THE last time any American newspaper bothered to write on cricket was on India's historic tour to Pakistan in early 2004, when hacks from Sports Illustrated and Time reported on India's first trip across the border in 15 years.

Four years, on 19 Apr, the Washington Post carried a lead feature on how the a group of cheerleaders, mascots for the Redskins Football side, shook up 'Cricket in Modest India'.

The 12 girls had apparently kick-started cricket's revolution - a 44-day domestic competition with an international flavour.

Many swear that the Indian Premier League (IPL) is the greatest innovation since sliced bread, others insist that it could spell the end of cricket as we know it. Either way it's difficult to get away from the hype surrounding the tournament - a string of short three-hour contests that include a mix of Indian and foreign players.

An essential feature of cricket's evolution is the shrinking of playing time - there was a time when teams played Timeless Tests, games that went on till a winner emerged - and the newest variant is a 20-over joust, a slam-bang affair that has acquired a massive crowd appeal.

India were initially reluctant to embrace the format but an unexpected win in the Twenty20 World Cup last year proved to be the goose that laid the golden egg.

Unlike the Indian Cricket League, an informal initiative backed by the Zee Group, the IPL was a concept backed by the Indian cricket board. In January this year the auction to pick the owners fetched US$723.59 million ($985.3m), a surreal figure in cricket terms.

The franchisees come from areas previously unconnected with cricket, testifying to the sport's growing profile as a blue-chip investment in India.

Among the successful bidders were Bollywood's top stars Shah Rukh Khan and Preity Zinta, Reliance Industries - owned by Mukesh Ambani, the richest Indian, and Vijay Mallya, a flamboyant business tycoon who also owns a Formula 1 team.

Mallya was the man behind the glitzy opening ceremony in his hometown of Bangalore, an exhibition of fireworks and laser technology unlike any other seen in this country (12.5 million viewers watched it on TV).

Photos were splashed on every major national daily and television and radio stations couldn't stop raving about the IPL.

New Zealander Brendon McCullum provided the perfect launching pad for the event with a lip-smacking 13 sixes in his 158. The home supporters didn't have much to cheer but the tournament had captured everyone's imagination.

The first week provided heady theatre. In a fascinating role reversal, Bollywood stars sat in the stands to applaud cricketers who shone in the limelight. Akshay Kumar, a superstar, did stunts before Delhi's first match and Tamil hero Vijay drove the Chennai crowd into a frenzy. Preity Zinta was never too far from the cameras, watching from the stands, and Shah Rukh, the biggest superstar, and his retinue wouldn't stop dancing in the stands.

Despite the matches being played in the peak of summer, most of the games have seen packed houses. Soap operas, which normally thrive on prime time, are suddenly being threatened and some television channels even ran surveys over families increasingly fighting remote-control wars.

PANDORA'S BOX

To say the IPL has arrived might be an understatement.

Will it last over 44 days? Will the novelty value wear off? Will IPL gradually encroach upon Tests, the more traditional form of the game? Will this have a knock-on effect on traditional Indian domestic cricket, where states compete for the Ranji Trophy?

The IPL has thrown open a Pandora's Box.

On Friday, spinner Harbhajan Singh, captain of the Mumbai Indians, slapped an opposing player after a loss. He was given an 11-match suspension and fined 100 per cent of his game fee after his opponent, Shanthakumaran Sreesanth, was seen weeping on television after the attack.

Then there was an outcry about the cheerleaders.

Indian Minister of State for Home, Siddharam Mhetre described them and their dancing as 'absolutely obscene'.

'We live in India where womanhood is worshipped. How can anything obscene like this be allowed?' He asked.

Mhetre also wondered why the organisers needed 'semi-nude' women to entertain people at cricket matches.

But ultimately, it could come down to where the administrators want to draw the line.

As things stand now, the sky is the limit.

The writer is the assistant editor of cricinfo.com