The Day of the Rejects

SEPTEMBER 1999 - Khaled Ahmed summed it best years ago. Writing at the start of another cricket season, he observed that PTV cameramen and directors in charge of cricket coverage seemed to start anew each year, resembling rank amateurs and getting better towards the end of the season, only to miraculously forget it all by the time the next season rolled by. No longer can one even claim that dubious distinction because the cricket coverage that PTV now spews out, sinks lower and lower every year. It is so bad it’s beyond description. When you consider that those gentlemen who are producing this tripe have been at it for the better part of their lives, one can only shudder at the amazing decline in yet another field.

I sat up, wandered around the house and sat up some more, waiting for the Kargil fixture. It was a disaster in Kargil and at the Gaddafi Stadium, it was another disaster. As so often happens when things go wrong, everything fell apart like a cardboard house. Since we have yet to discover a way to drain water out of Gaddafi and instead rely on good luck charms, furtive glances at the sky and the odd bucket and sponge, the match having been abandoned once before, took ages to start. When it did, the game of cricket was long over and what was left was a parody with men in funny gear slipping and sliding and playing in extreme slow motion. Perhaps the organisers did their best under the difficult circumstances – I can’t say, but whatever was beamed out that night by almost 50 people (the credit list at the merciful end wouldn’t come to a stop), was tripe of the highest quality. In the gloom of the Stadium resembling a morgue more than a ground of lights, the PTV cameras blundered about drunkenly. In fits and starts, with jumps and jerks aided by some of the sloppiest direction (lack of it actually), they struggled with the task at hand. The coverage was non-existent, the interviews unintelligible and Allah be praised, they couldn’t even show the Man of the Match ceremony at the end and instead took a grateful nation back to the studios. Mr. Athar Viqar Azim who is the Director Sports should take early retirement or a refresher course for beginners with the BBC or Channel 9. Retirement would be preferable but that would be asking for too much. Those who ended up in the privileged seats posing as cricket commentators and experts should have been tied up in sacks and floated down the Stadium road where I am sure they would have found their way to the Ravi in due course of time. We have all heard some awful cricket commentary in our time, both from PTV and PBC, but what passed that night, was the absolute pits and to call it commentary would be disgracing the word. I think the grave of John Arlott must have been heaving and shaking in convulsions that night. Sorry John, but these people are all well-connected.

Bad commentary has been the scourge of Pakistan for many years. It’s just got worse each year, like everything else. There have been hundreds of letters by angry and frustrated viewers and listeners. Millions of words have been written moaning about what we have had to endure constantly, but the tribe of talent-less ‘broadcasters’ has continued to swell. At the merciful end of the Kagil caper, as the credits rolled on and on, there were some strange names disguised as professional commentators. Who are these people and how in heaven’s name did they ever get into commentary boxes ?

Sometime back, the Minister for Sports (and whatever else he holds these days), Mushahid Hussain asked the Chairman of PTV – he also heads PBC, Pervez Rashid to draw up a list of cricket commentators and restore some order since everybody and his uncle were now established cricket broadcasters. 24 at last count. Everyone, including those who had covered a single one day match, were placed in the prestigious ‘Outstanding’ category, once the reserve of a precious few. A committee was formed with Omer Kureshi as Chairman and Khalid Hasan and Arif Abbasi as members, but only after Omer was assured that the recommendations of the committee would be final and implemented immediately. This commitment, like most made here, was broken almost before the ink was dry. The committee after great deliberation, divided the cricket commentators into three categories: In the ‘Outstanding’ category (English) went Iftikhar Ahmed, Chisty Mujahid, Shahzad Humayun and Omer Kureshi. In Urdu, Munir Hussain and Hassan Jalil. In the ‘A’ category (English), the committee placed Tariq Rahim and Rehan Nawaz. In Urdu, Hameed Akhtar, Raja Asad and Mirza Islam Baig. The list and a sort of reserve ‘B’ category had Brig. ® Pervez Asghar Mian (who loves the game but shouldn’t be speaking about it) and Mohammad Idrees. Everyone else was thrown out including Zakir Hussain Syed, Ehtesham ul Haq, A.R. Zaidi and other equally ‘gifted professionals’ . The committee while presenting the final list to Anwar Mahmood, DG Radio Pakistan and PTV declared that only those in the ‘Outstanding’ category would, from now on, tour abroad and also cover test matches within Pakistan. If not available, PBC/PTV could select from Category ‘A’.

As usual, sycophancy won the day. The four ‘spoons’ chosen for Pakistan’s tour to India in February 1999 contained no one from the ‘Outstanding’ category. In fact, one gent, an outright reject, happily made it too. For the Bangla Desh tour and later the Sharjah Cup, the same pattern was repeated by PBC and PTV. By the time the World Cup arrived, the rejects were out in full force. Raja Asad and Ehtesham ul Haq even flew to UK and back just to cover two matches, of course in their predictably awful style. On the Kargil night, the whole caboodle of discards was in full swing, with Brig. Pingo thrown in for good measure. As this lot, numbering half a dozen or more of the most ill-deserving types murdered the air waves, the game and the language, the viewers were reduced to tears and general gnashing of teeth. As always, those least deserving have made it and those who should be doing the job are out in the cold. Incompetence reigns supreme as do flattery, sycophancy and intrigues. In a way all this is so appropriate - the very essence of what is Pakistan today.