Recently at the first PSL, Ramiz made an error in suggesting Lendl
Simmons had won Man of the Match in a game, where the honour actually
went to Shakib Al Hasan. Which might sound like nothing, but then a few
days later, something else happened.
As Majumder explains, "When Tamim Iqbal came to collect his
Man-of-the-Match award, you told him, 'Tamim: I can't speak your
language. What then? English?' It was unbecoming of a man of your
stature who has been involved in commentary for years."
Now if you are not Asian, or well versed in Asian culture, you need to
understand what suggesting someone may not speak English means - it
means they are not cultured, they are not educated.
According to Ramiz, "That was a very polite introduction to his Man of
the Match award conversation - it was [about] whether he was
comfortable, because I couldn't speak Bengali, and I knew he wouldn't be
comfortable speaking Pashto, because he was playing for Peshawar. So
would English be a good medium?" That might have been what Ramiz thought
it was, but to Bangladeshis, who in part separated from Pakistan over
their language, it was seen as a sly dig.
You also have to understand how cricket productions work. They are not
always completely professional. In this case, no one had checked with
Tamim what language he wanted to speak. There were four languages
involved: Pashto, Urdu, Bengali and English. To complicate matters
further, when the Bangladesh women's team toured Pakistan and India,
they were told not to talk in Hindi or Urdu.
Perhaps it should have been sorted before, perhaps Ramiz should know
what languages Tamim speaks after all these years of his career and as
he had actually interviewed him before. As Majumder wrote:
"It was your duty to do your homework and you get paid for this. Tamim Iqbal is one of the few cricketers in Bangladesh who speaks very good English. He has been playing international cricket for nearly a decade. You, being a commentator, following the Bangladesh team over many matches, should have known this. Or you should not have taken the microphone."
Now he has a point, but also, if we were to stop using cricket
commentators for what they should know, Channel Nine would have a
commentary team of about two people, and a huge percentage of the most
famous ex-players in the world would be out of work.
The autoplays after the scary sweary young Bangladeshi's message for
Ramiz is titled, 'Ramiz Raja mocks Shoaib Malik'. In that video, Malik
walks up to get his cheque for Man of the Match and Ramiz's first
question is, "Urdu or English?"
The problem with this is, it doesn't see how much Bangladesh has grown,
and how much their fans don't want to be seen as a low point for another
side. That is the Bangladesh of five years ago, ten years ago, the easy
beats. Not the Bangladesh of now, the very well put together ODI side
who are building a fortress at home, quarter-finalists in the World cup,
should have beaten India at home. They are many things, but no longer a
low point.
During that series when Shakib Al Hasan and Wahab Riaz stood toe to toe
and abused each other, BDcricketteam.com reported this: "[Ramiz] said
sarcastically that such a day had to come when Bangladesh players were
looking eye to eye with Pakistani players". Whether it was sarcastic or
not, the thought that Shakib, Tamim or Mashrafe Mortaza were not able to
look Pakistani players in the eye angered some in Bangladesh.
And remember this is Ramiz talking about Pakistan. His team, that he is
passionate for. He is upset about where they are going as a team, why
they are failing, and even mentioning that they could learn from
Bangladesh. But that is not enough to distinguish from his anger that
his team cannot beat Bangladesh, and that is what angers them.
Bangladesh was once part of Pakistan. When New Zealand won their first
Test series ever, it was in Dhaka. They fought a war in 1971. Blood was
spilt, the countries were divided. Since then, Pakistan has always been
the better-known country. It has a bigger economy, and in cricket they
have won the World Cup and the World T20. For most of their existence in
cricket, Bangladesh have either not even been a Test nation or been the
Test nation people ignore.
So when a Pakistani commentator disses them, or is seen to diss them, or
even speaks in a way that could be misinterpreted as dissing them, all
that history, all that angst, all those wronged-little-brother feelings
come out.
When asked about the history behind the hate of him, Ramiz said, "It
could be for political reasons, it could be that I am perceived
differently in Bangladesh, it could be that their fans do need to calm
down a little bit." Ramiz might be right there, but suggesting that they
calm down a bit would also upset them.
Although at this stage, everything he says upsets them. They don't want
to calm down, they want to be heard. And the way he talks about them,
with the slight patronising air of a man from a larger cricket nation
(not much different to the way that many Australian players of a certain
age talk about New Zealand) just makes them want to yell longer.
Louder.
Ramiz is pretty blunt when it comes down to it, "If you are hell-bent on
interpreting a very innocent remark like this, then I can't do anything
about it. And god save them."
