My dad, not a cricket fan by a long shot, (he does not even know how many players are on each side) was forced (because he was invited by someone from the ‘Sahara’ family. No, not ‘family’ in the way they say it; I meant actually related by blood) to go to an IPL match at the spanking new Subrata Roy Sahara Stadium (on a side-note: the height of cringe is naming a stadium after yourself, and being present for the naming ceremony) near Pune, and he came back gushing about it all: the crowds, the food, the music, the dancing, the atmosphere, the souvenirs, it was all thrilling. He even learnt how to take part in the Mexican wave: he said that they were supposed to get up and raise their hands on signal, just like he joined the crowd in shouting as the bowler started his run-up, and watched the fireworks and music burst on when someone hit a six. He actually said he liked the game now and he is a converted fan of this sport.
Of course, he STILL does not know how many players are on each side and thinks (and this is the funniest part) that cricket is a ‘participative’ sport, where the spectators are as much a part of the game as the players!
And yes, lest I forget, he actually does not remember who the match was between and who won or what the score was, or maybe indeed, even what the game was that he went to watch.
This is not the cricket I grew up watching. This is something new. Something cricket-like, but not cricket. It is now Crickentertainment.
