Pursuits: The truth is that sport today is all about television

All of India is currently in a massive state of excitement over Formula 1.

The first event is due to be held on the outskirts of Delhi and already the excitement is approaching T20 cricket levels.

 

   What I find interesting about the mass hysteria is that it is not based on ignorance or hype. People are surprisingly knowledgeable about Formula 1, about the teams, and about the drivers. When Lewis Hamilton visited Bangalore a few weeks ago, he said he was overwhelmed by both the public response and the extent to which Indians had been following his career.

 

   As you probably know, there has never been a major Formula 1 race in India before. Even a decade ago, most educated Indians had no idea what Formula 1 was. They could not tell the difference between racing at this level and rallying. Worse still, there were class connotations. In the early 1980s, George Fernandes and his supporters took pride in disrupting a Himalayan rally on the grounds that it represented an elitist activity.

 

   So, what’s made the difference?

 

   In a word: television.

 

   The reason why a new generation of Indians is so knowledgeable about Formula 1 and worships the likes of Lewis Hamilton or Michael Schumacher is because they can follow the races on television. It does not matter if the races are being organised thousands of miles away, television brings them into our homes.

 

   So it is with football. For years and years, football remained a second-class sport in India. Oh yes, there were parts of the country where football had its adherents. They loved the sport in Goa and in Bengal, the state was divided between the loyalists of such teams as Mohun Bagan, East Bengal and Mohammedan Sporting. But the truth was that the rest of India did not care very much. Footballers remained heroes in their own mohallas or paras, never earning really big bucks. Moreover, though it breaks the heart of every Bengali to hear this, the standard of Indian football was pathetically low. Any English fourth-division side could beat Mohun Bagan and East Bengal in a single afternoon and then head off to the pub for an evening of fun and games.

 

   Mohun Bagan and the rest still remain second-raters but football has found a new popularity in India. Ask anyone under 20 about the football scene and he will know the details of Manchester United’s performance this season. He will tell you what Wayne Rooney’s form is like. And he may even wonder why Ryan Giggs can’t keep his pants zipped.

 

   The difference once again is television. When Rupert Murdoch bought the rights to English football, he invented the Premiership as a global sporting event and broadcast it on all his channels throughout the world. In the process, he made football a global phenomenon and introduced the sport to new markets where it had meant nothing before TV.

 

"Young people begin to see sport on par with TV shows. They lose the thrill of seeing sportsmen actually perform in front of them."

   The irony is that many young Indian football fans have never seen a football match in their lives. Nor will they bother to go and see Mohun Bagan play. They are quite content to treat the sport as a TV spectacle and to support United, Chelsea, Arsenal or Real Madrid from a distance.

 

   Let’s take another, more down-market, example. Professional wrestling has always been rigged all over the world. Till the 70s, each area would have its own promoters and its own champions. In the US, you had the likes of Bruno Sammartino. In the UK, you had Les Kellet or Giant Haystacks. In India, you had Dara Singh. The bouts were fixed and the champions depended less on real wrestling ability and more on star power. In the 1980s, a man called Vince McMahon decided to turn wrestling into a global spectacle. His World Wrestling Federation (WWF) cornered all the TV contracts and created national champions in the US. As professional wrestling became a ratings winner, fans lost interest in local promoters and their live events. When the local promoters went bust, the WWF emerged as the undisputed champion of the American wrestling scene.

 

   By the 90s, the WWF had taken its TV spectaculars global. Because of the reach of satellite television, McMahon was able to beam his matches into the drawing rooms of people all over the world. In the process, he wiped out British wrestling, Indian wrestling and national promoters all over the world. The ‘sport’ now became an all-American affair that the rest of the world followed on TV.

 

   We sometimes forget how much television has altered the nature of all sport. When Kerry Packer introduced one-day cricket in the late 70s, purists said it was a gimmick and that it could never last. They may have been right were it not for TV. Because television likes compact events and has no patience with five-day Test matches, the best ratings were garnered by one-day matches. And so, naturally, the advertising money moved to one-days from Tests.

 

   Now, such innovations as 20-over cricket are designed specifically for television. Of course, cricket remains a real sport (unlike wrestling) but it has also fallen victim to the demands of TV audiences.

 

   The truth is that sport today is all about television. The advantage is that sportsmen make more money and that sporting events reach vast audiences all over the world. So a man who has never ever seen a Formula 1 car, let alone a Grand Prix, can tell you exactly what this week’s rankings are.

 

   The disadvantage is that sport is more like showbiz and that it is largely Western-dominated. Local sporting events find it difficult to attract audiences. (Will Mohun Bagan still be around a generation from now?) Young people begin to see sport on par with TV shows. They lose the thrill of seeing sportsmen actually perform in front of them.

 

   It is pointless deciding whether the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. In our technology-driven world, television will remain king. And sport will remain one of its colonies.