He made airwaves, we floated on them!

Raju Korti
The legendary Richie Benaud once remarked that "the problem with relying on nostalgia for commentary is that people remember only the good things." What Benaud said was a rule with the honourable exception of fellow commentator Tony Cozier.

Cozier with Michael Holding (Courtesy Barbadostoday)

Tony Cozier, who died at 76 yesterday was actually more of a Barbadian than West Indian. I say this because when the West Indians were the most exciting bunch of cricketers in the fifties, sixties and early seventies, being a Barbadian carried more weight than being a West Indian. Cozier's refrain then was a simple but factual comment he would make in all the years of the island's glorious cricketing history: "The West Indies are a tremendously talented side." That was his subtle way of telling that no other cricketing nation could be considered anywhere close to the West Indies. Cozier was more West Indian than the West Indians themselves. For someone who was a charmed witness to the illustrious and resplendent chapters in West Indies cricket for well over 48 years, Cozier carried facts and figures on the tip of his tongue, never faltering even once. He defied the unwritten rule that if you are not controversial, you will never break through the din of the commentary. To his cricketing sense, commentating was more of lucid narration and expression which he did with forensic details.
As a commentator he was in a class of his own if you realise that there were other sublime commentators like Brian Johnston, John Arlott, Christopher Martin Jenkins, Henry Blofeld, Don Moseley, Alan M'cgilvray, Freddie Truman, Trevor Bailey and Ray Illingworth who were the uncrowned kings of commentary box. I am mentioning these names because Cozier himself was part of the terrific BBC Test Match Special team in those days. Commentators in those days were not the kind you see on television now. They had a tougher, non-visual medium like the radio to hold forth their commentary skills. They were so good and vivid that listeners would feel that they were watching the match live. Such was his craft that Cozier could shift gears easily to be as good on the TV if you know that skills required for both fundamentally differ. He could move seamlessly between radio and television boxes lost in himself describing the (then) domination and (later) demise of the West Indian cricket.
Never pompous and expansive in his description unlike many of his contemporaries, Cozier was born with two blessings -- an exceptional voice tailor-made for radio and TV and his innate ability to reel out facts and figures on the spur of the movement. While his colleagues always turned to statisticians for facts and figures, Cozier had them on the tip of his tongue. That gave him a fluency and edge perhaps no other commentator had.
Cozier never played Test cricket in his life but his roots from Barbados was a qualification enough. Add to that his writing skills as a journalist where the words became slave to his matter-of-fact expression. Just how good he was can be gauged from the fact that as a White, he saw the West Indian cricket flourish despite the racial prejudice that prevailed until the early seventies. A lot is being said about the tightrope Caribbean politics that Cozier may have had to negotiate at a time where even the slightest adverse comment about a West Indian cricketer could lead to a frenzied backlash. Cozier's love for the West Indies and its cricket was unquestionable but he had the guts to take on the Quixotic functioning of the West Indian Cricket Board and never crossing the line even once. He was equally fierce with those who were unfair to the West Indian cricketers. A voice with conscience, he had this ability to be outspoken without rubbing people the wrong way and being officialese. That made him a golden mean between the dryness of Australian commentary and self-indulgent English commentary.
Indisposed in the last few months, Cozier had the pleasure of seeing some revival of the West Indian cricket when the country recently won Under-19 World Cup, Women's T20 World Cup and the World T20 finals. He had been forced to give up alcohol after a major surgery but for this hat-trick of victories, he would have surely risked a liberal toast.

Dressed for the kill: Modi, Mubarak and Clinton

Raju Korti

Club of four suits: Carter, Clinton, Obama and Bush (whitehouse.gov)

Having seen Prime Minister Narendra Modi from close enough quarters even before he had made it to national consciousness, it came to me as no surprise at all. For someone who wears his name like a factory label on his sleeve, very few got the fine print when he wore that pompous coat with his name monogrammed all over as pin-stripes.
Modi's sartorial sense was never in question although he mentioned very casually once that whatever he wore, fit him well enough. To me, the key element in this "coat episode" was President Barrack Obama subtly hinting that he would not mind adding a few Modi kurtas to his wardrobe. The long sighs all over the country, however, said it all: How could the prime minister of a country put the state exchequer in the hole for Rs 10 lakh to wear an outrageous and self-glorifying attire. But in India controversies happen out of non-issues as well. The late Egypt President Hosni Mubarak had achieved that feat much before in 2009 when he wore a suit with his name inscribed into the pin-stripes. But the military and political leader could manage only murmurs as against Modi's uproar. In his country, Mubarak was the self-anointed head of state while Modi assumed power through public mandate. Mubarak was an officially acknowledged dictator, Modi the unofficial one.
This is no comparison between Modi and Mubarak. The interesting issue to me here is what makes for an ideal dress sense if you happen to be in public life and more so as a leader of masses. The Washington Post has summed up the predicament of former President Bill Clinton on what to wear when he is no longer the centre of attraction. But Clinton, who came to be almost impeached in 1998, needn't worry too much about it. His sexual escapades with a 21-year-old White House intern and then bluffing his countrymen about it are still good enough to keep him in limelight. The present presidential contender Donald Trump seems to have made an integral part of his campaign to provide refreshers on Clinton's sexual misadventures and taunting wife Hillary. The former First Lady, the true Methodist she is, seems to be taking it in her stride with a poise that has managed to stand by her so far. It is immaterial how much bearing Trump's trumpeting of Clinton's misdemeanants will have on the presidential elections but the former president, is at the moment more bogged down by his predicament on what it means to wear a uniform of power but not possess it.
Although Clinton is preparing for the role of a backstage performer with all the skills acquired from those post-presidential orations, there are many Americans who believe that his dress sense will have an influential role to play when he reels out those applause lines in support of his once wronged wife. A sizeable section of the population keenly watching the presidential election drama unfold, are keen to know whether Clinton wears something American or some fancy European import.
It is generally believed that if Clinton's campaign works for his wife, his clothes will assume a great significance because his clothes would reveal the true him. The contention behind this logic is if he doesn't stick to protocol and tradition, he wouldn't be delivering an address at the swearing-in or a toast at a state dinner. So what Clinton wears will depend much on what his stylists design for him.
Based on a survey of his photographs, the Washington Post found that President Obama used mostly two tuxedos while in office. But that that was a non issue. Clinton has been wearing a mix between the casual and informal while canvassing for his wife, ostensibly to gain public sympathy -- a perceptible effort to atone for a wrong that cost him his office.
The paper's parting shot says it all: "He (Clinton) wears a Hillary-for-president pin during his campaign trail. Sometimes it is a tasteful little H. Sometimes it's a medallion of the size of a saucer. This time, he is not selling America on itself. He is selling the country on his wife."
Now draw parallels with Modi and sketch the picture of your choice.

The comedy of laughter

Raju Korti
In one of my cerebrally expansive moods I had once unwittingly said that laughter is an instant vacation. The only depth, if any, that came from this instant quote was its "instant" value in an era of instant coffee and instant noodles. Condemned to a debilitating condition physically and financially in the last couple of years, I have actually come to realise that there is a longer shelf life to my quote than the "instant" value I had intended to convey.
Having emptied my pockets on medical expenses, the only vacation I can afford is laughter. But nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce. I have been watching some of the laughter shows on television channels these days more out of desperation than as a therapy for the depressing and unhealthy times I have been in. Try hard as I might, I just haven't been able to summon my wit and sense of humour to laugh at the cheeky and ribald buffoonery dished out with alarming regularity on these shows.
When you watch the judges' and the audience reaction on laughter shows, you realise how devoid you are of humour. Or your inability to take "jokes" in your stride. Those in the audience laugh their guts out like startles hyenas, patting their tummies and until tears start rolling down their eyes. The second one seems more genuine. The judges laugh like there is no tomorrow with a frantic flurry of actions. The performers come out with a script so pathetic that I suspect many who laugh do so because someone from behind is tickling them under their armpits. It is a show where the audience, both passive and live, give it their best shot trying to outdo each other in laughing.
In one show, I have been seeing the invitees falling off from their chairs laughing and trying to regain their breath. Many of them start guffawing even before the so called joke has begun from an assorted slapstick comedy genres like buffoonery, mimicking, dark humour from stand up comedians. Cricketer-turned laugh-a-holic  Navjyot Singh Sidhu, among the judges at one such show, split himself even when there was no joke. The idea probably was if no one else will, at least Sidhu will laugh. It left people like me seriously wondering whether we have the stomach to know and understand what is comedy. Maybe it was a case of Errors of Comedy. There are exceptions, however.
In one show, I saw a former chief minister sitting through the entire comedy show as if he was watching a funeral. The performers tried their best to force the man to at least smile but he continued to sit poker-faced. Now that was real humour because this man is never known to laugh unless he decides to do it himself. Whoever decided to invite him to the show deserved a big dose of humour himself. It could have been an ideal start for something like AIB Roast.
The loony brigade has made a virtue out of Comedy Nightmares. Why not institute an award for the one who laughs most wildly? He is the one who deserves it most even if that sounds like wicked humour. That brings me to make another profound quote: It is the ability to take a joke, not make one, that proves you have a sense of humour. I am trying hard to develop one.