So much for the spectator’s sport

March 6, 2022

Just what do the PSL and Sports Capitalism have in common?

When the roads are blocked or choked, the locomotion of nearby residents is restricted, how does the common man function?  — Photo by Rahat Dar
When the roads are blocked or choked, the locomotion of nearby residents is restricted, how does the common man function? — Photo by Rahat Dar


I

It won’t be an exaggeration to say that the past two weeks have been the most riotous for the people of Lahore. We saw president-level security for the visiting cricket teams, the roads were packed beyond capacity at any given time of the day, and the Gaddafi Stadium was brimming over with enthusiastic spectators throughout the PSL tournament.

Yes, there was a lot of thrill and fun for the nation in this. And it is fair to say that in a matter of just a few years, the PSL has emerged as an elite cricket league to speak of. This year, it came at a time when the people deserved a much-needed escape from the socio-economic pressures and the drudgery these pressures bring with them.

On the other hand, the tournament has helped the state in so many ways — by presenting the country’s ‘soft’ and positive image on a global front, and ‘proving’ to the world that we are indeed a peaceful and (shall I say) terrorism-free country.

Such huge leagues do not materialise without heavy investments that largely come from sponsorships. The PSL, this year, is reported to have made record-breaking profits — each franchise took home Rs 900 million. The winning team walked away with Rs 80 million in cash prize and Rs 35 million went to the runners-up. The brand value of PSL has risen to Rs 1.3 million, where it used to be merely Rs 75,000 in the first edition of the PSL.

On top of it, the tournament this year ended on a good note, and a lot of positive feedback was received from around the world, with words of appreciation coming in from cricketing giants like Michael Vaughan.

The fun and merits of the league aside, the interests of the capitalists (in the league) are more than obvious from the deluge of advertisements. There is heavy bombardment of brands wherever you look — be it inside the stadium, on the SMD screens installed at different parts of the main roads of the city, or on your television and mobile screens. The players themselves have become the walking and talking advertisements — they wear brands’ logos on their shirt sleeves, to put it proverbially.

Watching the matches on TV has become quite unbearable, what with the stream of commercials that starts to run after every over is played. Holographic ads of a chocolate brand occupying a major part of your telly screen is perhaps the most annoying aspect of it all. Then there are mini advertisements, in the form of little banners under the scorecards.

It’s not the number of sold tickets that make a league successful (though they are very important in understanding the graph of their popularity). The success largely depends on the interest of the capitalists who make or break it; not to forget the fact that such entertainment activities serve only the capitalists and investors and do not really contribute to the growth of the national economy.

There is yet another side to this league which calls for serious reflection. In our high inflation-stricken country, the working class, which is at constant risk of being food insecure and has never been treated as first-class citizens, suffers the most during such high-profile tournaments. When the roads are blocked or choked, the locomotion of nearby residents is restricted, how does the common man function? Arrangements that serve the capitalists’ interests and ignore the peace of the citizens, especially the working class, must be taken into account by the state before such mega events are held.

Since such sport leagues have now become a global phenomenon, the only viable solution for a developing country like us is to accommodate the players (who are after all a security concern) in suits that should be built within the host city’s sports complex.


The writer has done BS Hons in English literature from the University of the Punjab

So much for the spectator’s sport