Does IPL deserve an international window?

It is an awful and fanciful patronising myth to suggest that cricket was first developed on the 'genteel' village greens of England. That's pure nonsense.

In some cases it was played in areas such as not so refined churchyards; and frowned on because some of the youth of that time preferred it to perfecting skills in archery.

As if to prove a point, although it wasn't played by the Irish at the time, it was banned in Ireland in 1656 by Oliver Cromwell where the 'implements were burned by the common hangman.'

All this of course a century before Hambledon, Broadha'penny Down and a number of boozy pals of the peerage pulled together a set of laws; one of which allowed a batsman to charge down a fielder trying to take a catch. Imagine that taking place today.

Mind you, the way the Indian Premier League is being run, the league's commissioner, Lalit Modi, might try and attempt the trick of rewriting the laws as well about floodlight failure and new Duckworth/Lewis formula favouring franchise owner Shar Rhuk Khan and the Kolkata Knight Riders.

Another myth by British-based scribes is the suggestion how those running the game are more interested in its history that its future. If this was the case it wouldn't have survived Cromwell's edict 352 years ago. But that is the way such rustic minded patronising types like to think.

As stylish opening batsman Barry Richards ascribed in an interview in 1982, each generation, each decade – or each year as is now the case – adds to the sport's development. It is why it has a fascinating mystery about its culture.

If not, there would have been no Kerry Packer and the marketing of the floodlit venture with its white balls (soon, maybe, replaced by a pink variety).

More seriously though, Richards, as have others more involved as players swelling bank balances out of their IPL exercises, also ponder whether the International Cricket Council should make a window for this gimmick.

It has variously been called the gravy train, the new fast food (at a hefty price at venues it seems say friends in New Delhi and Kolkata), and the new mercenary game. It is anything but a professional image.

Yet there are times when looking back on this year that the new century is trying to catch up with itself. That, as in the case of Packer's revolution, the sport is modernising itself with a new look with the T20 format.

For someone brought up in a society where as a prepubescent going to watch a Test (March 1946), was a major event, and the game was played in white flannels and the ball was red, the march of time is all too evident.

The sight of gyrating beauties might appeal to affluent Bollywood types and some non-Bollywood oligarchs; even to the extent of pushing decibels higher than your average ghetto blaster pumping overtime. What it does explain is a lot of what is wrong with some of the marketing used.

Most of this is to advertise coming Bollywood films, or focusing on the franchise owners and their facial expressions when their teams are not doing well.