It is a little difficult to believe that this strange innovation originated in the mind of a cricketer like Greg Chappell. But then if one thinks a bit more, perhaps it is not so much out of line with his character. Even a man like the BBC veteran Brian Johnston, when writing about Chappell's career, cannot help but first recall the one glaring aberration -- that underarm ball delivered by his brother, Trevor, on Greg's instructions. So perhaps it is not so surprising after all that Greg came up with the game called Super Eights.
There are some things which are best left alone. Some things which cannot be improved upon. The game of cricket, to a large extent, falls into this category. There have been all kinds of changes and most of them have made the game poorer rather than richer. The growth of the game into an industry could not be helped; once that happened, there was a need to make it profitable. Once that happened, people were not content. No, they wanted to squeeze out more and more; something like trying to get milk out of a dry cow.
Hence, aberrations like the Hong Kong Sixes and the Super Eights. They look like mainstream cricket, the people who lend themselves to such an exercise are so-called professionals, the TV commentators are the same, the hype is similar, but there are changes here and there to make the game more exciting. Shorter and shorter games, something like the quickfix which the heroin addict seeks after he has come to the stage when his hand shakes so much that he cannot inject the drug into his veins.
Notice one more constant about these tournaments -- they are always held in some country which is striving to gain acceptance in the big league. Hong King, Malaysia, Singapore -- something like the man who tries to buy a title in order that he can become a member of the country club where those who came by their titles by birth are languishing for want of ready cash to even buy a drink.
Of course, the retired cricketers who come out in ties and suits (Tony Greig even wears a straw hat) to give these games a touch of respectability have their stock-in-trade excuse -- they are contracted to a TV channel and they have to go whither their master pleases. Were they to be honest about the games which they have to watch, their contracts would probabl not be renewed. They have become as greedy as the administrators themselves, perhaps even more. One very famous cricketer, it must be remembered, was more than willing to watch the 1992 World Cup on TV rather than at the grounds; he was offered much more by a TV channel in the Far East compared to what an Australian magnate was willing to pay him for watching the matches at the venues. As the joke goes, the fact that people are willing to sell themselves is not in question; the amount for which they would do so is the only unknown.
Why don't we have a game called Ordinary Threes? Three to a side, three umpires as well (one does the wicket-keeping and they takes turns doing it), three overs each (there are already three wickets at each end so one doesn't have to bother about gimmicks there but they could be painted in three colours), three runs if the ball crosses the 15-yard circle and 13 if it sails over the boundary (this game is not for the superstitious). It could be hosted by the Honduran Cricket Association; one hears that that is one part of the world where the game is not popular.
High Fives is another possibility. Yes, you guessed right, five to a side, but only two umpires. Five runs if the ball rolls over the ropes, 10 if it sails over and 15 for the man who can hit it into the road next to the stadium (if there is a main thoroughfare and a side street, one could count 15 for the main road and 12 for the side street) and 25 if one hits a traffic light on either road. That's why it's called High Fives. Any player who can hit the ball so that it dislodges a spectator from his seat (either in the stadium or its surroundings) will be rewarded with a television contract for the next tournament. The ideal venue is Egypt. With luck one may even knock down a few buildings and save so many people from a horrible fate when the next quake comes along there.
There are even more variations. Oil Cricket is a game where the players wear the minimum of clothing and are liberally coated with oil. This is played in an indoor stadium. The more players to a side the better. The idea is to catch the batsmen when he goes for a run and hold on to him until somebody throws the wickets down. The oil provides the fun. The team which scores the most runs will win here too; additionally, they will get a year's supply of cooking oil, two years's supply of petrol and some diesel thrown in as well. Venues could be Iraq or Libya. This, one feels, will be an extremely popular sport. The umpires could be clothed in plastic.
Why hasn't anybody thought of nines? The games all start at 9am and go on till 9pm. Nine players to a side, one from each Test-playing country. Nine overs apiece; nine wickets as well. Anybody who gets to ninety-nine has to retire (how many will is open to doubt, but this is one more variation to make the game exciting). One has to avoid all nines while batting; any batsman who reaches nine, 18 or 27 -- any number of combination of numbers that adds uip to nine -- is automatically out. Each bowler gets nine balls; three can be bowled underarm. trevor Chappel will provide free coaching.
There are hundreds more. I can think of a variation which takes in some aspects of mud wrestling, another which brings in snake dancing and yet another which would involve Demi Moore and Elizabeth Hurley. The rationale is the same: take the money and run. Our administrators won't admit it but then we all have to be "nice" gentlemen in what is said to be a gentleman's game. I'm available for consultation to the highest bidder, boys.