An exercise in ruthless snubbery

This morning I read that Mahela Jayawardene has signed for Sussex.

"I'm really excited about basing myself down at Hove and playing for Sussex during the first half of the summer."

I believe you, Mahela. Who wouldn't be excited about basing themselves down at Hove for half the summer? Although technically, he will only be available from May 15 until June 19, but I suppose "a month and a bit" doesn't sound as good as "half of the summer".

His capture by the Sussex Snooze demonstrates the lure of the exciting 18-county thrill-fest that is the Natwest Blast, a tournament able to call on the pick of world cricket talent, providing no one else is hosting a T20 competition at the same time. In fact, Mahela is only available because the Caribbean Premier League doesn't start until the middle of June, the East Dulwich Twenty20 Bash has been cancelled, and his dentist had to reschedule that root canal surgery.

But, more importantly, Mahela shouldn't be available in the middle of May. He should be at the IPL. He is part of the IPL furniture, like match-fixing allegations, bewildered cheerleaders and a Danny Morrison-induced migraine.

Admittedly, I can't remember who he played for last season. Come to think of it, I can't remember who he played for in any of the seasons before that. I seem to recall him wearing blue a lot, or it may have been red. Did he play for the Kochi Tuskers? Was there even a team called Kochi Tuskers? You know, they wore purple and orange or some eye-watering combination like that? Maybe I dreamt it.

But the IPL was never about the teams. They haven't been around long enough to have established any identities. The only exceptions are Kings XI Punjab, known for Preity Zinta shouting a lot; Chennai and their legal proceedings, and Delhi, who have got that whole "not being very good" thing going on. But otherwise, they are all pretty bland.

Instead the tournament was based around star players. Tune in to the first edition of the IPL and you'd be guaranteed to see all the big names, along with their big stomachs. The early years were all about late-30-something Test stars wobbling around the outfield in ill-fitting polyester. It was humiliation and entertainment in one, a cricket version of Big Brother.

Yet the fatty veterans are long gone and now the IPL franchises are so focused on winning the thing that they don't care about star attractions. The IPL auction has become a wince-inducing exercise in ruthless snubbery. Mahela is not the only one to suffer. Just take a glance down the list of 2015's discarded, unwanted stars. Kumar Sangakkara: dumped. Hashim Amla? Not interested. Ross Taylor? No thanks. Tillakaratne Dilshan: ignored. Wayne Parnell: don't call us, we'll call you. Muttiah Muralitharan? Not coming back.

These days the IPL turns its noses up at the calibre of players that county chief executives cannot even get to answer their emails. Sussex are excited about signing Mahela for six weeks, but ask the chief executive of the Kerala Number-Krunchers about Mahela Jayawardene and he'll reply, "Mahela who?"

The IPL is no longer in the business of persuading star players to turn up in the hope of grabbing a bit of publicity. They don't need the publicity. Instead the world's best queue up outside IPL Towers like reality television show auditionees, just hoping to get one more chance. ECB, please note: this is what you call a successful T20 tournament.