Lalit Modi has every reason to kick back for a couple of weeks, put his feet up and have a holiday to celebrate the successful staging of the second Indian Premier League (IPL) season in South Africa.
Which is exactly what he’s doing, apparently, although the location is being kept a secret as befits a man with death threats in his inbox.
The last time he went on holiday he chose the beautiful and exclusive Italian island of Capri as his destination, so he is a man with taste. And it will hardly be a cause for concern that the Rajasthan High Court would like an explanation for the fact that he skipped bail by coming to South Africa in the first place.
Modi has regarded himself as above the law ever since he got away scot-free from the United States in 1985 despite being convicted of cocaine possession and kidnapping.
He is accused of ”cheating” and ”forgery” by the administrator of a relief fund for the victims of Jaipur terrorist bomb blasts a year ago because he apparently handed over only about a fifth of the $1,25-million that he promised.
Modi’s relationship with money is curious. He can claim to have raised more of it than virtually any other sports administrator who ever lived, except perhaps Berni Ecclestone, and he certainly knows how to spend it, as the croupiers at casinos around South Africa will testify. And yet he will fight for the last dollar of any contract, squeezing partners and service providers until they bleed.
Cricket South Africa (CSA) bent over backwards to make the IPL happen at short notice and gave its financially beleaguered unions and franchises ”good faith” assurances that any additional or unexpected expenses would be reimbursed.
CSA’s good faith was based on its relationship with Modi, who had indicated that nobody would be out of pocket for acting in the best interests of the IPL.
So when unions were forced to erect temporary hospitality marquees and provide meals and drinks to appease disgruntled suite-holders who had been ”persuaded” to vacate their boxes for the IPL’s team owners and guests, the costs were significant. And as yet they are unpaid. Modi, apparently, is claiming that it is a matter for CSA to sort out.
CSA, meanwhile, is remaining publicly tight-lipped other than to declare the tournament a great success. Other members of cricket’s hierarchy outside CSA have been less reticent —- but still nervous enough not to be named.
”As an organisation it seems that CSA never set out to make a huge amount of money from the IPL,” said a senior executive. ”The numbers that were quoted were pretty much in line with a small ICC event, which isn’t a lot.”
To those with even a passing interest in business, it would seem peculiar that CSA was disinclined to make the most of a potentially lucrative opportunity.
”Those at the top took a long-term view which included all the benefits for the economy as a whole,” the source said. ”Somewhere between R300-million and R400-million was spent in the country. So was it a good thing, or a bad thing?”
But what about CSA and its unions being left to pay the ”extras” bill once the IPL had checked out of the country?
”It would appear that contracts were drawn up in haste,” the source said, ”and some of the small print wasn’t checked by CSA, it’s true. We are talking about two different ways of doing business.
”It hurts at the moment but there will still be a profit and, if we stay on good terms with them, then we could have the Champions League here and possibly other events. The CSA executive are taking the ‘big picture’ and long-term view. There’s no point getting upset about small things, however big they might feel right now.”
Modi may be gone for now (and maybe not —- there was a rumour about a luxury game lodge in KwaZulu-Natal) but he is not forgotten.
It would be impossible for anyone who watched even a couple of games not to have seen his face. Every appearance on screen, as many as a dozen in some matches, was carefully orchestrated. Even the impromptu autograph-signing moment at Kingsmead was diligently choreographed with two planted spectators.
Modi’s never-fading visage caught the attention of cricket lover Dr Neil Leith, a clinical psychologist.
”I’ve never met the man but I couldn’t help thinking how clever he was at marketing and selling himself as part of the whole package. Very smart,” Leith said.
”Then, when I realised the number of his appearances was considerably more than a bit of strategic profiling, and I heard how everything was stage-managed, it appeared to be more of a narcissistic personality. There is vanity, which we all have a bit of, and there is narcissism, which can alienate those around you. I heard that he sends text messages and answers phone calls during important meetings. That isn’t just quirky or idiosyncratic —- it’s being unaware of the normal protocols of decency. But he’s the brains behind the IPL so he’s probably used to behaving just how he wants to.”
Which is exactly what everyone who dealt with him in South Africa is saying. Behind closed doors.