Recession gives us world's first million-pound cricketers, Pietersen and Flintoff
The pound may be in freefall but England's dynamic duo have taken the Twenty20 world into seven figures
England's leading players Andrew Flintoff and Kevin Pietersen can delight in their good fortune in having become the world's first £1m cricketers. Photograph: Matt Dunham/AP
Thanks to the parlous state of the pound, we all woke up today to discover that Andrew Flintoff and Kevin Pietersen had become the world's first £1m cricketers. Because sterling is bumping along at about 1.46 to the dollar, they squeeze in at about £1.06m. It's awfully kind of Gordon Brown to preside over such a run on the pound so that we all have something nice to celebrate.
If Flintoff and Pietersen had been sold for $1.55m this time last year, we might all have shrugged and said: 'Yes, well, it might well be a record, but it's only worth £800,000. It's hardly worth getting out of bed for. On balance, it must be far more fun to be a geography teacher."
One thing is certain, envy will be rife down the pub tonight. People who can't name more than half the England side will be staring into their pints and moaning: "No cricketer is worth that sort of money." At least it will change the conversation from how all the immigrants should go home. Or perhaps, in KP's case, the conversations will intertwine and his bounty will take on vaguely racist undertones: "He should get back to South Africa and let one of our lads not be worth the money instead."
All this grumbling is uncalled for. If an Indian franchise wants to splash the cash then good luck to all of them. The IPL, as its administrators like to boast, is a classic example of the free market. You are paid what someone thinks you are worth. It is just that, in the free market, no one has a clue any more what anything – or anyone – is really worth.
Barclays were valued at about £15bn at the start of November but only about £4bn last week as shareholders sold in droves. Perhaps they should bundle up some unwanted players like Luke Wright, Samit Patel and any number of Australian state players and flog them off to Deccan Chargers as triple-A securities.
In fact, it would be far more fun if cricketers were turned into public companies, with their value ruled entirely by their share price. Then if Pietersen slogged one up in the air on 97, or Flintoff got out early, you could not only curse at the TV screen but get on the phone and ring your broker.
There has been talk of how England's dressing room will be riven by conflict because of the IPL. This comes only a month after talk about how England's dressing room was riven by conflict because of the falling-out between Kevin Pietersen and Peter Moores. Someone should tell Obama to get Hillary Clinton on the case.
In both cases, this is all hugely over-blown. Sponsorship deals have long exaggerated the disparity between the richest and poorest members of the England squad. Cricketers have embraced the free market more enthusiastically than many imagine. The IPL raises rewards to new levels, but it will not change the character of the game.
What is unnerving is not the money, it is the lack of personal freedom. Even footballers maintain a shallow pretence that Manchester City, Arsenal or whoever signs them is the only club they have ever wished to play for. Occasionally, they still refuse to move. Yet the IPL auction is a glorified cattle market. The players go where they are told. They should all be forced to turn up, stand in a pen and then trail out after their Indian owner, gently mooing.
Pietersen and Flintoff have come out of it pretty well. Pietersen is heading for Bangalore, which is probably second to Mumbai as England's favourite Indian city. Chennai will give Flintoff every chance to work up a sweat, especially in its perpetual traffic jams. But personally I've never really taken to Delhi and if I was Paul Collingwood or Owais Shah I would be screaming: "Look, I don't really want to go there, it's all been a dreadful mistake." And as for Deccan Chargers, that would have been worse than being told you have been sold to Middlesbrough.
Some happy deals have been made. When Bangalore paid $160,000 for Jesse Ryder, the infamously roistering Kiwi could be secure in the knowledge that his bar bill had been paid for another year. Bangalore, incidentally, are owned by Vijay Mallya, chairman of the United Breweries Group, which produces Kingfisher lager. We all know what Jesse will be supping.
But the most heartwarming story was Kolkata Knight Riders' only bid of the night, an astonishing late purchase of Mashrafe Mortaza for $600,000, 12 times above his reserve price. Kolkata have a vague theory that it will open up business opportunities in Bangladesh.
Maybe the credit crunch has yet to hit Chittagong. It looks like madness. But for Mortaza, who happens to be a thoroughly nice lad, and the whole of Bangladeshi cricket, it is a cause for unbounded joy. There is nothing wrong with that.
Cricket: David Hopps on Kevin Pietersen and Andrew Flintoff in the Indian Premier League auction | Sport | guardian.co.uk
The pound may be in freefall but England's dynamic duo have taken the Twenty20 world into seven figures
England's leading players Andrew Flintoff and Kevin Pietersen can delight in their good fortune in having become the world's first £1m cricketers. Photograph: Matt Dunham/AP
Thanks to the parlous state of the pound, we all woke up today to discover that Andrew Flintoff and Kevin Pietersen had become the world's first £1m cricketers. Because sterling is bumping along at about 1.46 to the dollar, they squeeze in at about £1.06m. It's awfully kind of Gordon Brown to preside over such a run on the pound so that we all have something nice to celebrate.
If Flintoff and Pietersen had been sold for $1.55m this time last year, we might all have shrugged and said: 'Yes, well, it might well be a record, but it's only worth £800,000. It's hardly worth getting out of bed for. On balance, it must be far more fun to be a geography teacher."
One thing is certain, envy will be rife down the pub tonight. People who can't name more than half the England side will be staring into their pints and moaning: "No cricketer is worth that sort of money." At least it will change the conversation from how all the immigrants should go home. Or perhaps, in KP's case, the conversations will intertwine and his bounty will take on vaguely racist undertones: "He should get back to South Africa and let one of our lads not be worth the money instead."
All this grumbling is uncalled for. If an Indian franchise wants to splash the cash then good luck to all of them. The IPL, as its administrators like to boast, is a classic example of the free market. You are paid what someone thinks you are worth. It is just that, in the free market, no one has a clue any more what anything – or anyone – is really worth.
Barclays were valued at about £15bn at the start of November but only about £4bn last week as shareholders sold in droves. Perhaps they should bundle up some unwanted players like Luke Wright, Samit Patel and any number of Australian state players and flog them off to Deccan Chargers as triple-A securities.
In fact, it would be far more fun if cricketers were turned into public companies, with their value ruled entirely by their share price. Then if Pietersen slogged one up in the air on 97, or Flintoff got out early, you could not only curse at the TV screen but get on the phone and ring your broker.
There has been talk of how England's dressing room will be riven by conflict because of the IPL. This comes only a month after talk about how England's dressing room was riven by conflict because of the falling-out between Kevin Pietersen and Peter Moores. Someone should tell Obama to get Hillary Clinton on the case.
In both cases, this is all hugely over-blown. Sponsorship deals have long exaggerated the disparity between the richest and poorest members of the England squad. Cricketers have embraced the free market more enthusiastically than many imagine. The IPL raises rewards to new levels, but it will not change the character of the game.
What is unnerving is not the money, it is the lack of personal freedom. Even footballers maintain a shallow pretence that Manchester City, Arsenal or whoever signs them is the only club they have ever wished to play for. Occasionally, they still refuse to move. Yet the IPL auction is a glorified cattle market. The players go where they are told. They should all be forced to turn up, stand in a pen and then trail out after their Indian owner, gently mooing.
Pietersen and Flintoff have come out of it pretty well. Pietersen is heading for Bangalore, which is probably second to Mumbai as England's favourite Indian city. Chennai will give Flintoff every chance to work up a sweat, especially in its perpetual traffic jams. But personally I've never really taken to Delhi and if I was Paul Collingwood or Owais Shah I would be screaming: "Look, I don't really want to go there, it's all been a dreadful mistake." And as for Deccan Chargers, that would have been worse than being told you have been sold to Middlesbrough.
Some happy deals have been made. When Bangalore paid $160,000 for Jesse Ryder, the infamously roistering Kiwi could be secure in the knowledge that his bar bill had been paid for another year. Bangalore, incidentally, are owned by Vijay Mallya, chairman of the United Breweries Group, which produces Kingfisher lager. We all know what Jesse will be supping.
But the most heartwarming story was Kolkata Knight Riders' only bid of the night, an astonishing late purchase of Mashrafe Mortaza for $600,000, 12 times above his reserve price. Kolkata have a vague theory that it will open up business opportunities in Bangladesh.
Maybe the credit crunch has yet to hit Chittagong. It looks like madness. But for Mortaza, who happens to be a thoroughly nice lad, and the whole of Bangladeshi cricket, it is a cause for unbounded joy. There is nothing wrong with that.
Cricket: David Hopps on Kevin Pietersen and Andrew Flintoff in the Indian Premier League auction | Sport | guardian.co.uk
