AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

        Cricket's uniqueness as a game lies in its cultured cadence which is at once delightful and different. Its appeal is in the fact that it is a test of skill and character almost simultaneously. Drama unfolds at the cusp of impossible situation and improbable challenge. The plot is multi-dimensional, throwing light into the mind of the performers. Among sporting games, cricket alone has the capacity to hold a mirror to the intricacies of life. It is a microcosm of the society that it belongs to. That is why a C L R James was able to trace and picture the sociological history of the Caribbean islands through the prism of cricket. Football, howsoever universal maybe its appeal, couldn't have afforded him that opportunity. Cricket always provides a canvas to mount something bigger than the obvious picture. That is why it lent itself to sublime verse.

        Alas, the Twenty20, the latest offspring of the avuncular game, seems precisely to rob the quintessence of the game. Cricket's soul lies in its infinite vistas for drama. Twenty20, by its singular fixation for runs (big hits), has reduced cricket's range, cut short its dimensions and made it a kind of slapstick standup comedy. To be sure, it packs in action and athleticism. But it almost seems artificial, lacking the organic flavour of the original. Modern world sets much store by enjoyment and entertainment - the omnibus word 'fun', which is used in every context, encapsulates this credo. The semen of Twenty20 is spermed with this ethos, and cricket's essential DNA is losing its charming double-helix. While spectator entertainment is fine in principle, it should not come by compromising the soul of the game. Twenty20 can be a spectacle, but it can never be a game that involves a contest in its true sense.

        But the worry for the purists is that it looks like Twenty20 has a future. As a learned writer of the game recently wrote: 'It is far less demanding on the spectator: it requires much less patience, engagement, and understanding of the nuances. And it has no history or tradition to intimidate new audiences. Most of all, it is short and something is happening all the time. If you are not burdened with cricket's past and the knowledge of its finer, complex aspects, Twenty20 is pretty good entertainment.' In this era of instant gratification, Twenty20 (this alpha-numeric representation itself is disturbing as well as revealing of its culture) may be the future. The pub-hoppers and the party-goers can gravitate to the stadiums to let their hair down while willows create mayhem all around. But where does it leave the cricket, the real one, the one suffused with culture, tradition and history? Well, what history, can it be smsed?