Living to die another day
It's a sign of the times when Jagmohan Dalmiya scrapes through, just 61 votes to 57, in his own backyard, the Cricket Association of Bengal
Anand Vasu
31-Jul-2006
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Dalmiya's serious troubles began two BCCI elections ago, when Ranbir
Singh Mahendra, the candidate he had backed, won an acrimonious election
against
Sharad Pawar, with Dalmiya, the outgoing president, casting as many as
four votes in different capacities. Pawar, one of the big guns in
mainstream national politics, rather than just cricket politics, was so
stung by his first ever election defeat that he brought together every
Dalmiya baiter in the country under one umbrella.
All of a sudden, the Raj Singh Dungarpurs, the IS Bindras, the N
Srinivasans and the Lalit Modis were all together, with one aim,
wresting the BCCI back from the clutches of Dalmiya. And they did that,
with an election campaign planned down to the last detail, removing not
merely Dalmiya, but every one of his loyalists. The BCCI has had its
share of acrimonious elections, but in many ways it used to be an old
boys' club. You fought an election bitterly, but at the end of it shook
hands and got on with life. There was no vendetta or persecution; everyone
knew that boot could be on the other foot next year.
With Pawar's entry into the BCCI, however, a lot changed. It was no old
boys' club anymore. The men whom Dalmiya had kept out of power so well,
for so long, simply felt the hurt too much. And they went after Dalmiya
hammer and tongs. First Dalmiya was banned from attending any meetings
of the board. Next an FIR was filed against him, and others of his team,
alleging financial irregularities. Finally the pressure was applied so
strongly through the political system, that Bengal began to turn against
its own.
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There has been a growing belief within the Cricket Association of
Bengal, and other stakeholders of cricket in the state, that Dalmiya's
mere presence as its head would attract unwanted and unbearable
attention from the BCCI. "What if the Board does not give international
matches to Eden Gardens? Or only gives it a game against one of the
small opposition?" asked one BCCI insider. "You know how it works here.
Suddenly the water supply to the place may get erratic, the permits and
no objection certificates delayed . There are ways the BCCI can hurt
Kolkata, if it wants."
From the outside, it might look like cutting the nose to spite a
mosquito that's settled on it, but everyone, even those who have made a
career out of hating Dalmiya, knows he will not go quietly. Like the
saying goes, when it comes to a street
scrap, it's not so much about the dog in the fight, but the fight in the
dog. And Dalmiya, pushed into a corner - fallen, from being the most
important man in not just Indian cricket but international cricket,
to a virtual non entity - has plenty of fight left in him.
But all this would have been immaterial had he not retained the
presidency of the CAB, for he would not have had a platform from which
to take on the current BCCI regime. In that sense, you cannot
help but admire the man, for few people, if any at all, have ever been
so emphatically up against it. It's widely believed that Dalmiya bit off
more than he could chew when he took on Pawar, but equally, no-one
thinks that the man who slowly but purposely went from an entrant into the
BCCI back in 1979, to treasurer of the state association, then secretary
of the BCCI and finally president of both the BCCI and the ICC, and then
patron of the BCCI, would face a swift end.
Often, people outside India did not quite understand Dalmiya. They could
only see him as a manipulative, greedy, unidimensional administrator who
cared only for the bottom line. He may have been all of that, but he was
also the man who showed India and the world how to make serious money
out of cricket. In India, Dalmiya has been better understood, and in
Kolkata, it seemed just another of the inglorious certainties of cricket
that Dalmiya would be in charge of affairs. That almost changed, but
only almost.
There's an apocryphal story in Indian cricket where Dalmiya replies
to an interviewer's question with his own query, "What will I do if I don't control the
board?" Dalmiya came within a whisker of having to seriously answer that
question, but in typical fashion, somehow put it off. And in the end
that might be all this is - a postponement of the inevitable.
Anand Vasu is assistant editor of Cricinfo