Operation desert Storm

This, from a man whose family’s control over the RCA since 1967 was so all-pervasive, so tight, that it was only in half-jest that people would call it the Rungta Cricket Association.

It’s been an eventful six months for the Rungtas ever since the Rajasthan government moved the Rajasthan Sports (Regulation, Recognition and Registration) Ordinance, 2004. Behind the legalese was an apparent one-point agenda: get the Rungtas out of the RCA.

Since then, for the first time since 1967, an RCA meeting was held outside the Rungta premises, and a person other than a Rungta represented the RCA at a BCCI meeting. The significance of the latter event will become clear later.

The government’s action raised a basic question: Did it really need an Ordinance (which, when the Rajasthan Assembly session begins tomorrow, should become law) to achieve this? Couldn’t they have been voted out?

Consider this: The RCA electorate comprised 66 individual members and 32 district representatives. Individual members included assorted members of the Rungta clan, brothers, son-in-laws, nephews, uncles, and staff members. And friends in high place: Jagmohan Dalmiya, I S Bindra, Kamal Morarka. Up against this, the 32 district votes were immaterial.

The Ordinance’s modus operandi was breathtakingly simple: First, it took the voting rights away from individual members. Next, the Registrar of Co-operative Societies decreed that elections hadn’t been held in time and scrapped Rungta’s committee, appointing an ad-hoc panel to hold fresh elections.

The Rungtas were caught and bowled.

THE story doesn’t really begin there; it begins on March 4, 2003, when Lalit Kumar Modi became president of the Jalore District Cricket Association. A crorepati several times over (see box), Modi’s election did seem strange at the time. This was still in the era when district votes counted for nought against the individual members’ votes. Why a business tycoon would land his private jet in this remote cricket body with no chance of success didn’t make sense.

It does today. Because when the Rungtas were unseated, he became the government’s pinch-hitter. And, when the ‘‘free and fair’’ elections are held on February 21, he is the best bet to win.

The Jalore story is today the subject of much rumour and gossip. The Rungta camp says the election was an act of deception; for years, they say, Jalore had a president by the name of Lalit Kumar and when election results were announced there seemed to be no change in the names of the officials. But, says Kishore Rungta, ‘‘business tycoon Lalit Kumar Modi replaced the original Lalit Kumar and in order to hoodwink the RCA dropped his surname.’’

It’s a piece of creating thinking that probably appeals to Modi but on record he denies it. His aide Subhash Joshi, president of the Sikar District Cricket Association, seeks to prove the point. He tells a Modi employee in Jaipur to call up Jalore and ask who was Modi’s predecessor. ‘‘Babulal Mohta’’, says the voice at the other end of the line.

‘‘There was never any Lalit Kumar at Jalore’’, Joshi says. ‘‘These are just ploys by the Rungtas to create confusion and drag the matter to court. They hope to delay the polls, overcome the crisis.’’

When it comes to names, though, Modi has several in his corner. He’d once been part of the PCA, an establishment run by Dalmiya-baiter I S Bindra. He’s also on very close terms with Rajasthan Chief Minister Vasundhara Raje Scindia (though that, says Joshi, is mere coincidence: ‘‘Modi won the Jalore election in March, 2003 when nobody knew that Vasundhara would come to power’’).

And, in a bizarre twist, he is connected to Rungta by marriage.

THE power change first registered nationally last month, when the BCCI concluded its unfinished AGM in Kolkata. Modi’s aide Subhash Joshi attended as the RCA representative. Dalmiya was in the chair for his absent successor Ranbir Mahendra, who had been elected by one vote last September.

Joshi describes what happened. ‘‘Dalmiya asked me to leave, saying Rungta represented the RCA and there was no place for anybody from the ad-hoc committee.’’ Joshi then pointed out that the BCCI had recognised teams selected by the ad-hoc committee for the Ranji Trophy and under-22 tournaments so he had every right to be there.

‘‘I sat on the chair and asked for the attendance register to put my signature and told Dalmiya that if he wanted me out, he’d have to give it to me in writing.’’

Joshi signed the muster.The RCA candidate will probably play a more important role in the next BCCI elections in September. And if Modi is that man, if he wins the election Monday fortnight, Dalmiya has a problem on his hands.

IN the middle of this high-stakes game the Ordinance itself seems almost trifling. Yet obviously it has far-reaching implications. Kishore Rungta puts forward his concerns. ‘‘I don’t have a big problem if they take the voting rights from individual members. But chances are the districts will be taken over by politicians or other influential non-cricketing people at the local level. With every political change there will be a change among the officials. Continuity will be lost and the game will be in hands of people with no experience in cricket administration.’’

He’s found support from an unexpected corner. The Ordinance, lest we forget, covers all sport in the region, not just cricket. Enter the Indian Olympic Association, till now the chief regulator of sports. From the sidelines of the Delhi Commonwealth Games preparations, IOA president Suresh Kalmadi watched with concern as his turf was invaded.

He reacted by sending a letter to Vasundhara Raje threatening to debar players from the state taking part in the National Games if the Ordinance is passed. ‘‘The Ordinance is against the Olympic charter. The government can’t be a regulating body for sports units. In case some units are erring I can go to Jaipur and talk with the CM and we will pull them up. They can’t play our role.’’

His words don’t cut much ice in the corridors of power in Jaipur. ‘‘Madam wouldn’t budge’’, say officials, ‘‘she always goes ahead with her plan despite the pressure.’’ The pressure is not just from sportspeople; the man fighting the Rungtas’ case in the Supreme Court is her senior party colleague, DDCA president Arun Jaitley.

This is decidedly not a local turf war.

The government’s Principal Secretary (Sports) V S Singh makes just one point: ‘‘The cricket body went to court against the Ordinance but the High Court decided in favour of the state government. So the Ordinance has even passed judicial scrutiny.’’

As the shadow-boxing, the points-scoring, goes on in Jaipur, Jalore and New Delhi, two little facts seem to have been missed by all concerned or otherwise: One, the last Test cricketer from Rajasthan was Parthasarthy Sharma way back in 1978 and two, the state team is currently placed somewhere at the bottom of the Ranji Trophy Plate division.

It seems most of the action in Rajasthan cricket is away from the field.