Indians treat their Sardajis much like how the English treat the Irish, or the Aussies treat the Kiwis. That is to say, they treat them as a joke, give or take a few dozen here or there. There is no animosity involved in the exercise at all, just a tendency to crack a joke or at the other’s expense or take the mickey out, as the saying goes. Depending on the occasion this can lead to a rivalry which can sometimes boil over, only to calm down to normalcy very soon and the status quo is resumed.

I do not know whether Bishen Singh Bedi is considered a joke or not in his own country, but back in ours, he has become more a bad joke than a good one. In fact, the mere mention of his name is enough to draw expletives from otherwise mellow men who spend most of their retired lives counting beads and contemplating the infinite. This situation has come about through some ill considered references by Bedi over a period of time, directed at Sri Lanka’s favourite son - Muttiah Muralideran.

Things being so, any attempt by one to stay neutral on the subject and go beyond the mere words of Bedi would be considered an action tantamount to being a bootlicker of the Australians (The connection is complicated!). That is, despite those worthies down under having had much to do in extricating Murali from the mire he fell into, concerning his action. This then is the sad commentary of modern Sri Lanka, intolerant of anybody else’s views or opinions which are contrary to theirs. In effect it is the reflection of a battered nation’s feeling of insecurity that manifests itself through such intolerance. Murali after all has been one of the few Sri Lankans of undisputed international class, and any attempt at ridiculing or questioning his action would be seen as a threat to the nation.

Muralideran however, is seen by the outside world as a public performer. As such, he is open to public comment, criticism and sometimes even ridicule. That is the price he pays for his fame and riches and that unfortunate kink in his elbow. And as long as he plays and even thereafter, the debate on his action will rage until the last of those who have seen the classicists have passed on. However much one may try to justify, the truth is, Murali does not possess the classical unquestioning, flowing action of the orthodox off spinner - men like Jim Laker or for that matter, our own Priya Perera or Abu Fuard. Muralideran is a freak. There cannot be another like him.

Therein also lies the problem. Freaks could do their thing and pass muster, but those who copy them, do not. When I was young I was either Alan Davidson or Gary Sobers when bowling in those lengthy ‘Test matches’ played on the front lawns of our home. Emulating one’s heroes was a favourite pastime and one became quite adept at it eventually. Similarly, Murali must have thousands everywhere, emulating him. And unless they all had a naturally ‘crook’ elbow and a wrist that turned almost a full circle around its axis, they would - if they persisted in copying their hero - actually be practicing the art of throwing more than bowling the ball. Unwittingly, Murali could be the catalyst to thousands of young men with questionable actions.

Before you explode, pause awhile to reflect upon those words. Better still, take a tennis ball in hand, and using the off spinner’s grip try bowling the leg spinner off the back of your hand. Long years ago on rainy days we played ‘one bump cricket’ that way in our verandah, using only a massively flexing elbow and no body action. To achieve the required end of getting the ball to behave as would a leg break, it required a definite flexure of the elbow and the rotating of the wrist to a very high degree. If flexure of the elbow was not allowed (it was, in our case) the wrist had to rotate a great deal and also be very strong to impart the necessary spin.

This is not to say we make light of Bedi’s crass and tasteless comments which infuriated some to the extent of threatening to drag him to court. The fact is, any discussion on Murali’s action is a sensitive exercise, and words written or spoken must be cloaked with tact, if one were to avoid the predictable backlash. And given a hawkish media ever ready to pounce on anything that Bedi, Warne or Ranatunga would have to say on anything, it would be doubly unwise for anyone to utter anything as bluntly as would, a Bedi. Derogatory comment from whichever quarter is the refuge of those who cannot argue their case effectively and win the point. And the fact that Bedi has plenty to say, but always to the wrong audience is unfortunate; almost irritating. The problem is, he does not raise his concerns at the right forum. That is the moot point. By choosing various soap boxes and using language far from temperate, he leaves himself open to the charge of vituperation and seeking sensationalism. Someone with good sense needs to tell him that.

The first thing that strikes those who have seen Bedi bowl is his action. His gentle rhythm and control, cloaking the feverish intensity of his intent to fool the batsman into indiscretion. Tony Lewis once said that he always thought a great clockmaker would have been proud to have set Bedi in motion – ‘a mechanism of finely balanced cogs rolling silently and hands sweeping in smooth arcs across the face.’ Bedi by general consensus among those who have watched the great players was considered the prime example of the classical left arm spinner. He must therefore, know a thing or two - much like our Abu Fuard does - about classical bowling actions. And not unlike Fuard himself, Bedi has a rasping tongue which fails to cloak his message sufficiently to allow him to carry it beyond the threshold of the world body that controls the game. Instead he appears to trip at the most important point, by falling pray to the temptation of ridicule and failing therefore in his larger role to illuminate and educate. That is the tragedy.

But let us not for a moment be fooled that the turbaned sikh’s protestations however coarse, carried no message. Not being inclined to carry a brief for anybody, I am not sure what Bedi meant by reference to the creation of a monster. But by allowing the 15 degree leeway the ICC certainly created itself a terrible tangle. The sole purpose of the throwing Law is to prevent a bowler from gaining an unfair advantage in the heat of combat. And nothing convinces me more of its worth than when reflecting that the difference between a fair delivery and an unfair one in a fast bowler, is as much as a 10k increase in pace. Given that consideration and the present law, many batsmen can begin to worship the helmet on their heads. If not for that, some bowlers could actually kill a batsman by merely striving for greater pace.

Given the various ramifications, no umpire today would intervene and stop a bowler with a dodgy action even though he had the right by law to do it. They would instead, take the less toilsome path of reporting the matter after the event. By which time of course a match or a series could be unfairly won or lost. A Law which fails to prevail at the moment of transgression serves little purpose. In permitting the process of reporting and not encouraging immediate intervention, the Law fails to achieve its primary objective of serving as an immediate deterrent to the errand bowler.

No bowler could be completely cleared on the charge of throwing, because he could do just that, with the very next ball he bowls. Laboratory tests therefore are farcical because they do not clear a bowler’s action under match conditions. So to prevent unfair delivery – particularly in fast bowlers yearning for greater pace - there must be a process of continuous monitoring of bowling actions. The best recourse would be to fall back on the human eye, but that would be going back a full circle. Given all that has happened, including the rampant egalitarianism in the last 35 years, the concept of accepting the umpire’s word by players and spectators alike on this issue is unthinkable. It is also unlikely the umpires would intervene in matters such as throwing, despite having the power to do so in the middle of a game.