DRS: the eye in the sky

Cricket played in the last few years has confirmed more than anything else the impact of DRS on fortunes of batsmen

Technology has, without an iota of doubt, improved the human existence monumentally. Naysayers say this progress has come at a heavy price. Loss of innocence. Loss of a simple world untouched by the magic of technology. They accuse technology of robbing us of humanity as we live increasingly disconnected in an increasingly connected world. Some celebrate the march of progress, and some lament it with the kind of heartache reserved for the loss of loved ones. Technology like every other human contrivance comes with both bright and dark hues. Yes there were no phones and we wrote letters. Yes, there were no cars once, no foul emissions and we had horses. Yes, there was no processed food, and all we ate was natural. And yes, there was no hotspot, no ball tacking and all we had were men in white. Technology has profoundly changed our lives in unimaginable ways. If it has made our lives predictable and comfortable on one hand, then on the other it has spawned a slew of imponderables.

Cricket has not been safe either. It got DRS. Is it an aid for the umpires or an unflinching, shameless electronic voyeur? Is it an umpire performance management tool or a bulwark of unrelenting commercialisation of cricket? As DRS walks the gait of a newborn, skeptics abound who breathlessly talk about how DRS has overshadowed the on-field umpires and how it has arguably put the batsmen at a decisive disadvantage. It is quite a sight when a world class umpire taps his shoulders before overturning his own decision. Imagine a bowler who has bowled an excellent line all day, taken wickets but fails to make a correct DRS call when most needed. He would most likely leave the ground guilty and scorned. The tales of the wicketkeepers and the batsmen are no different who suffer guilt pangs for wasting precious reviews.

In my opinion, the intent of DRS is not to aid the on-field umpire by augmenting his faculties. It is actually meant to minimise the errors of judgment now that billions ride on the umpiring decisions. DRS is, therefore, a bow to the onslaught of money, an instrument of precision to mitigate the butterfly effect on victory or defeat. That the batsmen are slightly disadvantaged is correct. Earlier batsmen would get the benefit of doubt whenever the ball hit the pads on the up or during the stride forward. DRS kills that beneficial doubt by tracking the ball the moment it leaves the bowler’s hands. Ball tracker chases the ball into the future to confirm if the impact would have been in line and if it would have gone on to shatter the stumps. LBW has always been a tricky decision, the real test of wits and reflexes of the on-field umpire. No more. The players snap into questioning the umpire’s decision which is then referred by the on-field umpire rather nonchalantly to the third umpire perched atop the stadium. On the click of a button, the third umpire travels back and forth in time benefiting both from hindsight and a peep into the future to cast a decision with the weight of a mathematical certainty.

The cricket played in the last few years has confirmed more than anything else the impact of DRS on the fortunes of batsmen and their batting technique. At times the classic battle between a wily bowler and a classy batsman becomes more a contest between the batsman and DRS. Batsman struggles to come up with a posture that can help him concurrently negotiate the turning ball and also keep it away from hitting the legs. Without taking the credit away from the spin wizards, DRS has been responsible in great measure for many batting debacles. That said, DRS has been an unerring mechanism that has virtually eliminated human judgmental errors. One is irresistibly tempted to question the LBW decisions of the past and how DRS would have impacted the fortunes of the batsmen and cricketing nations then.

Why adopt DRS piecemeal? Present DRS model with limited number of reviews is like shaking hands when a full blooded embrace is needed. The benefits are glaringly obvious. With so much money, so much emotion and national honor riding the game, on-field umpiring errors can be extremely costly. One incorrect decision can plunge a whole country into despair and another into ecstasy. Evolution is a brute. It maims even kills evoking repulsion among those who straddle the times of change. But those who adapt and survive say that the changes were an inevitable response to a world in flux. I strongly advocate removing the on-field umpires completely.

Published in The Express Tribune, August 30^th, 2016.

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