Bowled over by cricket

Eleven Gods and a Billion Indians

Boria Majumdar

Simon & Schuster

450 pages; Rs 699

Fan fiction is fascinating. These are stories that a book’s devoted fans write, usually by taking different turns at certain plot points from those taken by the author. These can run into many chapters and have enough words to be a full book on their own. The Harry Potter books, which created an entire parallel universe filled with magic and magical creatures, are potent fodder for fan fiction writers. There are more than half a million stories about the Boy Who Lived created by fans who have reimagined the characters and storylines.

But, is there such a thing as fan non-fiction? Can non-fiction — rooted in reality — have enough elbow room to spawn alternative storylines?

The answer may be hidden somewhere in Boria Majumdar’s writing. His new book is a commendable compilation of Indian cricket’s undulating history, with its ups and downs and controversies. However, Mr Majumdar, above and beyond all the wonderful things he is, is a fan of Indian cricketers.

He speaks of fans in the first person plural. To him, “Fans are the only constant loyalty in human life… You can have multiple affairs, a broken marriage, changing tastes of food and clothing, evolving views on politics and economy but a Tendulkar fan at five will remain a Tendulkar fan even at 80.” Not surprisingly, in Mr Majumdar’s writing, you won’t get to see Indian cricketers as mere mortals; they are nearly always seen in the context of their millions of fans around the world.

To be fair to Mr Majumdar, it isn’t easy to write a cricket book in India. The country is infested with self-proclaimed experts on the game, such as this reviewer. What’s worse, they really follow the game and can debate the “what ifs” till it is time for stumps. To write a cricket book that “works”, the writer needs tremendous insight and unprecedented access.

Speaking of access, Mr Majumdar appears to have it in excess. The three pages of acknowledgment in this book can induce jealousy in the most saintly of people who ever held a bat. Mr Majumdar managed to speak to the most important personalities in the game from players (Sachin Tendulkar, Sourav Ganguly, Virat Kohli…) to administrators (Shashank Manohar, Lalit Modi …) to businessmen (Sanjiv Goenka…) to lordships involved with cricket (Justice Lodha, Justice Mudgal…) to sports journalists.

The outcome of all this access is that we get to read about Mr Majumdar celebrating the Indian team’s victories with the players, Mr Majumdar eating biryani with the Indian players, Mr Majumdar getting to hold the World Cup trophy passed on to him by the Player of the Tournament, Mr Majumdar having breakfast with the coach, and several other instances that would give him many a winning post on Facebook.

It is perhaps this proximity to the players and the establishment that makes Mr Majumdar’s narrative less than questioning and more than adulatory. And, when it comes to Tendulkar, whose autobiography Mr Majumdar co-authored, he is reverential (“…the presiding deity of a nationally-unifying religion…”).

If you thought Tendulkar’s farewell Test series was a farce, engineered by the cricket board by inviting the cash-strapped West Indies to play a pointless series so Tendulkar could play his last game in his home town, you will find your views at variance with Mr Majumdar’s. The writer says that when Tendulkar announced his retirement, he, “an embodiment of nationalism and a successful brand of ‘Indian-ness’ for his countrymen, was winning over anti-nationalism mirrored in the spot-fixing investigation”. In a not-so-subtle giveaway, the chapter on Tendulkar’s retirement is called “GOD-BYE”.

When Mr Majumdar writes about episodes that have a bit of a needle in them — such as coach Greg Chappell’s feud with the senior Indian players — he largely withholds the inside stuff he would have gleaned from his unprecedented access. So, Mr Majumdar’s reasoning for why Tendulkar cannot lie — and I’m not saying he does, but merely expecting a rationale — pretty much boils down to this: “Having known Tendulkar well for a decade-and-a-half and having worked with him on the autobiography for close to four years, I find it hard to believe that Tendulkar would have lied…”

But we do not get to know why Tendulkar, as part of a committee along with Ganguly and V V S Laxman, could not resolve the rift between captain Kohli and coach Anil Kumble. We are, however, given the hint that Ram Guha’s resignation from the Committee of Administrators may have something to do with “regional bias”.

That sort of a thing can work well for you as a reader if you are a fan of the author. If you are not, you would find the writing similar to those of journalists who write car reviews. Most of them love cars passionately, and maintain cozy relationships with carmakers. Many direct comparisons between two competing models have ended in honourable draws. In Mr Majumdar’s book, “It may well be that in the Kohli-Kumble tussle, neither was in the wrong.”