Sorry to make you wait, I was with my elocution tutor," said Mahendra Singh Dhoni, as he walked out for the interview. "Elocution? But you are already an articulate speaker, Mahi," I said, hoping to ingratiate myself to him and so get him to answer some difficult queries. "Well, I am learning how to say nothing without saying anything," he said.
Anyway, I told him I am here to ask him about his being in the news columns in recent days. "Yeah, it's been good to be in form and score runs, you know. But all thanks to the top order for giving me the chance to bat 40 out of 50 overs," he said, his thoughts obviously on the two good warm-up matches he's had in the Champions' Trophy. "Er…no," I said, "Actually, it's about Rhiti…" He didn't let me finish. "Forget all this riti-riwaz , no formalites, just ask questions," he said. That was my cue: "Well, questions are being raised about a conflict of interest in your owning the company that manages you and your pals."
Dhoni took off in earnest, "There's no conflict of interest, you know. It's all part of teamwork. As captain, I have realised you have to play as a team. You win the toss, you must make sure the toss that has been won will lead to a win. So, I am interested in adding to my crores. Raina and Sir Jadeja definitely are interested too, as is my friend Arun Pandey. So you see, at the end of the day we have the same interests. There is no conflict."
"But conflict of interest means…" I didn't get to complete the sentence, as Dhoni clattered on, "In fact, you know, you can call it harmony of interest. It's like all of us giving hundred per cent to achieving a target. It's teamwork. The positives we take from this are that we combine our strengths and become a winning force. At the end of the day, as a winning group we get to have a say in choosing the national team, you know, we get to become boardroom boys in big companies that own cricket teams, and we form our own companies to manage us. Why pay others a percentage of your hard-earned money? Now that would be a conflict of interest," he concluded.
That was the meanest helicopter shot I had seen from Dhoni, taking my question from way outside the offside and dispatching it to the furthest corner of the onside field.
I reached the office complex for my second interview and I could smell a sandalwood fragrance in the air. N Srinivasan walked out of the conference room, his face looking as if he had just lost his company to a stake-holding banking company. "Just temporary, just for a few days," were words I thought I heard him mumbling, but I can't say for sure. "Sir," I began, "if I can ask you about the conflict of interest…" As his face became darker, the red tilak on his forehead seemed to flash like an angry traffic light. "How many times do I have to tell you people, I have no interest," he almost shouted. "What interest are you talking about? Conflict of interest in CSK and IPL? I was never, never interested. That is why I never said anything to Gurunath. If I was interested, wouldn't I have stopped him from enthusiastically bringing Vindoo and his gang to the owner's box and enthusiastically printing business cards with his name as owner?
By the way, it is India Cements that owns CSK, not me. And if I was so interested in good administration, would I have persisted in staying BCCI head when cricketers were throwing in the towel? I was not never, never interested in bringing in someone who could have cleaned up the cricket scene. No interest at all. So if there is no interest on my part, where is the conflict?"
I did not have an answer to that, I must admit.
Free Run is a fortnightly look at alternate realities
