It makes no sense

The absurdities are everywhere, conspiring to tax your brain when it needs a break. This week, for instance, I’m watching the TV show Sportsmax with Simon Crosskill and Lance Whittaker interviewing a Caribbean cricket expert with the subject being the perennial problem of the decline of West Indies cricket and our dismal international rating. Asked the inevitable “what to do”, Mr Expert says that “the first priority is that our aspiring cricketers should devote themselves to developing the techniques and skills to play Test cricket.” My brain reeled. Previously, the specialist soitgohad acknowledged to Lance that all the young players are being inexorably drawn to the huge sums of money and other perks that flow from T20 cricket today, but here he is now proposing as our salvation that they should turn their backs on that and acquire skills to play a form of the game (Test cricket) where the remunerations are very small. One has to ask why should they be seeking to acquire skills from which they will ultimately gain little or nothing? The suggestion is ludicrous. It is an indication of how vexing the problems are in our cricket, that experts can go on television and make these ridiculous arguments and the notion is taken as a point worthy of discussion when it is patently absurd. To give him his due, Whittaker did make the point that Trinidadian player Keiron Pollard had told him, “In T20 cricket I have the opportunity to set myself financially for life.” But here we are calmly proposing that our professional athletes turn their backs on the money in the short form of the game and play instead “for their country” in the Test arena where the remuneration, not to mention the acclaim, is substantially less. It should be obvious to even the less sophisticated mind that this is a laughable proposition, but we have so-called experts, and even former players, making this proposal with a straight face. Why do we continue to hear this being proposed as a solution to our poor cricket standing? It makes no sense.

On a different matter, we have been regaled in recent weeks in the media with fierce protests over government’s suggestion that the Red House in Kingston, formerly dedicated to the memory of our late President Cheddi Jagan, should be reconfigured to honour all our Presidents instead of just one.

This sounds like a no-brainer. In a time when government is scrambling for the funds to address massive needs (sugar industry, Berbice Bridge, road repairs, utilities development, capital restoration) we have an impressive property, well maintained by the previous government, that is capable of serving as a presidential place of homage for all presidents, regardless of our party. We don’t have to buy any land, hire any contractors, dispose of any debts, or settle any claims. The property is free and clear and ready to go for us to create a unique memorial for this country. What is the basis of the objection? It makes no sense. Is it the colour of the building? If that’s the case, I’m willing to donate 10 gallons of paint in a different shade. Let’s move along, people. We have more important fish to fry.

Those familiar with Georgetown will know of an area on the southeast corner of Lamaha and Main Streets which has been a derelict jungle for years replete with overgrown bush and weeds, untended trees, and matted undergrowth. Made up of several house lots, the area, clearly abandoned, has been an eyesore getting more interwoven as the lack of attention led to ever more brush and dead vegetation and vines. Suddenly, this week, arriving like early Christmas music in the stores, the area has become a beehive of activity with hordes of workers chopping, raking and

trimming through the jungle, and there has been a parade of dumpsters from Cevon’s Waste and from the Government of Guyana (passing by, I counted 9 dumpsters and 3 massive trucks) carting away the refuse.   They’ve been at it for over a week, and the change in the landscape is staggering. It is now a beautiful piece of vacant land, a prime location for building, with some of the trees left standing and the area ready to go. The volume of stuff removed is such that, as I told one of the workers on the site, looking west “one can now see almost all the way to Vreed-en-Hoop.” If you think I’m exaggerating, go look for yourself. It’s so striking that I stopped to satisfy my curiosity and asked the foreman in charge if this was government land. He laughed. “No, sir, this is private land, but the people weren’t looking after it. So government is clearing it out, and we’re sending them the bill. If they don’t pay it, government can take action.” Therefore based on what I saw and was told, we have the equipment and the capability to do this complicated clearing job, and legally we are also entitled to put a lien on the property if the owners refuse to pay the clean-up bill. So here’s my question: that eyesore has been sitting there in the heart of our capital for at least seven years, so why hasn’t this been done before? We had the ability and the equipment as well as the legal grounds; it makes no sense.

One last example from the ever quixotic world of cricket: West Indies are playing Sri Lanka in a 3-game ODI encounter. Sri Lanka is leading 2-0 so they have won the series. It doesn’t matter what happens in the third game, but, guess what, they’re playing it. What is the point?

This kind of nonsense does not occur in any other team sport I know of. It’s only in cricket; singularly in cricket. It makes no sense. Yes, I hear the money argument. The tour has been predicated on three sets of revenue coming from the games so they have to play the third game. Hello. What happens in the World Series in baseball when a team wins four straight? Or in the Stanley Cup in hockey; or in the NBA? When a team wins four games, the series is over so everybody goes home. Never mind how many tickets were sold for the remaining three games; even a 10-year-old child knows it would be pointless to play them, so they don’t; not in cricket.

In cricket, they go back to the hotel, spend a couple days sightseeing, and sure as God made little green sapodillas they trudge back to the stadium to play the meaningless third or fourth or fifth game. And oh yes, there’s the statistics argument; they have to measure the best batter and the best wicket taker and the most number of catches, etcetera; what a stupid argument. It’s a meaningless game, or two or more; which player is going to put out his best, probably injure himself? So the statistical results are obviously tainted, if not totally useless. What is the point? In Test cricket, playing out the series is even more absurd; there you have the players going out not for one meaningless day, but for five consecutive ones, unless nature kindly intervenes and removes the whole absurdity by washing out the game. In cricket, that’s what they do. It makes no sense.