The Theory Of Mundane Entertainment

Gone are the days when sports catered to the ‘civilized’ tastes of mankind. Sport itself called for a higher order of discipline – that of taming the physical body to meet the demands in mankind’s quest to achieve greater strength and fitness.

The Spartans had laid the foundations for sporting greatness. The city of Sparta was famous and renowned all over the ancient world for the strength, might and the skill of its athletes. While the Greek city of Athens had their intellect and wealth to rely on, Sparta scaled the zenith of its glory only by the perseverance and hard-work it displayed on the athletic field.

The Olympic Games being held now are a sad representation to the original Games which were held in the historical past. The frenzy, splendour and the pyrotechnics may perhaps outdo the ancient Games, nevertheless they were sacred. The sportsmen were worshipped. They were thought to be the reincarnations of the gods themselves. Athletes from different empires, representing different countries all assembled under the watchful eyes of Mt. Olympia to compete with one another in their quest for greater glory. They battled each other for the pride of their nation, and performed under strenuous conditions – the likes of which are only closely resembled by the rugged life of the army.

Back then, sporting might was no mean pushover. A country which could win the Games was always feared for its ruthless and mighty army. Entertainment acquired a religious significance with the arrival of the Games. Gods and goddesses were invoked to favour their athletes, sacrifices were offered, honourable druids were called upon to prepare the best health drink for the sportsmen – all this in a state of fervour and sincere excitement. Mounds of gold and mortal praise were promised be heaped upon the athlete who could return home as a conqueror.

No matter how big the ceremonial hero-welcomes were, and no matter the immeasurable wealth heaped by the world on him, to an athlete’s heart only one thing mattered most. Above everything that he could be rewarded with, and even above all the women that he could have, the sacred Olive Wreath was always the one thing most precious to his heart. It is sometimes worth pondering – How an insignificant branch of Olive, when placed as a crown on an athlete’s head, becomes the most precious possession and a matter of national pride. And yet, that is where the greatness of sports lay in. The reward for hard-work and perseverance, when coupled with honesty and dedication, not lay in that insignificant, humble olive twig but in the precious, deified Olive Wreath that now adorns the proud victor’s head.

But sadly with the changing times, our meaning for sports is getting distorted. That which once shared the same pedestal with religion, is now to satiate the beastly instincts of mankind. Sport has now related itself to all that is most unseemly and most unfortunate; and it has had to bear this blemish from the time when mankind turned it into a mundane form of entertainment. Ever since technology played a greater role in aiding the performance of the athletes, sports has gradually lost its glory. Where previously it used to be a testing ground for the maximum limits of mortal might and power, it has now lost its pride to the growing influence of money and technology in our lives.

The present-day games are therefore a far-cry from the sacred games played in those days. Shoes with golden studs, efficient grips and engineered spikes now adorn the feet of those athletes who once only ran bare-foot. Their feet sang the song of blood, pain and agony and were duly rewarded with glitz and glory. Their bodies ached and suffered, but struggle they did, being egged on by the thirst for victory. What mattered most to them was the sense of fulfilment and accomplishment which they experienced when they were crowned as victors.

Sadly now, sportsmen are paid to perform. This betrayal of sporting spirit will acquire greater significance in the aftermath of the fun-filled, frolicking cricket introduced to the world with the introduction of the IPL (Indian Premier League, just a sad imitation of the thrilling English Premier League). Of course millions have lapped it up greedily. To them, what excites them is the ruthless butchering of the bowlers by marauding batsmen. Cricket boards have drawn up extensive plans to market cricket as a commodity in the public space, and for this they have poured in much money.

Little do they know about the impact their desire for fame and money is bound to have. The consequences of this illogical attempt to draw masses to the cricket stadiums will be manifested only in the days to come. It seems as an irony to note how that people begin to define victory as not the triumph of skills and honesty, but as the result of brutally assaulting the weaker one into submission. Crowds cheer the victor. The media hails him as the conqueror. But sadly they fail to notice another Mr. Skilful rotting into the dust.

Power is welcomed and grace is out. Maybe this is a mirror of our present times. With money buying up everybody’s time, is it not sensible if money even buys up the people’s minds? And yes it is true. It is the hard fact.

If cricket, which once could boast of past-stalwarts like Sir Garfield Sobers, Sir Don Bradman, W.G. Grace, Viv Richards - the ones who played the game in its true spirit, has now been reduced to a brassy game where money and raw power rule the roost, it is a matter of great shame. Cricket was once referred to as the 'Gentleman's Game'. Now, sadly it is being turned into a bull-ring where players with tons of muscles on their bodies charge at each other. It has turned into a game where arrogance and fanaticism is now important, and not grace and healthy camaraderie.

And despite all the disapproval and murmur that are continued to be voiced out against this pawning of sporting greatness, cricket will continue to be commercialized. This will not be the last of their efforts to destroy the golden heritage of cricket. As days go by, men with more ambitious plans will occupy the lofty seats of its governing body. And while their buildings grow taller, and their coffers become heavier; as the stadiums they sell become bigger and the cricketers they market become stronger, cricket will continue its slide into the abyss of commercialization. It can never be expected to redeem itself out of there. Unless and until a true, inspiring leader arises, who will raise cricket back to the place it rightfully belongs.

Until such a time comes, we can have no more of the gracefully entertaining cricket. We can only buy what is marketed. And that, is powerful but mindless commercialization of the game. So sit back and enjoy. The next game is about to begin. The crowd bays for raw blood as another set of bowlers are taken to the cleaners. Is anybody listening?