A Letter to Ramiz Raja

Dear Ramiz,

For years I have tolerated your ubiquitous presence at any post-match presentation ceremony or in the commentary box. I have cringed at your 80s hair-style, wondering if you actually realised that the hairdo, as well as you, were way past your popularity peak. While your command over the Queen's language made me doubt your nationality, the on-the-brink-of-crying voice during Pakistan's defeats confirmed it.

Even as a kid, your post match interviews either made me belch or laugh, depending upon the match's outcome and my mood. You however, managed to keep them senseless and directionless with a bloody minded persistence. And every time you uttered the word 'tremendous' more than thrice in a minute, I swore to God to torture you to a recording of that single word, played over and over again, until that was the only word you could speak. But the next second I used to remind myself that that would be redundant. And just when our relationship had hit rock bottom, you went ahead and started digging the bottom by doing this.

But isn't life funny? You ask why. Because I miss you. I miss your directionless remarks because they were at least cricket. I miss you because of the new presentation team in IPL. True, you sucked at it, but you sucked at it with the authority. Albeit, the authority of an ordinary and somewhat experienced ex-cricketer, but some authority nevertheless. Unlike the bunch of nincompoops who don't have any knowledge either of cricket and (hopefully) of what they are saying. Well, if they did really know what they were saying and still said it, they should be sent on a political and media exile to the US for being so dumb.

True, you are biased against India and are miserable when India wins. But here, any time winning would be Indian so you will always be miserable, unlike the partial Sunny who roots shamelessly for MI. To be honest, I'd enjoy that more than Sunny going hero-worshipping over a Sachin single. Between you and me, I also hate Sunny getting all poetic about the moon when showing off his GK on MRF and it's horrible offspring, the blimp.

To put things in perspective, if you were to be part of IPL, I doubt if I'd feel like breaking the TV any less than I do now. But at least I'll not feel ashamed of my fellow countrymen and feel like migrating to Bangladesh every time I wake up in the morning and will be able to blame it on Pakistan. Hence, dear Ramiz, please write a letter, or e-mail, or tweet, or court summon, to Mr. Modi, his assistant or his peon, depending upon your approach inside his office and offer yourself as Pakistan's gift to Indian cricket, in lieu of Sania Mirza. I am sure he will comply.

A Cricket Lover