January 09, 2001
Terms of endearment
Faisal Shariff
Indian cricket is a bit like a duckpond -- a calm and placid exterior, but with lots of busy paddling going on beneath the surface of the waters. Like now. No cricket of any significance is happening -- in fact, in cricketing terms, the next big date on the calendar is January 12, when John Wright returns from vacation, and we get to know what plans he has in mind, aimed at preparing the home team to take on Australia.
But there is plenty of paddling going on beneath the tranquil surface. Lele, for one, is busy trying to untangle a scheduling mess of his own making. And the players, for their part, are busy lobbying for something they have collectively set their hearts on -- namely, a central contract system that turns the players into paid professionals.
The players would like the BCCI to evolve a system of contracts that is loosely modelled on what the England and Wales Cricket Board, and the Australian board, have in place.
Fuelling this demand are the inequities in the existing system. For instance, reserve players get the same amount as the playing eleven. Similarly, and against every canon of natural justice, a player who is injured in course of playing for the country is dumped from the team till he recovers -- without a pennysworth of
compensation in the interim.
These two grouses are long-standing -- and yet, though players talk of it in off-record conversations with friends in the media, they have not, till date, made an up-front bid to bring their dissatisfaction to the notice of the board. For one simple reason -- the minute a player talks of a reserve getting the same pay that he gets, he is portrayed as a malcontent who is out to wreck the 'team spirit' and shatter the unity of the team.
All fourteen players -- so runs the official line -- are equally important to the wellbeing of the side. The counter argument, from the players' side, is equally simple -- in a company, the switchboard operator serves a useful purpose, his or her lack hampers communications, yet he or she is not paid the same as a CEO.
What the players are pushing for now is a system whereby the board picks a core group (14, 16, 20, whatever) of players who, in the opinion of the selectors, will have a role to play in India's international engagements over the entire season. Each player is then given a contract, which stipulates a basic salary, plus a further amount for each match they figure in, plus performance incentives.
As per this system, thus, the base salary will be a smaller figure than what they earn now -- the real money will come from actually getting to play in a game, and from performing well. Which, obviously, gives the players an added incentive to work hard -- firstly, to get into the playing eleven and, once there, to retain their place through solid performances.
Further, suggest the players (and it should be pointed out here that this is being written after speaking to several current Indian players), the base salary should also be fixed on the principle of gradation, with the more experienced players getting a bigger salary than the tyro -- again, following the corporate pattern.
The players muster some interesting arguments in support of their demand.
"India and Pakistan, to my mind are the only two countries where the players are not reimbursed if they are injured and unable to play ,"
points out one player. " Even a country like Zimbabwe , which is struggling for funds, reimbursed Paul Strang when he was injured half-way through the series against India."
How does this help?
" Today," the player explains, "every
time I dive to field a ball or take a catch,
there is fear in my mind that if I injure myself, I' ll be out of the reckoning, I will be out of the team, I lose out on my legitimate earnings. And also, there is the fear that even after I recover, I might not be considered for selection. So, today, if I am injured, I will tend to hide the extent of my injury, rather than risk getting dropped. If, on the other hand, I am assured that injuries sustained in course of doing my duty will not result in loss to me, I will be more prepared to take risks. As per the existing model, there is a sword hanging over our head the whole time. But with a contract, we are sure that we are not left entirely out in the lurch -- and that means we can concentrate on what we are actually supposed to be doing."
Examples to illustrate can be found in plenty. One will suffice, however, to underline the players' argument. Take the case of Sadagopan Ramesh, who was injured in course of India's last tour of Australia. Motivated by the fear of being left in the lurch, he hid the extent of his injury, when a team was picked for the home tour against South Africa. The team planning took into account Ramesh being fit, as he said he was, and opening for the country. Then Andrew Leipus discovered the real extent of the problem, and Ramesh was dropped. By then, it was too late, and the patchwork arrangement of Rahul Dravid opening had to be resorted to. India lost the Bangalore Test, and with it, the series -- the first home defeat in 14 years.
"The advantages of having a regular
pay packet are enormous ," another senior player says. " Maybe the amount might be less than what I am earning now , but I guess I'd swap that for the security that the contract system provides me."
Wouldn't Anil Kumble, now injured and wondering if he can ever make it back, agree?
A contract is a two-way guarantee, argue the players. On one side, contracted players are duty bound to abide by the terms and conditions. For instance, the board today is on a sticky wicket when punishing players for their involvement with bookies. Why? Because they are not contracted employees of the BCCI. Had they been contracted professionals, then the board could have taken punitive action for violation of contract, without the concerned players threatening retaliatory court action. Further, the structure of the contracts puts the premium on performance -- whereas today, a player gets the same amount for scoring a duck and dropping five catches, that he gets for single-handedly winning a game.
Seen from the other side, the contract gives a player security, and self-respect. Today, an injured player has to go begging to the Leles of this world, asking him to reimburse their medical expenses. Put a contract in place, and such worries are done away with.
The players, thus, are all for centralised contracts -- starting from the Ranji levels up to the national side. The board, meanwhile, dithers. It is our understanding that Raj Singh Dungarpur is heartily in favour of speedy implementation of the contract system, as is BCCI president A C Muthiah. On the opposite end, Jagmohan Dalmiya is against the idea. As is his faithful lackey, Jaywant Lele.
The only high profile board member who, at this point in time, has cared to comment is vice president Kamal Morarka. "It is impossible to have a contract system in India," he says. "India has a large pool of players to chose from, a contractual exercise can only end in chaos and heartburn."
One problem, says Morarka, is that players will then have to quit their current jobs. "No player will agree to do that," he argues. "Besides, what do we do if a player loses form?"
Morarka cautions against acting in haste -- which, come to think of it, is a favourite refrain of his. "I think we are just getting excited with the entire wave of new ideas pouring in ," he warns. " We must be careful about how we incorporate this idea, just as we need to be careful of how we allow the corporate world into the cricket fold," he adds, in passing reference to another idea being mooted, namely to privatise domestic cricket in the country.
So what are the pros and cons of a contractual system? What is a good model to go with? We will discuss this aspect, same time, same diary, tomorrow. Meanwhile, to paraphrase Shakespeare, if you have thoughts, prepare to lend them now -- in other words, write in to us with your own ideas and thoughts.
Design: Devyani Chandwarkar
Illustration: Dominic Xavier
Faisal Shariff
Indian cricket is a bit like a duckpond -- a calm and placid exterior, but with lots of busy paddling going on beneath the surface of the waters. Like now. No cricket of any significance is happening -- in fact, in cricketing terms, the next big date on the calendar is January 12, when John Wright returns from vacation, and we get to know what plans he has in mind, aimed at preparing the home team to take on Australia.
But there is plenty of paddling going on beneath the tranquil surface. Lele, for one, is busy trying to untangle a scheduling mess of his own making. And the players, for their part, are busy lobbying for something they have collectively set their hearts on -- namely, a central contract system that turns the players into paid professionals.
The players would like the BCCI to evolve a system of contracts that is loosely modelled on what the England and Wales Cricket Board, and the Australian board, have in place.
Fuelling this demand are the inequities in the existing system. For instance, reserve players get the same amount as the playing eleven. Similarly, and against every canon of natural justice, a player who is injured in course of playing for the country is dumped from the team till he recovers -- without a pennysworth of compensation in the interim.
These two grouses are long-standing -- and yet, though players talk of it in off-record conversations with friends in the media, they have not, till date, made an up-front bid to bring their dissatisfaction to the notice of the board. For one simple reason -- the minute a player talks of a reserve getting the same pay that he gets, he is portrayed as a malcontent who is out to wreck the 'team spirit' and shatter the unity of the team.
All fourteen players -- so runs the official line -- are equally important to the wellbeing of the side. The counter argument, from the players' side, is equally simple -- in a company, the switchboard operator serves a useful purpose, his or her lack hampers communications, yet he or she is not paid the same as a CEO.
What the players are pushing for now is a system whereby the board picks a core group (14, 16, 20, whatever) of players who, in the opinion of the selectors, will have a role to play in India's international engagements over the entire season. Each player is then given a contract, which stipulates a basic salary, plus a further amount for each match they figure in, plus performance incentives.
As per this system, thus, the base salary will be a smaller figure than what they earn now -- the real money will come from actually getting to play in a game, and from performing well. Which, obviously, gives the players an added incentive to work hard -- firstly, to get into the playing eleven and, once there, to retain their place through solid performances.
Further, suggest the players (and it should be pointed out here that this is being written after speaking to several current Indian players), the base salary should also be fixed on the principle of gradation, with the more experienced players getting a bigger salary than the tyro -- again, following the corporate pattern.
The players muster some interesting arguments in support of their demand. "India and Pakistan, to my mind are the only two countries where the players are not reimbursed if they are injured and unable to play ," points out one player. " Even a country like Zimbabwe , which is struggling for funds, reimbursed Paul Strang when he was injured half-way through the series against India."
How does this help?
" Today," the player explains, "every time I dive to field a ball or take a catch, there is fear in my mind that if I injure myself, I' ll be out of the reckoning, I will be out of the team, I lose out on my legitimate earnings. And also, there is the fear that even after I recover, I might not be considered for selection. So, today, if I am injured, I will tend to hide the extent of my injury, rather than risk getting dropped. If, on the other hand, I am assured that injuries sustained in course of doing my duty will not result in loss to me, I will be more prepared to take risks. As per the existing model, there is a sword hanging over our head the whole time. But with a contract, we are sure that we are not left entirely out in the lurch -- and that means we can concentrate on what we are actually supposed to be doing."
Examples to illustrate can be found in plenty. One will suffice, however, to underline the players' argument. Take the case of Sadagopan Ramesh, who was injured in course of India's last tour of Australia. Motivated by the fear of being left in the lurch, he hid the extent of his injury, when a team was picked for the home tour against South Africa. The team planning took into account Ramesh being fit, as he said he was, and opening for the country. Then Andrew Leipus discovered the real extent of the problem, and Ramesh was dropped. By then, it was too late, and the patchwork arrangement of Rahul Dravid opening had to be resorted to. India lost the Bangalore Test, and with it, the series -- the first home defeat in 14 years.
"The advantages of having a regular pay packet are enormous ," another senior player says. " Maybe the amount might be less than what I am earning now , but I guess I'd swap that for the security that the contract system provides me."
Wouldn't Anil Kumble, now injured and wondering if he can ever make it back, agree?
A contract is a two-way guarantee, argue the players. On one side, contracted players are duty bound to abide by the terms and conditions. For instance, the board today is on a sticky wicket when punishing players for their involvement with bookies. Why? Because they are not contracted employees of the BCCI. Had they been contracted professionals, then the board could have taken punitive action for violation of contract, without the concerned players threatening retaliatory court action. Further, the structure of the contracts puts the premium on performance -- whereas today, a player gets the same amount for scoring a duck and dropping five catches, that he gets for single-handedly winning a game.
Seen from the other side, the contract gives a player security, and self-respect. Today, an injured player has to go begging to the Leles of this world, asking him to reimburse their medical expenses. Put a contract in place, and such worries are done away with.
The players, thus, are all for centralised contracts -- starting from the Ranji levels up to the national side. The board, meanwhile, dithers. It is our understanding that Raj Singh Dungarpur is heartily in favour of speedy implementation of the contract system, as is BCCI president A C Muthiah. On the opposite end, Jagmohan Dalmiya is against the idea. As is his faithful lackey, Jaywant Lele.
The only high profile board member who, at this point in time, has cared to comment is vice president Kamal Morarka. "It is impossible to have a contract system in India," he says. "India has a large pool of players to chose from, a contractual exercise can only end in chaos and heartburn."
One problem, says Morarka, is that players will then have to quit their current jobs. "No player will agree to do that," he argues. "Besides, what do we do if a player loses form?"
Morarka cautions against acting in haste -- which, come to think of it, is a favourite refrain of his. "I think we are just getting excited with the entire wave of new ideas pouring in ," he warns. " We must be careful about how we incorporate this idea, just as we need to be careful of how we allow the corporate world into the cricket fold," he adds, in passing reference to another idea being mooted, namely to privatise domestic cricket in the country.
So what are the pros and cons of a contractual system? What is a good model to go with? We will discuss this aspect, same time, same diary, tomorrow. Meanwhile, to paraphrase Shakespeare, if you have thoughts, prepare to lend them now -- in other words, write in to us with your own ideas and thoughts.
Design: Devyani Chandwarkar
Illustration: Dominic Xavier
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