August 25, 2000 Ministry of Finance, Islamabad 10:00 Hours
Shaukat Aziz was pacing around his office, a calculator in his hand.
"Sir, I have run the numbers," Shaukat said nervously. "If we float 49% of the equity, and the team loses, the share price will crash. People will rush to the banks to sell. It will be a run on the bank. We don't have the liquidity to buy back millions of $5 shares."
I sat on his leather sofa, eating a samosa.
"Shaukat," I said, wiping my hands. "You are thinking like a Citibank executive on Wall Street. You are worrying about 'Market Sentiment' and 'Panic Selling'."
I pointed out the window at the streets of Islamabad.
"Stop thinking like a Banker. Think like a Grandmother."
The Prize Bond Logic
"Excuse me?" Shaukat blinked.
"What does every middle-class family in Pakistan and India have in their steel almirah?" I asked.
"Gold?"
"And Prize Bonds," I corrected. "Millions of rupees in Prize Bonds. Do they sell them when the economy is bad? No. They hold them. Why? Because the principal is safe, and there is a tiny, seductive chance they might win the jackpot."
I stood up and drew a new diagram on the whiteboard.
"We are not selling 'Common Stock'. We are selling '5-Year Victory Bonds'."
I outlined the rules:
Lock-in Period: The share cannot be cashed out for 5 years.
The Perk: Ownership gives you the Right to Vote on players.
The Safety: The capital is guaranteed by the State Bank.
"Shaukat, listen to the math," I said, channeling the internal auditor.
"If 10 million people buy a $5 bond, we collect $50 Million. We lock that money in a fixed deposit account at 12% interest per annum."
"That is $6 Million a year in pure interest income," I calculated. "That covers the player salaries! We haven't even sold a single ticket or TV ad yet, and the team is already profitable just by holding the public's money."
Shaukat stopped pacing. The banker in him suddenly saw the light.
"It's... a float," he whispered. "We are running a float operation. The voting fees and the ad revenue are just the cherry on top. The real money is the interest on the fan's capital."
"Exactly," I smiled. "And because they can't sell for 5 years, there is no crash. They will hold that certificate like a family heirloom. It's not an investment; it's a membership badge."
The Campaign: The War for Talent
September 10, 2000 The Launch
The marketing campaign hit the airwaves of PTV (Pakistan) and Doordarshan (India) simultaneously. It was aggressive. It was tribal.
The Ad for Mumbai Sultans: Visual: A dark, moody shot of a cricket pitch. The sound of stumps shattering. Voiceover: "Mumbai needs a Sultan. Do you want Wasim Akram to defend the Gateway of India?" Text: BUY THE BOND. CAST YOUR VOTE. BRING HIM HOME.
The Ad for Lahore Lions: Visual: A cricket ball flying out of the stadium. Voiceover: "Lahore needs a Lion. Do you want Yuvraj Singh to roar at Gaddafi Stadium?" Text: OWN THE TEAM. OWN THE VICTORY.
The Stampede September 15, 2000 State Bank of India, Connaught Place Branch, Delhi
It was chaos. But it wasn't a riot.
Thousands of people were lined up, clutching 250 Rupee notes. They weren't withdrawing money. They were depositing it.
"I want five shares for the Delhi Daredevils!" a college student shouted at the teller. "I need to vote for Shoaib Akhtar! My friends say we should buy McGrath, but they are idiots! We need speed!"
The teller, exhausted, stamped the receipt. "Next!"
Muslim Commercial Bank (MCB), Liberty Market, Lahore
The scene was identical. Old men, housewives, shopkeepers.
"Give me ten shares for Lahore," a mechanic wiped grease from his hands. "If we don't buy Yuvraj, the Karachi team will buy him. We can't let Karachi have the best hitter!"
The Result October 1, 2000 Aditya's Office
Shaukat Aziz walked in. He wasn't nervous anymore. He looked like he had just won the lottery.
"Sir," Shaukat placed the report on the desk.
"The Initial Public Offering (IPO) is oversubscribed."
"By how much?" I asked.
"By 400%."
Shaukat took a breath.
"We raised $200 Million in small denominations. The banks are overflowing with cash. The 'Float' alone will generate $24 Million a year in interest."
He looked at me with awe.
"We have fully funded the league for the next decade without spending a single dollar of government money. And... we have 40 million shareholders across the subcontinent who are now financially locked into this peace process for five years."
The Lock
I picked up the sample bond certificate. It had a golden border. It looked official. It looked valuable.
"40 million stakeholders," I murmured.
If a General in Rawalpindi or a Politician in Delhi tried to cancel the league now, they wouldn't just be cancelling a game. They would be cancelling the investments of 40 million voters.
They would be defaulting on the 'People's Bond'.
"It is done, Shaukat," I said, tossing the certificate back on the desk. "We didn't just sell cricket. We sold insurance against war."
I looked at the TV screen. The ticker showed the 'Share Price' of the Mumbai Sultans rising because rumors had leaked that they were bidding for Wasim Akram.
"Now," I smiled. "Let the voting begin. I want to see who Mumbai picks."