Spotting the roots of spot-fixing

The raging scandal of spot-fixing, or cricket betting as it is known, may have claimed the scalp of three Pakistani players. But the malaise runs much more deep, particularly in the teams from the subcontinent.

Old-time bookies recall vividly that though there used to be small-time bets on cricket matches in India, it suddenly rose to prominence during the 1983 World Cup. It was the time when indigenous matka, the notorious illegal betting system, was at its peak in Mumbai and other cities like Surat, Ahmedabad, Indore, Kolhapur and Delhi.

During the early days of cricket betting, bookies used the expertise of matka operators. Using their chain of command, they started an organised cricket betting syndicate which, during later years, got bifurcated into small individual networks. A former player and cricket administrator, related to a legendary Indian cricketer, was considered to be the pioneer of the cricket betting ‘business’ in the country.

Cricket betting reached a frenzy when India was playing a do-or-die match against Zimbabwe to stay alive in the World Cup. India lost some early wickets but then Kapil Dev scored a historic 175 not out to save the day. City bookies accepted big bets for that match. Mind you, there were no cellphones or internet in those days, and the punters had to place their bets using landline phones.

And after India won the World Cup, cricket betting had gained a massive foothold in the sub-continent. In a way, one can say that the germ of cricket betting, was first planted in India.

In the years to come, the bug prospered, particularly during the matches between India and Pakistan. Later on, Indian bookies spread their networks to Karachi, Johannesburg and London, where they continued to flourish for several years before enterprising bookies — from other nations — joined the trade.
However, Indian bookies still command supremacy.

After tasting big success, bookies all over the world decided to exploit the game further. And thus match-fixing was ‘born’. The chance came in 1984 when oil-rich Sheikhs decided to host ‘desert cricket’ in Sharjah. The very first encounter saw Sri Lanka take on Pakistan. Karachi-based bookies started accepting bets on session-wise progress of the game.

In order to make their ‘business’ more interesting, bookies introduced new ‘options’, asking people to place bets on game-related aspects like, ‘How many runs will be scored in the first ten overs/first five overs/the very first over?’

‘Predict the number of fours, sixes and singles in an over’, ‘How many wickets would each bowler take?’ ‘Predict the number of ducks, fifties and centuries’. Name a possibility and there was a bet to be waged.

After having ‘exhausted’ all options, some London-based bookies, well-versed with betting techniques of authorised and legal betting giants Ladbrokes, came up with a daring but dangerous spot-betting option. This isn’t possible without player participation.

On paper or screen, spot-fixing may look harmless. Mohammad Asif and Mohammad Aamer, after all, only bowled no-balls. Those deliveries did, in no way, affect the result of the Test match. But what if a player agrees to hit fours and sixes on demand?

What if he loses his wicket in the process? Won’t that change the course of the entire match? And won’t it be suicidal for the game itself?

Punters would bet on the number of runs a batsman would score and bookies offered their stakes. In order to ensure they don’t suffer losses, Pakistani bookies often took their players into confidence so that they performed according to ‘plan’. Playing at a neutral venue served the purpose as they could interact with players rather easily.

It was in Sharjah, again, that the underworld came into the picture. It was no secret that several Pakistani and Indian players enjoyed direct or indirect patronage and hospitality of then Dubai-based don Dawood Ibrahim. No one but “best friend” Javed Miandad had the courage to defy the fugitive.

India were playing Pakistan in the 1986 Sharjah Cup. That was the series when Miandad hit that last-ball six off Chetan Sharma to win it for his country. It is widely believed that bookies used Dawood’s clout to fix the match in India’s favour. What’s more, it was ‘decided’ that the match would go into the final over.

Everything went according to the plan till the very last ball when Miandad ‘spoilt’ the party. “Facing the last ball with five runs needed, the Pakistani in me woke up and I hit the ball with all strength I had,” Miandad had told friends later. Dawood was furious with Miandad —the don was still an Indian national then.

The serial blasts in Mumbai took place much later in 1993 — but the fact that they were thick pals saved the day for Miandad.
However, Indian bookies lost their faith in Miandad for ever. The inspirational batsman, though, remained a favourite of Pakistan-based bookies. It is an open secret that, over the years, the Sharjah Cup became infamous and India finally opted out of the tourney.

The lure of easy money and dreams of becoming millionaires overnight forced certain players to throw caution to the wind. The 2000 match-fixing scandal revealed that it were the seniors — and not rookies — like Hansie Cronje, Mohammed Azharuddin, Manoj Prabhakar and Ajay Jadeja who fell in the trap. Interestingly, Indian law enforcement agencies cracked the case.