[[{“value”:”
Eminent cricket writer Neville Cardus once described cricketing music as, “The sound of the bat meeting the ball, a short, sharp yet musical ‘clock’ which tells of perfect timing.”
Had Cardus been at the Narendra Modi Stadium for the final of the ICC Men’s T20 World Cup 2026, he would’ve perhaps been disappointed. For, the moment the ball sped to the boundary, the stadium DJ sprang into action. As the ball travelled to different corners of the ground, one song followed another in rapid succession.
And when the first Indian wicket fell in the form of Abhishek Sharma, before one could absorb the silence of disappointment, the DJ was back again. In Cardus’s words, there was no space for “the deep, sudden sigh of a thousand breaths,” that collective sound of heartbreak which so often defines the theatre of cricket.
One understands that these are different times. The T20 cricket format thrives on constant stimulation and spectacle. Yet one cannot help but wonder whether such boisterous noise is needed. In an already fast-paced game, does it really add anything to the spectator’s experience?
Recently, Sunil Gavaskar had also spoken about how the DJ’s sound during overs could disturb players. And for the fan, who wants to soak in the contest, there’s hardly a moment to breathe. The relentless blast of music often becomes an intrusion, interrupting the natural ebb and flow of the game.
This overuse of stadium music reduces the charm of cricketing music to the background. True followers of the game can only hope that the organisers take note and let the natural symphony of cricket take centre stage.
“}]]
