IPL: Where's the accountability?

Whenever there is any reference to match or spot-fixing in cricket, all the BCCI officials stand up in unison, and start singing the BCCI anthem —see no evil, do no evil, hear no evil — it is so theatrical.

The parliamentary affairs minister (read Rajiv Shukla), who is hardly seen in Parliament, is the first to rubbish the allegations, and goes on to give to anybody who cares to listen, homilies about not getting swayed by hearsay, and seeks to deflect the core issue by appointing some committee to probe the allegations. And, suddenly we have heavyweight politicians, who are all associated with some cricket association or the other, jumping into the fray and helping to obfuscate issues.

Which begs the question: Is there any accountability in the system of administering cricket in India? The answer is NO.

There is nothing new about the IPL mess. The league has spawned a deeper mess. Today, we do not know what to do with the surfeit of money that has come into cricket. Cricket’s commercialisation has brought in money, and this money in turn, has brought in politicians, of all hues and, across party lines.

Normally all these politicians try to put the opposite party on the mat, on all matters relating to corruption, but are remarkably coy and understanding, when it comes to cricket.

The sports minister cannot even pilot an important bill to regulate sports bodies in India. The BCCI simply refuses to come under the ambit of national sports federation, despite milking the government for various favours, including I-T exemptions, using the name India, getting Padma Shri, etc. Is it any surprise that we do not often see the parliamentary affairs minister in Parliament, but see him in practically every frame of IPL, every evening.

Look at every state association. Who is jostling for power? They are either the industrialists, heavyweight politicians or their minions, the bureaucrats/police officers. The reason is star and money power which is a compelling proposition for many in political class. Life in Parliament, for these bigwigs, is quite a dreary thing as compared to sharing the fizz with cricketers and industrialists through cricket.

There is an open competition to pocket as much money as possible. The heads on which money is spent is pretty much the same year after year. Like the heads, the contractors are the same, with each contractor being aligned with a particular bigwig in the association. There is a quid pro quo in practically everything.

I have been incessantly fighting against all this malaise in Delhi cricket. Even an open and shut case that the Delhi Police has against DDCA office bearers is moving at snail’s pace despite my constant reminders and meetings with officers including the commissioner.

The youngsters who aspire to play for the country have to manage money to be paid to louts and touts. I feel sad when parents come to me and other ex-cricketers to advise their children to stop playing cricket, quite simply because they cannot fund the various cash requirements of touts and some secretaries, particularly those belonging to institutional clubs.

I look back at my time, when I simply cycled down to Delhi’s National Stadium every afternoon, and intently practised what our coach, the legendary Gurcharan Singh, used to teach us. “Cricket is like your mother, respect her”.

I wish I could help in turning back the clock. Life was simple and one could get into various age-group teams on merit. Can that happen today? That’s a million-dollar question, literally. Is it not?

(The writer is an MP and a former India cricketer)