Why Ramiz gets Bangladesh's goat
The YouTube video is titled " It starts with a clip from a post-match press conference wher is speaking to and then it transitions to a young man sitting in front of his computer. The young man starts talking.
"Hi guys, it is regarding about Ramiz Raja, he was taking the interview of Tamim Iqbal yesterday."
The young man is very focused, very serious, staring straight down the
lens. He talks about the interview, and why it bothers him, and then
says "Are you f*****g blind, or are you not watching? I don't know, I
don't understand, do you have an issue with Bangladesh, or are you just
jealous about Bangladesh? Stop doing it, mate. Don't be f*****g daft,
don't be f*****g blind, mate. Stop doing it."
Then he disappears and Dr Dre's "The Next Episode" starts playing.
There is no cricket fan who doesn't get frustrated at cricket
commentators. We spend so much time with them, and it's impossible to
like all of them. It might be their voice, their intonation, their
accent, their words, their phraseology, their outlook, their biases,
their alleged biases, their knowledge, their playing style, their
tweeting style, to name but a fraction of the reasons.
There is also the quality of cricket commentary. It would he hard to
suggest we are in a golden age, or even a bronze age. At best, it's a
beige age. Cricket broadcasters don't scour the globe looking for the
best and the brightest; they hire ex-players who are famous and put them
in front of a microphone. The very, very worst usually don't survive.
The very best become household names.
Most fall in the middle ground. They wait anxiously for the call from
producers around the world. They have to satisfy production companies,
broadcasters, and ever increasingly, cricket boards. It means that they
have to be safe, middling by nature. They are often booked at the last
minute, they are well compensated, but unless they have a lucrative home
board contract, chances are they don't feel secure.
As many are ex-players, they do not do the kind of research a broadcast
professional or journalist would, or at least should, do. Off air they
often say things like, "I know cricket, so I don't have to follow it."
Increasingly they are listened to by knowledgeable fans who often know
more about the player than the commentator. The frustration brims as
the commentator says something wrong. And now with Twitter, there are
instant and constant corrections.
It is a hard job, often done poorly.
But most people just don't take commentators that seriously. They have
become the background noise of cricket, rather than the voice of god
they once were. There are now also more options to listen to. White
Line Wireless and Guerilla Cricket ofter alternative commentary. There
is also usually a radio or tune-in broadcast that you can sync with your
TV. Chances are, cricket will never have another John Arlott or Richie
Benaud as the game's voice.
So with all that, imagine that one commentator was so hated that news
stations rerun his commentary to highlight how bad he is, that cricket
journalists pen open letters about his behaviour and people burn
effigies of him in the street.
Now imagine this man is the well-coiffed slick package of Ramiz Raja.
For most cricket fans, a harmless commentator who can occasionally
gaffe. To Bangladeshis, the enemy.
"We dont want Ramiz Raza as a commentator during Bangladesh match in
Worldcup Cricket 2015" says the title of the petition. They wanted 1000
people to sign, but ended with only 352. Though not having it also in
Bengali might have limited its reach. One of the comments, from 'Name
not displayed', says, "His comments is hurting so many peoples hearts".
If it were just fans, it would be one thing; it is far more than that.
An open letter was written by Azad Majumder, the sports editor of the Daily New Age
in Bangladesh, for the cricket website Cricwizz. His letter lists what
are essentially the main concerns of Bangladesh fans. "I know you are
not a great fan of the Bangladesh cricket team," says Majumder. "For
years you have ridiculed Bangladeshi players knowingly or unknowingly."
He then goes on to mention the of the 2015 World Cup.
And this is an important game. It was the first time Afghanistan ever
made it to the World Cup. They were rightly feted for making it, and for
existing in the first place. Almost everyone who watched that game as a
neutral wanted Afghanistan to win. It was a party in their honour.
Ramiz was probably no different. Majumder writes, "From the very
beginning of match, you, as a commentator, tried to give an impression
that Bangladesh were scared of facing Afghanistan." This was a game
Majumder was at, so he, by his own admission, heard about Ramiz's crimes
largely through social media. But the previous game between these
teams Afghanistan had won.
This meant that many thought Afghanistan had a chance of winning the
match. No one saw Afghanistan as a favourite, but they saw them as a
danger side. That is not how Bangladesh fans saw it, and they saw it
even less like that when Ramiz spoke. The idea that their team could be
afraid of Afghanistan was a personal affront.
