Twenty20: Turning hackers into heroes since 2003

Count them. From David Warner, Graham Napier and Yusuf Pathan, right down to our own Albie Morkel and Tyrone Henderson. What do they have in common?

Instant stardom on the back of the ability to hit a long ball, and not always in the prettiest way possible. Certainly not pretty in the manner of a classic Kallis cover drive or Tendulkar flick.

Even Kallis has altered his game, somewhat.

Never has his Test wicket looked so vulnerable, as he has adopted a more cavalier approach to his overall game. Ladies and gentlemen, that is the power of the IPL.

Warner, not long ago, was a club man watching the hurly-burly of international cricket with his mates. Fast forward a few meaty blows, and he has played for his country in the limited overs formats before he ever got close to a first-class bow for New South Wales.

On the back of last year’s inaugural IPL, Yusuf went from obscurity to surpass his brother Irfan as the bigger Pathan, and with it came a spot in the Indian national team.

Even Morkel was on the fringes of the national set-up before his Indian heroics saw his stock rise to Klusener-esque proportions. Of course you get your freaks of nature, such as Chris Gayle and Virender Sehwag, for whom Twenty20 is just an extension of their mindset and they didn’t even have to alter their game.

But, the Twenty20 craze has been doing this since 2003, when it was launched in England. At that stage it was to boost county coffers, and attract a new crowd.

Suddenly, club bunters with a half-decent eye and a big bat were thrust into the spotlight. The IPL is just the same process, but with a stronger emphasis on profit-making. There is nothing pretty about the IPL, save for the American cheerleaders and their cost-cutting outfits…

But seriously, this fun innovation from six years ago has quickly grown into the biggest threat to the hallowed turf of Test cricket. An illuminating chat with some Indian journalists confirmed this.

“IPL is the future,” one said in his delicious Delhi accent.

“This is where the young players want to be,” said another.

“Why waste years trying to break into the Test side when you can earn just as much fame and fortune in a season of IPL?”

And therein lies the IPL’s biggest threat.

Already we have seen players shunning their countries (Dwayne Bravo) in order to fulfil their IPL obligations. Already we have heard rumblings from others (KP) about the need for national boards to not schedule any tours to clash with this six-week paid vacation.

Adam Gilchrist aired his views on the matter recently.

“It would be sad to see players choose IPL over international cricket because to represent your country should always be the ultimate honour,” Gilly offered.

The problem with that is the sheer volume of income the IPL generates. When Sony signed a $1 billion TV rights deal for ten years, they knew where this was going.

And that, according to my learned Indian friends, is where the money really is at.

“Your grounds are empty, but that does not matter to Modi,” he said.

“This guy has cities named after him back home. If he wanted, he could buy a crowd to fill the stadium to generate an atmosphere.”

Enough said.

This is the same Lalit Modi who offered the significant bait of hosting this tour de six to England and South Africa.

But when Gerald Majola saw R100 million in front of him, he blinked. Modi never even made it to England. And why was that? Well, R100 million equates to about 8 million quid, and I highly doubt the ECB would have even started negotiations that low.

When we now see Modi handing out all sorts of cheques at each game, you then begin to see how much of a pittance R100 million rent charge for eight grounds was.

And his people have not exactly been subtle in their take-over of those grounds.

Hospitality suites, offices and authority supposedly were part of the rental fee, and local employees have been thrown out with all the subtlety of a Bob Mugabe farm invasion.

And already the BCCI, those fine custodians of fair play, have gone back on their decision to ban people playing in the ICL “rebel league”.

The reason?

Those players made a mistake, and they will be granted their international status in a year, and they can join the next IPL. As long as they terminate their contracts. Immediately.

And what of all the other nationalities, some of whom have apparently become invisible since they reneged? Surely where the BCCI goes, the ICC will follow…

The IPL, for all its cash and carnival, is endangering the time-honoured tradition of Test cricket.

Not every player has the values of a Gilly. That is the same guy who used to walk, where some people would stand firm for edges that flew into the slip cordon!

I am sure you have seen the posters pitting international team-mates against each other in the IPL. Soon, I fear, that same slogan will be put to the players around the world. The six week slug-fest of the IPL, and any of the other mooted rival competitions around the world, or, the slog of a year’s international cricket?

Which side are you on?