Johannesburg – There are a lot of important questions that need to be asked about the Champions League Twenty20. Most of them have to do with shiny, happy things and being a grumpy liker of sport, and rather a good form of entertainment on its own without the razzmatazz.
There are so many questions. If 20-over cricket is such an exciting concept, then why do we need people to tell and show us how excited we should be? Why do we need a DJ called Earthworm at cricket? Oh, wait, sorry, my mistake. His name is Earworm. Oh, well, Earworm is much better. He’s lucky. One assumes Earwax was taken.
Why do we need roving interviewers to pop up in strange places in the stands to interview fans to ask them how incredibly excited they are? “Look, we’re standing on the grass with this crazy guy dressed up like a batsman with a helmet and pads and everything. Why are you here, man?” “Because I like cricket.” “Woohoo!!! Let’s hear it for the guy who likes cricket! Don’t we all like cricket! Right, it’s back to watch the Kolkata Daredevils! Woohoo!” Except that it was the Delhi Daredevils against the Kolkata Knight Riders on Saturday night, but, hey, details, details.
On Sunday night at the Wanderers more questions needed answering. What’s with the dancers? What do they add? Why does the Champions League need social media ambassadors? What does “social media ambassador” mean? The two they introduced to the audience last night were from the local radio station, Highveld 94.7. One was Darren Simpson, the 94.7 morning show host who was wearing a Highveld Lions shirt. The other was Proverb. He had no last name. Strangely, he didn’t look like a Brazilian footballer.
I asked the man sitting in the press box behind me who he was. “You don’t watch much Idols, do you?” was the reply. I don’t. I think it’s cruel to put people on TV to win a competition that will lead them into a career of obscurity and singing in supermarkets. If I wanted to end someone’s career I’d sell them to the EP Kings.
Proverb apparently hosts Idols, unless I was being lied to. He was the Mumbai Indians social media ambassador. No one seemed to have told the Indians, pointed out Simpson, as he was not wearing an Indians shirt. Proverb said “awesome” a lot and tweaked his cap and said “yeah, but …”, his default comeback. Then the organisers gave him a little Indians flag, which Simpson appropriately mocked for being smaller than Sachin Tendulkar.
On Sunday Simpson asked for cheers from the Lions fans, and Proverb asked for “awesome yeahs” or such-like from the Indians fans.
The crowd was split pretty much 50-50. Most of them were tired from shouting and drinking and being all excited. And they were bored. The cricket became a dirge during the afternoon and evening. Gulam Bodi took an age to play himself in. The way he was going he wouldn’t be “in” by next week. Parents rocked kids to sleep by the gentle whoosh of the ball passing Bodi’s bat. Klap it? Slaaptyd, more likely.
Wait. Perhaps that’s it. That’s why they need Earthworms, dancers and social media ambassadors. Twenty-over cricket can be “boring”. It has grown up. It takes concentration. It is no longer a game for the post-literate generation. They need the distractions, the loud music to disguise the boredom. They never warned you about that. – The Star