Some cricketing celebes from this crowd earn more as brand ambassadors promoting colognes, motor bikes, tooth paste, shirts, condoms, nonfat milk and stuff like that. Their monster SUV wheels and snazzy houses are proof of the buffets they enjoy. But our governors’ cricketers are never satisfied.”
“Thuhoot! Tell me about the ‘won’t sign’ problem.”
“Purshshsh! But, the latest I heard is that problem is no longer problematic. I think the contract inking hiccup has been solved through a ‘ do-it-or-else’ type of motivation from somewhere. You see, our governors’ cricket prob- lems are due to a hell of a lot of fiddling by politiccas and other big cheeses some of who don’t know that a cricket ball is made of leather. Yeah, yeah, that has been the situ for some time now.
Rot, stink and whatnot
“Doctor Grace’s cricket once played by flannelled fools has changed in style of delivery. While Tests trundle along, cow-boy cricket–called ODIs and T20s are in fashion leading to more do-re-me going into the pockets of players and non-players in cricket that’s more a racket. Can you remember the top-notch batters and bowlers caught match-fixing? I am sure such Ali Baba games are still going on behind practice nets. Anyway the general talk has been, and still is, that our governors’ big shots in charge of national cricket and also some gilt-edged players are responsible for the rot in cricket. And money, lots of it, is the root of all the evil between bats, balls and wickets.”
“Thuhooot! But it’s only a game, isn’t it?”
“It was only a game. These days, it’s like a laughing academy short of docs.” “Explain…toot.” “Purshshsh. Most of the geeks handling the country’s cricket from the nominee of the BigHouse by the Lake and a place called Apema Cricket Ltd. are beggars who think a hockey stick is also a bat. Most of those bimbos have had their teeth cut in gambling, racing, paddy marketing, loaning, chicken farming, nursing etc. etc., everything else other than cricket. Importantly the primary aim of these characters who are experts in oiling palms at elections to get into national cricketing committees and boards and what-have-you is raking in money for personal comforts. This shady crowd is responsible in making our governors’ cricket one smelly mess. Sadly, nobody has been able to get rid of the smell because the rotten eggs in the scene are too strong with their brands of rot.”
“Thuhoot! What a bunch to umpire our governors’ cricket. But, Tommo, is Apema Cricket a private affair?”
“Of course not: it’s a national thingy. But this is what happens when politics, politiccas, and their goons peep into places in which they are out of place. It’s also an open secret that ‘senior players’ are also in the show doing Old Pals’ Acts in team selections. The truth is that shady douche bags at the top playing pandu have made our governor’s cricket sick–damn sick. Purrshsh! So when the time came to sign a new contract it was not surprising when the cricketers said, ‘If you want us to perform, we want more; not less’; and the Banghala-deshis are here on tour. Purr, the country, its cricket-loving people and the spirit of the game mean nothing to our cricketers.”
“It’s good they signed finally. If owls played cricket, I would have been proud to play for our clan. Gosh, these cricketing governors should be ashamed of themselves.”
This is what happens when politics, politiccas, and their goons peep into places in which they are out of place
Main attraction
“Meeooww. Our governors’ cricketers, non-playing cricket kings, their knights and waiters have shown that money comes before cricket,” said pussy throwing away his butt.
“Thuhoot! What about our governors who cheer and dance to paprika bands egging their country to win?”
“It’s beyond fans, Ooty. Our cricketers who pad up, measure run-ups, and offer themselves as merchandise at player auctions for the dough are businessmen.
“Thuhoot, suppose they didn’t sign the contracts…
“The selectors would have chosen another lot.”
“Do you think that would have been a good idea?”
It was an honour then
“What else can be done? One lot of gold- diggers will run out of gold if they allow another lot of gold-diggers to hold everyone to ransom. And what would the ordinary governors think? Whether it is Test cricket or cowboy stuff, our governors like to see their country win. In the old cricketing world, I don’t think governors playing cricket for their country were paid a fee. If they were, it must have been a modest allowance. Cricketers in that era were proud to play for their country. They also didn’t cheapen themselves by appearing as brand promoters or in advertisements. Have you ever heard of some of the greatest cricketers in the world like Don Bradman, Len Hutton, Lindwall or Wesley Hall, appearing in marketing ads for after shave for instance?
Thuhoot. So, what do you suggest, know-all?”
A suggestion: (must ask Mr Shelton)
“First playing for the country in any form of cricket should be for the honour and pride in representing the country–not for a hefty fee. Cricket that does not involve one country playing against another, but for prize money should be called professional cricket just like pro-football, golf, boxing and tennis followed as careers by players. Pro cricketers can be in advertising, promoting, modelling or anything else they like. But, there will be a clear line between cricket played between countries and professional cricket. And the two sets of cricketing governors, one lot playing for their country and the other lot playing for money will be lorded over by two gangs of lords.”
“Thuhoot. It’s an original idea. But, who will choose the lords who will do the lording?”
“Purrr. Not through the votes of 2 or 3 governors from here and there in cricket as it happens now. It’s an open secret their votes are bought over by governors who want to call the shots in Sri Lanka cricket. They have earned enough money to buy anybody. Purrrahhhh. Selections must be made through a system of voting by ordinary governors, schools, clubs, districts, associations, committees concerned with cricket. I’ll have to ask Mr Shelton for his ideas also. But one thing, politiccas will NOT be allowed anywhere near cricket or any other game for that matter.…”
“But, you can’t do away with the Sports Ministry, toot!”
“Meeooww, of course, the ministry,” said Pussy stopping the car in front of Limey Melon’s super market. “The minister and the ministry can be like the ceremonial president and his office in the bygone years. On invitation, he can grace cricket matches, smile like hell, shake hands, wish both sides a good game and depart with or without a police escort.”
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