Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy. Vijay Kaushik. Contents Author's Note Part One – In The Beginning Chapter 1: 'There is nothing new under the sun' Chapter 2. Read Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy by Ed Hawkins for free with a 30 day free trial. Read unlimited* books and audiobooks on the web, iPad, iPhone and Android. Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy book. Read 24 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. A startling and powerful journey to the very core of India.

Author:INELL MCCULLIN
Language:English, Spanish, German
Country:Somalia
Genre:Fiction & Literature
Pages:498
Published (Last):13.05.2016
ISBN:644-1-42810-938-4
Distribution:Free* [*Register to download]
Uploaded by: LORELEI

50677 downloads 119524 Views 37.39MB PDF Size Report


Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy Pdf

Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy: A Journey to the Heart of. Cricket's Underworld. Filesize: MB. Reviews. It in a of the most popular pdf. It really is full of knowledge. Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy is a story featuring politicians, governing bodies, illegal bookmakers and powerless players – as well as corruption, intimidation and. But then Hawkins receives a message that changes everything and he decides it is time to expose the truth behind match-fixing. Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy is a.

You will also understand how the betting system, especially in India, works. That is no punters were making money on the sting, as any bookmaker who is going to stay in business would know there was a fix on. Hawkins certainly implies that Mohammad Amir, the young Pakistan bowler, was at worst naive and at best manipulated. BGFS is almost like a whodunit, with Hawkins involved in shadowy meetings with bookmakers, a spy, gamblers and perhaps the odd fixer. The mystery he pursues from early on is whether the semi final in the World Cup between India and Pakistan was fixed. In the end he puts it back onto the players and rightly points out that without their cooperation the match fixers would struggle. Unfortunately, and as Hawkins demonstrates, there are always players, whether deliberately or unknowingly, doing the bidding of the betting fraternity. As is usual with this type of book Hawkins does not name every player implicated in match fixing, although he does name more than you would perhaps expect, and almost every Test nation is represented. While the book is well written and always interesting it does after awhile start to wear you down, and as I feared does make you question the point of watching professional cricket. Despite the wait I still feel uneasy and imagine I, just like Hawkins, will be now looking for subterfuge and skulduggery at every turn. Leave a comment.

Gibbs and Williams were banned for six months, Boje and Strydom, who under oath both denied ever having been involved in fixing, were both ex- onerated. Jadeja was eventually cleared by the Delhi High Court. Life bans for Salim Malik although his sanction was later overturned by a Lahore court in and Ata-ur-Rehman his life ban was lif- ted by the ICC in November followed, while Wasim Akram was fined and barred from captaining his country.

Rehman was later allowed to play again from The purge was complete. Apparently for the second time in its history, cricket had cut out the cancer. Does it need to perform emergency surgery for a third time? This was the question I had on my mind when I stood outside that small bureau de change, the ghosts of the Green Man sending a chill down the spine. Butt, the former Pakistan captain, was sentenced to two years and six months, Asif got a one-year jail sentence and Amir, his fellow bowler, six months.

Majeed was sen- tenced to two years and eight months. As a gambler and cricket fan I wanted to know more of how corruption in cricket worked, who the bookmakers were, how and where they operated, what markets they bet on, how players were targeted, what they were promised and how they were paid.

How was a fix set up? How was money actually gener- ated from a fix? Was it bookmakers manipu- lating odds? Was it punters placing bets? The spot-fixing case involving the Pakistan play- ers had not answered any of these questions. Sanjay Chawla could perhaps provide an- swers to my questions.

Originally from Delhi, Chawla had lived in London since , run- ning his garment shop. He had learned the trade from the family business which had been set up in , originally in Jangpura. His store, apparently, was inauspicious, selling cheap non-Indian clothing. So on that Oxford Street afternoon I went door to door, seeking him out at each of the shops which best matched the description. But he did not. The worker returned with a blank face and I was on my way.

It rang three times before an irritated voice answered. Chawla has never spoken of his past, ap- parently sleeping in his car to avoid reporters. He did not reply. Of course, I was being lazy. I thought a stroll down Oxford Street on a pleasant late summer day would satisfy my curiosity. In the end I believe I got the answers to my questions and a lot more besides. I hope this book will explain how corrup- tion in cricket works and that the answers to my questions will interest the reader as much as they have interested me.

After all of it, I will never watch a cricket match in the same way again. From across the jostling water of the creek, where five-star hotels loomed over less auspicious neighbours, came the gentle sound of revelry; the faint holler of laughter from the businessmen celeb- rating plots for a super city to rise from the desert dunes and the amiable patter of the tour- ists they hoped to lure for years to come. He had been shot from point-blank range by two men.

Shetty was taken to Sheikh Rashid hospital, where doctors declared him dead on arrival. The killing had been ordered by Mumbai un- derworld boss Chhota Rajan. In reprisals that could have been straight out of the Godfather trilogy, the adversaries had traded body bags: But Shetty was the greatest prize.

The ori- ginal slumdog millionaire, he hailed from the squalor of Jogeshwari, a seedy suburb to the south of Mumbai, where the pitiable locals use historic Hindu caves as toilets.

Growing up in the chawls — the tenement blocks stacked five high and 20 wide, offering a single room and no sanitation — Shetty had started out as a jeweller. Flesh trading, drug traf- ficking, protection rackets and hotel deals fol- lowed.

Yet muscle, murder and misappropriation were not why Shetty would gain infamy. It was two months before the World Cup in South Africa. The timing was not a coincidence. Shetty and Ibrahim had attended cricket matches in Sharjah from to It was where D-Company cut its teeth. Fittingly, like the gambler who steadily grows his staking balance to a sum sizeable enough to turn professional, the D-Company duo did the same.

In the run-up to the World Cup, Shetty was the kingpin. He never wrote any- thing down, preferring to memorise key in- formation. So the telephone numbers and con- tact details of the cricketers, particularly from India and Pakistan, bookmakers and gamblers, his pawns in the fixing game, were lost when he was murdered, meaning Ibrahim would have to start again. Yet his special- ism was matches between India and Pakistan. His commission was huge. With the fixer dead and the market seem- ingly fragmented, it was perhaps not surpris- ing that before a ball had been bowled, Lord Condon, the director of the ACSU, bragged: There will be a sensible but stringent se- curity regime in place, which will act as a ma- jor deterrent to would-be corruptors.

If there are people out there who think they are going to target the World Cup, they had better think again. But fear seeps from one end of the cricket spec- trum to the other as a result of the killing. A friend who hails from the city told me: The answers I received made it transparent that anyone who wanted to talk to the bookies of India, walk with them and understand their work, would do so with dread in their heart.

At every turn I was warned off these shadowy, underworld figures: So- mething of a statesman of the game, having travelled the world since his retirement in , he has made a career as a television ana- lyst who refused to be cowed by convention. He calls things as he sees them, no matter who it upsets. Murali Krishnan was another friend who counselled against attempts to make contact with the bookmakers. You understand that? Fear was the immovable roadblock on a journey to the subcontinent.

In the end I had little choice. They found me. They will enquire about their health. They will ask about hobbies and, lo and behold, share the same. They will express admiration for their work and, in most cases, offer a gift as an expression of their re- spect. The cricketer, vulnerable to boredom and loneliness on the international or domestic treadmill, is often flattered by the interest.

Emails, texts, Facebook messages and tweets can be exchanged. Why would they? It is a skill inherent to their trade. The ACSU call it grooming — an unpleasant term. More than that, though, they loved gambling. That was the clue.

Before a match, mostly internationals, I would post a link on cricketbetting to a bet- ting preview that would analyse the strengths and weaknesses of the respective teams, the pitch and weather conditions, the match odds and the form of individual batsmen. When the game was under way, tweets would be com- posed on much the same topics, advising on potential wagers, and predictions on what would happen next. It was, essentially, a free tipping service.

Parthiv was one of the first few hundred. He would reply to most tweets, trying to garner more information, and if I was not posting up- dates, he would take it upon himself to ask for some.

The Ashes, which England won 3—1, proved to be a profitable series and Parthiv was fulsome in his praise of my work. He wanted to download me a gift to show his gratitude. Plse accept as a gift for your tweets. U r great m8. I provided him with internet links to weather radars and the details of a gambler in Australia who special- ised in making money on the fluctuations of odds caused by players scurrying for the pavil- ion when the heavens opened.

Is that right? Jamal was the opposite of Vinay. He was a pest and rude, too, demanding opinions and answers in bad English. Until then they had appeared to be enthusiast- ic, if not obsessive, gamblers searching for an edge to win money off their local illegal book- ie. It had never crossed my mind that, in fact, they were the local illegal bookie. For months before this revelation, I had been attempting to investigate the possibility of corruption in cricket and trying to better fathom how the Indian industry operated.

With little success, it must be said. Prior to the spot-fixing case involving Pakistan, there were four in- stances which demanded a rethink.

He blamed a cocktail of party atmospheres, entertainment, cricket and celebrity. One leading bookmaker identified three matches in that competition that produced irregular bet- ting patterns on the toss.

These new customers had four-figure bets and they won every time. The paper trail is clearly visible: Information would leak out which could allow gamblers to take advantage of unsus- pecting British bookmakers. I spoke to Michael Holding, that pillar of reason, expecting him to dampen enthusiasm for a potential story. Instead he was forthright. We met at the Park Lane Hilton in London. I revealed concerns about fixing in the IPL and passed on the information about the tosses. The of- ficer gave up little in return, apart from a sense of confusion.

I took to Twitter to see if the social network could link me up with some Indian book- makers, asking contacts whether they knew of any who were willing to talk and if they could put me in touch. Parthiv, as was his wont, was first to reply: U wanna fix a match? Two more sent messages saying they could help, but nothing materialised. I suspected that had I asked whether Jamal was an astronaut, he would have replied: A quid pro quo was inevitable, although both wanted more than statistics.

Parthiv kept suggesting I use the Twitter account to provide his bookmaking business with customers, of- fering me a percentage in return. Vinay had business ideas of his own, too. He wanted to set up a webcam at each Test and one-day international venue in England and then charge bookmakers in India to subscribe to the feed.

The man was infatuated with the weather. I told him that bribery in England, and my experience of it, was limited. As appeared to be the custom of the ICC be- fore their showpiece event, an official made a statement about how the tournament would be corruption-free.

They are not seeking to make gains out of untoward means. We have measures in place, and people forget we had been tracking this [the Pakistan spot-fix affair] long before the News of the World had broken the story.

I am satisfied we will have measures in place at the World Cup. We will increase ca- pacity because we realise things do change. With Test nations playing apparently meaningless games against ICC Associate member countries — Ireland, the Netherlands, Kenya, Zimbabwe and Canada — the fixers were energised at the prospect of tempting the big teams into spot-fixes in matches which they knew they should com- fortably win, regardless of skulduggery. The format of the tournament, as it transpired, was heavily weighted in the favour of the top teams and England still managed to qualify for the next stage despite defeat by Ireland and Bangladesh.

Parthiv and Vinay were convinced there would be foul play. That is the signal. We are used to it. Last year there was a game I remember so well because it was blatant. We got a call saying there would be three continuous wides in the 15th over and it happened. Big G had been a bookie for 30 years and had started out when there was no televi- sion coverage of overseas tours. He would rely on radio reports to settle bets when India were playing in foreign climes.

He is keen to talk to you. We try to get some in- formation from the curator [the groundsman], but they are difficult to get because they are paid by their boards, but we have other con- tacts. Most probably they will be fixed. There are teams like Canada and the Netherlands play- ing against the top nations, so that market will be the best.

Say India v. We know this. There are many ways you can see it. You get a brief idea on that. Bet- ting is absolutely illegal so we have to trust everyone. All the transactions through cash. We know their contacts, how powerful they are … if a fix is on we will have been told about it and if not we know if this person comes and tries to bet we know that a fix is on.

The money tells you where the fix is. Nothing can be judged right now. But it will be happening, there is no question. That would be Pakistan, no doubt in that … They are big into fixing. At some level we have a contact with players, the evening of the game, we have their cellphone numbers.

Twice he sent me details of matches which he claimed had seen spot-fixing: He would never give a name. Here he had a one-in-two chance in getting this call right. But at least the information was received in the first two hours of play. Batting first, New Zea- land scored more than 90 runs in the last four overs. They won by runs. It seems incon- ceivable, however, that Pakistan would agree to fix a match and then lose by such a huge margin.

An interesting one, particularly as I had placed a wager myself on Sri Lanka scor- ing more than But from the 15th over they be- came rather lazy in their strokes, the run rate dropping below five an over, and it did not go above five until the 25th over. Their innings ended at India won the match by five wick- ets. This was widely reported by Indian media. They had scored 28 runs in 11 overs and 53 in 15 overs in the match at Ahmedabad on 21 February. These despatches from Parthiv, Vinay and various media outlets would have made for de- pressing reading had Big G not warned that corruption would be ever-present in the group stages.

Until the afternoon of 30 March. He penned this thought in December , two years before the Pakistan state existed and seven before they met India on a cricket field.

Orwell had a habit of being ahead of his time and that quote could have been accredited for Indo-Pak contests, which have become famed as the most bitter and intense rivalry in world sport. The animosity of these clashes is often born from the absence of conflict.

When the two are able to play against each other, it usually means they are not at war, so the desire to give the oth- er a beating on the sporting field rather than the battleground stirs extreme nationalistic fervour, the like of which the rest of us can never truly understand.

The two have known partition, three wars, deep-rooted suspicion, animosity, Jammu, Kashmir, ceasefires, terrorism, a nuclear arms race, diplomacy and attempted reconciliation. Still they do not get along. India and Pakistan have suspended cricketing relations four times, the last of which came in the wake of the Mumbai terrorist attack, which was co-ordinated from within Pakistan and carried out by Pakistanis.

Never before had they met in a game of such magnitude. The victor would not merely claim dominance in the re- gion in a sport with which both countries were obsessed, but also that their culture, religion and politics were superior. It was a war which had been fought before: In the s, when India was subjugated by Em- pire, an annual quadrangular tournament was played between a team of Hindus, Muslims, Parsis and the British.

The Punjab Cricket Association Stadium in Mohali, a suburb of the city of Chandigarh in north-west India, just miles from the Pakistan border, was the front line for the latest skirmish. A no-fly zone over its skies was ordered, an exclusion cordon set up around the stadium and bomb-disposal robots patrolled the streets. Two Chandigarh policemen were ordered to eat three meals a day with the Pakistan team, testing food for poison. There were body searches, for civil- ians and the military.

The two governments behaved as if they were the best of friends. Sonia Gandhi, the head of the Congress Party, which was part of the ruling coalition, also got a ticket. There were only 35, available and the black mar- ket buzzed. Those who would not be at the game made sure they would be in front of a television screen. It was a match to stop a subcontinent as much as it was to split one.

What of the players? Ah yes, the players, on whose shoulders rested more than a billion hopes. MS Dhoni, the India captain, was in- trospective and quiet in his press conference, for which he arrived late. Shahid Afridi, the Pakistan captain, a joker, appeared to enjoy the temperature in the pressure cooker. He was full of bonhomie. Afridi also played statesman. You all expect us to win, the whole country expects us to win. Surely they would get no change from such a game.

If any such thing hap- pens, we are going to take action. They should dedicate themselves to Pakistan for the match. There is a lot of excitement about the India—Pakistan clash in the World Cup semi-final. There is a lot of love for cricketers and we hope they will win the game for us. We expect they will not disappoint the people. The Times of India quoted a Delhi-based bookmaker thus: The television audience was expected to reach more than one billion, to make it the most watched cricketing contest in history.

The quixotic mix aside, it promised to be a thrilling occasion for the cricket enthusiast. The India team included the much-vaunted batting talents of Sachin Tendulkar, the deity known as the Little Master, Virender Sehwag, an opening batsman of the explosive capab- ility of a delinquent left alone in a fireworks factory, and Yuvraj Singh, who had previously taken six sixes from a Stuart Broad over in a Twenty20 match.

They were up against a Pakistan outfit that excelled with the ball. In the tournament each wicket Pakistan had taken had cost them Their economy rate was also superior. It was a competition of contrasts in every respect. It made for a mouthwatering betting heat, too. India were the favourites by dint of home advantage and a head-to-head record against their rivals in the country which had seen them win 17 of the 26 matches.

An excerpt read like this: They still lost though, as Pakistan chased We think India should be about 1. One should not wager unless it can be proved that the odds are incorrect and in this case they most cer- tainly were. The advantage for teams batting first made sure of that. With such a heavy pre- judice against the team batting second, the two sides had to be closer in the betting because, after all, the toss of a coin is a call.

It is quite normal for match-odds markets to dis- regard such important statistics, however. As it transpires, MS Dhoni wins the toss and chooses to bat and Pakistan immediately start to look like a bad bet.

Sehwag is start- ing fires all over the field. From the fifth and sixth, which was also a no-ball, Sehwag hits through the off side for boundary fours. The blue touchpaper is lit and Pakistan are burning.

Cherrene, despite her bloodlines, is fiercely patriotic of her upbringing and the mood in her house could be tense if England were meeting Sri Lanka: Cherrene had a habit of making jokes about the Tebbit test, the brainchild of the Conser- vative MP, Norman Tebbit, who argued that people of ethnic minorities in Britain should support the England cricket team rather the team from their country of ancestry.

She always brought top-quality biscuits and her thirst for information on the game was rarely sated. I thought I might be able to fool you with that one. A friend of the family lived and worked there for a few years and he had dreadful plumbing problems in his bathroom. A plumber would come to fix it and then within a few weeks it would break again. Finally he worked it out when he told a colleague what was going on.

He had to give the plumber a back hander. Sure enough, the next time he came around, this guy said: After the tenth over they are 73 for one with Tendulkar moving on to 23 from 25 balls.

It is ominous from the batsman. Every run he scores is met with shrill cries of delight that pierce the ears even thousands of miles away. As the score- board ticks over, a country is edged closer and closer towards hysteria. It is the perfect scenario, partic- ularly when Tendulkar is reprieved after a leg- before decision is referred and he is given not out.

The volume needs to be turned down. Far too important. Blood on their hands, Chezza. Misbah, falling towards the ball like sap blown by a strong gust of wind, allows the chance to break through his fingers. Very hard chance, too. Skipping in the air to pluck the juicy cherry from the tree, he has the morsel in his grasp for a second before it falls to the floor, spoiled and rotten.

Kamran Akmal is next. A thick outside edge cannons off his gloves. Hafeez is fuming; Afridi is ut- terly disconsolate. Instead another six balls pass and, with the innings winding down and Cherrene off mak- ing more tea, I check emails, news sites, Face- book and, finally, my Twitter account. My tim- ing was slightly off, but only just. Ten minutes previously, Parthiv had sent a message: Let me read it … oh good God!

How many have India got? At the start of the final over they are for seven. Bowled by Wahab Riaz, it goes dot ball-wicket-single- single-wicket-two. India close on Cher- rene is beside herself. I urge calm. The proof will be when Pakistan bat. Parthiv had been correct twice previously when he had messaged with information about a fix during a game.

But he had not sent anything as detailed as this. I checked the scorecard. He was wrong about India losing three wickets in the first 15 overs and his prediction was out by a single run for a total of more than This would be enough to exonerate India from wrongdoing. Had this been received from anyone other than an Indian bookmaker it would be considered a wild guess. Parthiv had form, I write, for accuracy.

The responses I receive are laden with expletives, expressing dismay that there could be any doubt about a World Cup semi-final between two such bit- ter rivals. Both of them, of course, tell me they have placed big wagers on India to go on to win the match. Feelings of excitement at the start of the match have now morphed into ones of nerves, dread and bewilderment. Cherrene is tense, too. Law of averages and all that.

Not the usual fear that a fan holds in his heart when watching a sporting contest: It is an anxiety of a totally different kind inspired by the feeling that what is being played out in front of our eyes is planned, while desperately hoping that it is not. The stomach turns; the heart sinks.

Kamran Akmal, the Pakistan opening bats- man, hits the first ball and the last ball of the first over of the reply for four. Cherrene and I exchange worried glances.

Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy

The first of many I suspect. At the end of the eighth over they are 43 for no loss, scoring at a rate of 5. Akmal is the first wicket to fall. The score is 44 for one. Asad Shafiq joins Mohammad Hafeez at the crease. Their pro- gress is serene and the clatter of wickets that we hope for does not materialise. Hafeez is out in the 16th over. The Cricinfo commentary de- scribes his wicket: Again, yet again, a lovely 30 to 40 and he has combusted.

He went for a paddle sweep, yeah a paddle sweep, to a full delivery out- side off stump and edged it to Dhoni. Oh dear. Or overconfidence? With Shafiq and Younis Khan they are cruising. Their run rate is 4. They require a further runs from 27 overs. There is no doubt they are going well. This is where we get an answer whether this thing is accurate or not. Younis takes a single from the first ball. Cherrene and I breathe a sigh of relief. So too after the second, third and fourth balls of the over, which are negotiated without alarm.

The ball is full and tempting to drive. Younis Khan is temp- ted. He throws his hands at the ball but as he does so his right leg, his back leg, flies from under him, as if tethered by a rope which someone has suddenly decided to tug sharply. Off balance and now reaching, trying to right himself in the shot, the ball hits high on the bat. It is miscued horribly.

Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy by Ed Hawkins - Read Online

Up in the air, straight into the hands of mid-off. Pakistan are for four. They have added six runs. A swift de- mise. An email from Geoffrey Riddle arrives. She gets up to make tea. It is a blessed relief that we have a relative hiatus until the next action, according to who- ever the director of this game is, takes place. I try to reassure Cherrene that it still could all prove to be wrong.

Pakistan are only four wickets down and could comfortably recover to win the match and book a final spot in Mumbai. At the end of the 27th over they are for four. Umar Akmal and Misbah-ul- Haq are the batsmen. The tension has dissipated now. The dread that we felt earlier about this fearsome tale coming true has been replaced by a disheart- ening acceptance. Cherrene and I sit glum- faced as we watch the pictures from Mohali, a doom-laden contrast with the supporters in the stadium, who wave flags and leap and shout as the match unfolds.

They are still able to re- tain the joy of a contest which is unique in its standing in the cricket world. Unique to us for a different reason. It is in a daze, rather, that we watch the match continue, as if waiting to be awoken again by an alarm bell as Pakistan approach It is Umar Ak- mal who is out, getting himself into a most un- edifying muddle against the spin bowling of Harbhajan Singh. The confusion is matched on my sofa. Abdul Razzaq is the sixth Pakistan batsman out one ball later.

Younis Khan and Misbah come in for partic- ular criticism. Younis scored 13 off 32 balls, a strike rate of Misbah scored 17 from the first 42 balls he faced, playing out 27 dots. During the 74 balls in which Younis and Misbah were at the crease together, 30 runs were scored. Shahid Afridi is the seventh Pakistan wick- et to fall, with the score on Pakistan take the powerplay in the 45th over with Mis- bah and Umar Gul, the bowler, at the crease.

When Misbah hits a four in the 48th over, Mark Nicholas, the hyperbole in his voice re- duced to a befuddled whine, says: India win by 29 runs. Misbah is the last wicket to fall.

For the first time in the broad- cast, we see a shot of the two prime ministers of India and Pakistan. Sat together, they ap- plaud politely, their emotions inscrutable. Azhar Mahmood, the former Pakistan all- rounder, working as an analyser for Sky Sports says: There was no panic. George Orwell, perhaps, was wrong.

He does not emerge from the shad- ows and, instead of skulking through the lobby doors of a hotel in Bhopal, he bounds in. His smile is broad and genuine, his handshake warm. There are estimated to be up to , bookmakers in the country. Enemies of the state and the supposed scourge of inter- national and domestic cricket, their modus op- erandi is, reportedly, violence and intimidation.

Certainly I had been gripped by apprehen- sion. Apart from Twitter messages, emails and the odd phone call to Vinay, when both of us found it difficult to comprehend what the other was trying to say, I had no idea who he really was.

I could not even be sure that he was a bookmaker, let alone trust him. My mood had not been helped by advice from Murali Krishnan, the investigative journ- alist from Delhi. When I told him of my plans, his face creased with concern. Couple of friends of mine had a beer, slipped a tablet, drugged and robbed. But Shetty was the greatest prize. The original slumdog millionaire, he hailed from the squalor of Jogeshwari, a seedy suburb to the south of Mumbai, where the pitiable locals use historic Hindu caves as toilets.

Growing up in the chawls — the tenement blocks stacked five high and 20 wide, offering a single room and no sanitation — Shetty had started out as a jeweller. He graduated to smuggling gold with Ibrahim in Flesh trading, drug trafficking, protection rackets and hotel deals followed. Yet muscle, murder and misappropriation were not why Shetty would gain infamy.

It was two months before the World Cup in South Africa. The timing was not a coincidence. With Shetty dead, Rajan would be able to get a foothold in the market. Shetty and Ibrahim had attended cricket matches in Sharjah from to It was where D-Company cut its teeth.

Fittingly, like the gambler who steadily grows his staking balance to a sum sizeable enough to turn professional, the D-Company duo did the same. In the run-up to the World Cup, Shetty was the kingpin. He never wrote anything down, preferring to memorise key information. So the telephone numbers and contact details of the cricketers, particularly from India and Pakistan, bookmakers and gamblers, his pawns in the fixing game, were lost when he was murdered, meaning Ibrahim would have to start again.

Shetty was named in the CBI report into match-fixing, commissioned following the scandal involving Hansie Cronje, and the CBI had considered issuing an international arrest warrant for his involvement: Yet his specialism was matches between India and Pakistan.

His commission was huge. India and Pakistan were slated to meet in Pool A of the tournament and Shetty had been expecting a pay day like no other. With the fixer dead and the market seemingly fragmented, it was perhaps not surprising that before a ball had been bowled, Lord Condon, the director of the ACSU, bragged: There will be a sensible but stringent security regime in place, which will act as a major deterrent to would-be corruptors.

If there are people out there who think they are going to target the World Cup, they had better think again.

The problem for Condon was that Ibrahim and Rajan remained, both energised by that murderous night in Dubai. The problem for cricket today is that Ibrahim and Rajan are still around. But fear seeps from one end of the cricket spectrum to the other. This action might not be possible to undo.

Are you sure you want to continue? Upload Sign In Join. Home Books. Save For Later. Create a List. Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy: Summary A startling and powerful journey to the very core of India's illegal bookmaking industry that exposes the scale of corruption and the match-fixing that now runs rife throughout world cricket.

Read on the Scribd mobile app Download the free Scribd mobile app to read anytime, anywhere. Bloomsbury Publishing Released: Nov 15, ISBN: Fear Chapter 3: Bookie Chapter 6: The anatomy of a fix Chapter 7: Bookie v. Punter Chapter 9: The Maidan Chapter The Taj Chapter Groomed Chapter The road to Nimbahera Chapter What does the ACSU do?

Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy: A Journey to the Heart of Cricket's Underworld

Chapter Afternoon tea with the commissioner Chapter The English disease Chapter The fix that was? Spy Chapter A sample from those tapes reads as follows: Sanjay Chawla: But you have only four with you and not anybody else?

They want 25 each. You need to. They call cricket the gentleman's game, and I grew up playing it, in alleys, on barren fields, on matting for my school and on turf pitches for my college, and the game is something i believe in - it taught me honesty, integrity and discipline, it taught me that hard work always pays and when I had the ball in my hand and ran in to bowl with the wind behind me, I became the best version of myself. And so it is for thousands like me. And that is why it has to be rooted out, exposed, annihilated.

Cricket is not the world's game. It is played only in the commonwealth and one of the major reasons for its continued relevance is a cricket crazy Indian subcontinent. The game can ill afford fixing and corruption.

Similar articles


Copyright © 2019 medical-site.info. All rights reserved.
DMCA |Contact Us