And why politics, sanskriti and some good ol’ blame game’s never far from the pitch

The most strategic play of the whole Raj era was not the decimation of Indian resources and riches — sure that happened too — but how we came to own the English language. Twisting and contorting it as we liked, destroying it for everything it stood for, so much so that today the British, too, have been brought to their knees with regards to its usage. But it wasn’t an entire loss: for even as they exited, the British left us enslaved to a sport that would ruin the very fabric of our future for eons to come. Cricket!

The English never invented cricket as a sport. Hell no. How can a country where the weather is the worst thing devise a game that requires a full day of rain-free, sun-kissed weather? It was always intended to be a way to rot strong regimes from the inside out. Here are five reasons why Indians have embraced this “madness for the masses” tighter than the relatives of a very rich person who has been given six months to live.

Team Blame: Cricket is not a team sport. It is a team blame sport. When you lose, it is all 11 at fault. Or why stop there, throw in the coach, the physio, the extras, even the bloody water boy. But the brand contracts are always individually signed. It’s like getting all the cream but none of the fat issues. Lovely!

Organised nationalism: I am always scared to admit that I loathe cricket for fear of charges of sedition being levelled against me. An Indo-Pak match has all the fuel, fire and fervour of the Balakot strikes and none of the ambiguity. Elections can be won and lost over a solid five-day test match; that’s how powerful this game is. The only downside, a good cricket tournament can cost just as much as an election campaign. The upside, a smart punter will recover it all with one good bet.

Sanskriti 110%: Unlike those lawn tennis players, prancing about in their shorts and fancy mini-skirts, no cricketer gets out there without being fully covered up. Also, it is a game mostly played by men and watched by more men. (Though women are matching up, very few find any reason to venture out of home for a five-day test.) This is the game theory of enforcing archaic Indian traditions without having to exert any social pressure whatsoever.

Sportspersons minus athleticism: Just like with chess, you can be a cricketing star and yet need look anything like an athlete. No need for the quick reflexes of a boxer, or the endurance of a marathon runner. Unlike swimming, you can play on a full stomach, so there is no need to rule out the butter chicken, both post and pre game. You can have a rotund shape and be called a sportsperson and, most pertinent, make more money than those sinewy masochists who dash a 100 metres or break their backs wrestling and what not. Indian cricketers may have gotten better, but the last time one took his T-shirt off, I think they fined him for exposing his puny torso.

After (sports) life: Do you know what athletes do once they retire? Most try and invest their earnings wisely to pay for all the hospital bills to cope with the injuries they endured during their careers. A cricketer, by contrast, either turns commentator, TV show host, or best yet, a politician. An administrator of our motherland. The same guy who couldn’t hold it together on a field with 10 of his peer group can now get to call the shots to decide the survival of a few million. Along with golf, this is the only career that gets more rewarding as you grow older.

This column is for anyone who gives an existential toss.