One of the oldest and best known laws of economics is called the law of diminishing marginal utility. It says that the more you have of something, the less likely you are to want some more of it. Obvious though it may sound, it is extraordinary how often businessmen fail to grasp its validity. The latest example of such incomprehension can be seen in the fourth edition of the Indian Premier League. It came after the World Cup, and it had too many matches, 74 in all. As a result, even cricket-crazy Indians, when they tuned on the TV, tuned off the game. Except for the final, the rest of the games were indistinguishable from one another. Also, because of the reshuffle of the players, loyalty to the team became diluted. The wickets were too slow, so the T-20 format did not yield the singular thrill it was intended for: high-scoring matches. There were only a handful of high points and the weather was too hot. All in all, even though the BCCI made money by collecting upfront and the sponsors were happy if a couple of millions watched even for 15 minutes, the game itself has suffered a blow because of the overdose. The BCCI should, if it has the long-term interest of the game at heart, review its policy, not least because many top players have also taken a severe knock in the form of injuries and over-work.
Indeed, the latter has led to half a dozen of the top players choosing to rest rather than represent India in the tour to the West Indies. This has led to a debate dubbed as ‘club or country', and some extreme views have been proffered. One is that of Sunil Gavaskar, who says these players should be dropped from all future tours. The other is that of Kapil Dev, who says players are entitled to choose. Mr Gavaskar's anger is shared by many Indians who feel that cricket is unique, for several reasons. One of these is the fact that it is the only game in which international tournaments are held on a regular basis, thus keeping the nationalist element fresh and sharp. No other game sees such regular engagements between countries. For South Asians, cricket is war by other means and it is not at all like European football or American baseball. Fan loyalties are national — and only national here. This does not mean cricket of the Twenty20 kind should not be encouraged; but it does mean that for players who represent the national team, a clear set of priorities must be established so that they do not enter into contracts that put the national part at a disadvantage.
But here we run into the Barber's Paradox. It says that if there is a village in which the barber shaves only those who don't shave themselves, who shaves the barber when he performs the service on himself? It ought to be the barber. But then it can't be because by definition he is a barber only when he doesn't shave himself. The BCCI is in a similar situation. It is at once the custodian of cricket in India and also a plain corporate entity, mindful of the need to maximise revenues. The BCCI alone can take corrective action but, in doing so, will lose a lot of money. So, what can force the BCCI to take corrective action? Until this is answered, cricket fans will continue to be slighted by the BCCI and the players alike.
Though the BCCI made money and the sponsors were happy if a few millions watched, the game itself has suffered because of the overdose.