da stake casino： The bundles of thick cables by Gate 7 at Green Park were a dead giveaway
Roving Reporter by Rahul Bhatia in Kanpur15-Apr-2005
Millions of viewers would have enjoyed Shahid Afridi’s hundred at Kanpur, thanks to the feeds by TWI, the producer of the series© Getty Images
The bundles of thick cables by Gate 7 at Green Park were a dead giveaway. They ran into a room filled with black boxes containing equipment that is more widely travelled than the Indian team. This was where Trans World International (TWI) had set up a studio; pictures from here are uplinked and then broadcast to over 100 countries.A producer there took me under his wing, and into the room whereimages are cut, replays rewound, statistics culled, and the sound onthe stump-mike amplified after close decisions. “How long do youthink this took to set up?” he asked, sweeping his arm around theroom. “Five-and-a-half hours, including testing.” The room was packedwith equipment and the floor littered with wires. Then, over speakersset up across the room, a voice announced: “We are back on air.” Itwas the director, hunched forward in his chair before a wall ofmonitors covering every conceivable angle on the field. There werefeeds from the stump camera, the ones placed on either side for run-outs, and even one focused on the commentators, who picked up the cueimmediately. “The partnership [between Rahul Dravid and Mohammad Kaif] is 67 off 102 balls,” came Rameez Raja’s voice over the speakers on resumption.When the tour ends, the men and women with TWI, the production companyassigned by the Indian board to produce this series, will have been at it for45 successive days. For the cricket fan, the tour involves three Testsand six one-dayers. For the people producing the series, even the daysin between count. Planes need to be hired – “Don’t even ask about thecost of one of those,” said the producer – bureaucratic localassociations need to be dealt with, visas need to be acquired. All of thisneeds to be done in an instant, as had happened this time aroundbecause the BCCI awarded production rights only three days before theseries began. Even in the high-pressure atmosphere of live production,this was some task. “We asked the guys to remain on standby in case wereceived the rights,” the producer said. His work was helped by thetiming of the series, because there were no other sports events at this part of the year. This meant that the cameramen and technicians were all free to cover the cricket.This team has 45 members, 12 of whom are on the cameras. Most are hiredhands, in one country one day, a continent away the next. But some areregulars. Like the statistician, who doesn’t need to be BCCI-approved.In fact, once the rights are awarded to the lowest bidder, the cricketboard does not play much of a role, barring the selection ofcommentators. While this could be seen as a progressive step, thelocal cricket bodies then take it upon themselves to improve ordegrade situations. “I don’t want to come back here ever again,” acrew member said, referring to the facilities at Kanpur. “The lightswent out yesterday. The night before an international match! Incomparison, Ahmedabad, Bangalore and Jamshedpur were television-friendly. Here, we have to pay for the fans, the tables, even thedrinking water.” What about food? He laughed.Dilemmas are avoided by a reconnaissance team. They arrived in Kanpur three days before the game to figure out what was needed, which holes needed to be plugged, what exactly the ground allowed them to do. This job requires patience, luck, and a spot of divine backing.Once the stage is set, the task is exacting. The drinks break was metwith a surge towards the loo, and between innings the crew had 15minutes for lunch. Between overs they hovered above their consoles,and stepped into action when the countdown before the next over began.It is a task that requires absolute concentration, for when things runsmoothly, only the bumps are remembered. “We could have a great daywhen everything works out well,” the producer sighed, “but if we makeone mistake, that’s what people will recall.”With live television, mistakes are inevitable. For some time, with thechanging appearance of the game, the way it is portrayed has changedtoo. There are nearly five cuts between balls, giving it the slick appearance of a Hollywood action movie. The scope for mistakes is high as the director announces relentlessly, “Six, take six, ten, take ten …” to switchcameras rapidly between deliveries. But these mistakes could also beglossed over in the barrage of imagery.Besides this, there is much to be done on a typical matchday. Wake upat five, be at the ground by six, get everything going, handle thegame, pack up by eight or nine, send off the equipment by aspecially chartered cargo plane, hit the sack by midnight, and catch aflight at an unearthly hour not long after. The times vary, but theintensity remains the same. Did this not drive them mad, I asked theproducer? “You simply get used to it,” was his reply.”What about Delhi? How will you manage that?” I queried.”We’ll manage it somehow.”Producers frequently agree that dealing with cricket coverage in Indiatends to be chaotic, with unbelievable demands placed on productioncompanies at short notice. But even by the hectic standards of today,the last game of the tour threatens to create the most dire problems.One observer at the Ferozshah Kotla said yesterday that it was far from complete. This, the obsessive security and the placement of President Musharraf’s viewing box could all prevent cameras we take for granted from functioning normally. You don’t miss a run-out cam until it isn’t there, do you?I left them as Rameez ambled into the studio, looking spiffing in a pinkshirt, amid technicians loading boxes and preparing for the next match. Outside were generators in trucks travelling by road to Delhi.These generators, according to one source, had been due in Delhi at5pm today. There was no reason for it. The Delhi association justwanted them there by five in the evening.That’s what production is like. Mostly maddening, and sometimes quiteinexplicable. But you simply get used to it.