IPL2, Pt.1
Though the monsoon is still five months off, it rained last night, powerfully and beautifully, and for the first time I actually needed a sheet while sleeping. This morning it's cool, which is pretty much unconscionable for Chennai, and most welcome to this good-natured-though-climatically-troubled white guy who had three people comment the other day on his prodigious sweat output. This morning also begins the counting of the final round of voting in the much-celebrated general election, and kids are throwing fire-crackers all over the street. This may be because we live down the street from Tamil Nadu's Chief Minister, octogenarian Karunanidhi ('cru-n-n-dy'), who is expected to retain power, but it also may be because fire-crackers are thrown into the street under pretty much any pretext in India.
In an hour I'll tune in for the latest match of the Indian Premier League, or IPL, which is a limited over (short form) cricket tournament taking place from April to June. Ironically, the IPL's current and second season (IPL2) is taking place in South Africa amidst security concerns related to the general elections here in India, the recent attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team in Pakistan, and the attacks in Mumbai last November (known within India as 26/11).
The Chennai Super Kings, followed loyally by every resident of Tamil Nadu (myself included), are based currently out of Durban, though this fact is barely google-able, which hints at how inconsequential it is in fans' eyes. Lion-like, the Super Kings are captained by Mahendra Singh Dhoni, wicket-keeper, current skipper of India's national teams and endorsement-wallah of every product known to India. As you might imagine, he's pretty much the man. Also on the Super Kings' roster is Lakshmipathy Balaji, a home-grown Tamilian bowler who had attracted Jesse's and my adoration the last time around, during the matches against Pakistan in 2004, due to his unique last name which seems appropriate for the right kind of professional athlete, though not necessarily a cricketer. Ballah G has been injured on and off for the last few years, and in IPL2 is struggling to lower his 'Economy', which is analogous to baseball's ERA.
The IPL, which features both Indian and international players, follows the latest, greatest format of cricket, Twenty20, in which a match is accomplished in roughly three hours. Omitting the nitty-gritty of the rules, which are fairly incomprehensible to Americans, I'll say simply that the structure of the game essentially encourages batsmen to swing away, resulting in more home-run-like 'boundary shots' worth four and six runs, and more action, generally speaking. Watching the season's first match from Delhi, I thought I caught sight of a few (white) fans in the stands wearing plastic turban-shaped hats which held nachos and other concessions. [See a previous post, Bhangra Lassi, for a discussion of this readily-exportable symbol of Indian identity in relation to the sardar.]
Falling neatly in line with this charged-up, perhaps-ironic aesthetic, each IPL team has a squad of cheerleaders. Through a combination of gestures on their part, and lascivious camera shots on the network's part, these women manage to achieve an aura of whack sluttiness that makes the NFL version totally prude by comparison. It seems clear that the loose image imputed these cheerleaders is very deliberately cultivated by the powers-that-be: the Bangalore Royal Challengers cheerleading squad, for one, is known officially as the 'Mischief Gals'.
It's impossible to discern cheerleaders' nationalities by watching a match, as the content (and accent) of their cheers is inevitably subdued by the voice-over commentary. For all I know they could be from South Africa or anywhere in the West: they are most often white and blonde but sometimes of black African or (maybe, potentially) partial Indian ancestry. (Recall that many Indians were transplanted to South Africa, northern South America, and other locations in the British Empire during the colonial period.) In any case, cheerleaders are never clearly, recognizably Indian, (nor were they last year, when the IPL was held in India) since to have Indian women behaving in such a way would be totally unacceptable, I guess. In spite of a bit of backlash against the presence or conduct of cheerleaders last year and the Delhi High Court's recent decision to limit the distribution of relevant footage (though this latter move could be more about network rights than moral outrage), it seems they've become a fairly well-enshrined component of the league.
Labels: aura of whack sluttiness, ballah g, nacho turban
posted by Alex Cref at 2:37 pm 
COMMENTS:
Post a Comment