Where the sport is without smear

One of the poems I read as a young schoolboy was Rabindranath Tagore's :

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

This is a very well-known poem. I am sure many Indians would have read it. This poem has always stuck in my mind. There is something pure and powerful about it - there is a cry, a yearning, a prayer, an exhortation.

I started using this to write my own version, directed at the Indian cricket team :
Where the kick is on the rear, and the pleasure is in the cry
Where, in the pain, is the glee

But then I stopped. Enough is enough. Yes, they let me and a billion others down. But there is no point playing that record again and again. All I can say is that I hope some good will come even of this pathetic performance. See, Rahul Dravid is not the only one who keeps looking for positives.

But then my mind went on to a far more serious matter. One that has far graver consequences for this wonderful sport called cricket.

Ever since the Woolmer incident, I have been disturbed. More than just disturbed - I have been distraught. I have been passionately following the game for almost 33 years - and never ever has my love for the game been shaken as much as in the last week. Even the match-fixing scandals of 1999, disgusting and stomach-churning though they were, did not manage to keep me away from the game for long. I was back because I believed that the game could not be held hostage by the actions of a few misguided persons.

Today, eight years later, I am shaken again - and this time the depths are unfathomable. Somebody has been murdered in cold blood - how much worse can it get ?

The investigations are still on - there are many stories doing the rounds. I do not want to speculate on the motive or anything to do with this ghastly and sad-beyond-description deed. I will just follow the investigation revelations closely - and hope that justice is done. Right now, my thoughts go out to the family and close friends of Mr. Woolmer. He paid for his passion for the game with his life.

What game ? One that all of us enjoy almost every single day. One that allows us to laugh, cry, scream, rant - share with our friends and other loved ones the joy of following this wonderful sport.

But the murkier side of the sport has caught up now. It threatens to no longer be the sport that billions of followers around the world (including myself) yearn for it to be. First and foremost, a sport. Competitive - of course, but still just sport.

Borrowing from Tagore's beautiful poem, I am penning some of my own thoughts here about the game I loved, love and desperately want to continue to love.

Where the sport is without smear and no one need die
Where fun is key
Where the game has not been prostituted by the commerce of money
Where performance comes out from the depths of passion
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the simple joy of team effort has not lost its way into the colder realm of personal gain
Where the mind is led forward by the spirit of collective purpose and sportsmanship

Into that heaven of awareness, my Father, let my sport (once again) awake

Amen.

A trip down nostalgia lane - Prudential World Cup 1975

It must be counted as a blessing that the World Cup comes around only once in four years. There is plenty of cricket, especially limited-overs cricket, to fill this four-year interval. If the evidence of the recent CWB triangular series is anything to go by, any series with more than six or seven games becomes too much of an ask for the audience to follow and, but for the dramatic turnaround in results towards the end of the series, most of the games leading to the finals were consigned to history almost as soon as they were done and dusted.

The World Cup, coming as it does once in four years, thankfully has no such attention concerns to worry about. Much like the Olympics and the football World Cup, far bigger sporting events around the world, the cricket World Cup has the ability to leave you with memories for a lifetime.

My first memories of any cricket World Cup are incidentally memories of the very first one – the Prudential Cup of 1975. As I have mentioned elsewhere this first edition has a special place in my heart. I was not yet in my teens then – and that meant my images of cricket and cricketers had a touch of dreaminess about them. Not a little due to my circumstances in those 70s.

I had no TV spouting cricket images at me – all I had was the sports page of the daily newspaper (more specifically, The Statesman, Calcutta edition). And the reigning sports magazine of the day, Sportsweek (edited by Khalid Ansari) with its sister publication, the World of Cricket (also known as WOC).

Of course there was radio – thank God for that. The unforgettable radio commentary of the day helped me conjure images of the action as it happened. But for the most part, it was left to my imagination to provide the moving images of a Vishy square-cut, a Gavaskar straight-drive or the armer delivery from Bedi flighted across the batsman. Any commentator can only do so much.

I am afraid I am digressing here but I cannot help thinking of how things have changed – so much for the better. Television ? Probably in the cities of India (which excluded me), that too black-and-white. And most decidedly Doordarshan.

Internet ? Inter-what ?

Those of you who have spent their entire early life without TV or Internet (and have had to scrounge for news, pictures and statistics) will be able to relate to my experiences above. For the rest (which I am sure is the far larger number), my apologies if I sound like somebody from another planet.

Coming back to the first World Cup of 1975. Whether it was my limited access to information in those days or the absence of much trumpeting about the tournament, I cannot say for sure, but I most certainly do not recall much hype around the event. Excitement yes, hype no. All I remember is this was to be the first cricket World Cup ever (sponsored by Prudential Insurance in England and therefore called the Prudential World Cup). For the next few weeks I would be totally bowled over by this event and the sports pages of the Statesman (I think there were only two in those days, maybe a World Cup special third page) would be devoured in a manner one would associate more with a famished urchin having his first meal in a week.

There were only eight teams taking part. South Africa was still facing the apartheid ban and that meant the six Test-playing nations (West Indies, Australia, India, Pakistan, England and New Zealand) would play for the Cup, together with two “associate” teams, East Africa (comprising players from Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda) and Sri Lanka (then not accorded international cricket-playing nation status).

For the record, I did not have any particular expectations from India for this World Cup. It was all a bit new at that time. That there was a World Cup happening – and all world cricketers would be playing at the same time – was enough to keep me hooked to every single match. Except for the East African and to some extent Sri Lankan players, every other name was a reasonably familiar one. And the thought of having Thommo/Lillee bowling to Lloyd/Kallicharran on the same day that the Hadlee brothers would be bowling to Sunny and Vishy a few miles away was a mesmerizing one. I know it sounds silly now but I was not used to so much cricket action at one time.

In the context of the mood at that time, that India did not even make it to the second round hardly mattered. That they got mauled by England in the opening game was hardly a surprise. The Indian players had very little experience of limited-overs international cricket - and it showed. Besides, one can only suspect that for some of the players, the memories of that depressing, demoralizing, emotionally-scarring tour of just the previous year may not have been completely erased from their minds. For me and most Indians, it was a case of déjà vu – Dennis Amiss against India, another big hundred ! India’s reply to 334/4 was 132/3 – and this in 60 overs ! I was listening to the commentary – but there was no sinking feeling during the game. My premonition about India in England, having its roots firmly in the 42 all out experience of a year earlier, had ensured that the sinking feeling would manifest itself well before the start of the game. Amiss and co. were only giving the coffin of my hopes a decent burial.

The next Indian game was about as farcical as they come. As if rising from the grave, and avenging the insult at the hands of England, India put down an East African side with a ruthlessness that I wish they had shown against their quality opposition just a few days earlier. Bishen Bedi’s figures are worthy of framing for posterity : 12-8-6-1. As Gavaskar and Engineer completed a ten-wicket win for India by knocking off the required runs without any problem whatsoever, it gave India something to celebrate – and hope too. All that stood between India and a semi-final spot was New Zealand. (England had beaten New Zealand in the league game so it was either India or New Zealand for a semi-final spot).

I remember that game against New Zealand very well. It is in games like this that you tend to get most disappointed. Not just because these are crunch games, but because you feel your side is good enough to put one across and clinch a win.

But when you are playing New Zealand, and you have managed to put up only 230 on the board, you need to get Glenn Turner out early. He was the Dennis Amiss of that New Zealand side, at least as far as India was concerned. It was a reasonably close game – but I always knew that as long as Turner was not dismissed, India would not win the game.

So that was the end of the road for India. Venkataraghavan’s captaincy had this to show – a thrashing from England, a farcical win against East Africa, a poor showing against New Zealand. Result : a first-round exit.

East Africa, duly thrashed by New Zealand and England, ensured that these two teams qualified for the semi-finals.

The games in the other group were closer games. Australia beat Pakistan – thanks to that man Dennis Lillee and you could not help feeling sorry for Sri Lanka as they were destroyed by the West Indies.

But the match of the tournament, at least before the finals, was the West Indies-Pakistan game. Pakistan had the upper hand throughout – they had scored a very respectable 266 and had West Indies on their knees on 203 for 9. And then something went terribly wrong for Pakistan. They could just not finish it off. Deryck Murray, the wicketkeeper and No.11 Andy Roberts, just hung in there – and, to everybody’s disbelief, 4 balls into the last over, they managed to knock off that winning run to send Pakistan to a shock defeat – and effectively knocked them out of the World Cup. Their last game against Sri Lanka was rendered inconsequential.

The last league game between Australia and the West Indies was also rendered inconsequential but is best remembered for one thing – a blistering Kallicharran attack on Dennis Lillee. In the course of his 78 off 83, he had a sequence of 27 off 10 (44414604) – something not particularly uncommon in today’s world but unheard of in those days.

The semi-final line-up was England up against the “old enemy” Australia while the West Indies took on New Zealand.

The England-Australia game was another classic – drama of the highest order. One man, little-known Australian swing bowler, Gary Gilmour, suddenly burst onto the scene with what must be considered the best all-round performance in a World Cup game, probably ever. He ripped apart the England batting with figures of 12-6-14-6 as England were shot out for just 93. But even that was not enough of a performance because before he knew it he was coming in to bat with Australia 39/6. It was very much England’s game at that moment but nothing could go wrong with Gilmour on that day. He was cool, collected – and with a run-a-ball rate (not that the run-rate mattered), he ensured that Australia got home with no further loss. Australia 94/6 and on their way to the finals.

The other semi-final held no such drama as it went on predictable lines. The West Indians were just too good for New Zealand and, with the help of another sparkling Kallicharran innings, also made their way comfortably to the finals.

So there it was – the match-up for the final that probably made the most sense. Australia vs the West Indies. Two star-studded sides – and it was anybody’s guess how the final would go.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man. The West Indian captain, Clive Lloyd had till then had a relatively quiet World Cup, quiet by his potentially destructive standards. But if he had to pick one innings to let himself explode, he could not have picked a better or more important one. The stage, the occasion must have all contributed to the significance of the moment for the captain as, with veteran Rohan Kanhai playing an ideal foil, he played an innings of the highest quality to get the West Indies to 291 – a fairly imposing score.

That Australia got close is due largely to their last-wicket pair of Lillee and Thomson, probably one of the best fast bowling combinations ever but hardly known for their batting. They who put on a nerve-wracking 41 runs for the last wicket – and it was only a run-out that saw them fall short of victory just when they had it in their sights. Years later, when I saw an interview of Thomson on BBC, he referred to that game and said that that run-out really hurt because they had come so close that he thought they had done the difficult bit and just needed to finish it off.

That Australia did not end up holding the Cup is down to largely one man. Viv Richards. No, it was not his batting that made a difference. Then, he was not the legend he was to become in later years. What many do not know is that in the first few years of his career (till I think he was affected by injury), Viv Richards was one of the best fielders in the world. As he showed the Australians on that day in June 1975. He effected three run-outs – opener Alan Turner (who was batting very well on 40) and the two batsmen that Australia would have depended on the most - the Chappell brothers, Ian and Greg.

It was a memorable final – in fact, it was a memorable tournament. And a huge success. The World Cup, for all the initial doubts about its viability, was there to stay.

For me personally, that World Cup was not just about a tournament but about the atmosphere, the times that were then prevalent. I have many sweet memories of cricket in those days and I guess the World Cup of 1975 just encapsulates many of those memories for me. Maybe this is what makes it so special for me. The only comparable one personally for me is the 1983 one – but that is for different reasons altogether !

I am sure each person has his favourite World Cup edition – and I will not be surprised if for many it is the one that is the first edition that they followed in their lives.

Whatever it is, each World Cup has enriched our cricketing experiences. Let us hope this one, the first being hosted in the Caribbean, is a resounding success and further adds to our rich reservoir of memories.

For players may come and players may go but these memories go on for ever.

The excitement's building up !

It is World Cup time again – and, as one would expect, the mania is sweeping the cricket world.

It is the hottest subject of discussion, squads (now announced by all participating countries) are being animatedly discussed and, as we get closer to the actual event, we can bet that betting on team and individual performances will only increase. Unfortunately, it is a reflection of the times that injuries are as much a routine headline item nowadays as the game itself.

Not a day goes by without an interview with either a coach or a player. Players who have made it to the squad talk about the excitement they feel. And players who have not, understandably more muted, wish their team-mates good luck. Players of yesteryear, now self-professed experts on everything ranging from selection to strategy, talk about what needs to happen to bring home the World Cup.

All in all, this is a great time to be a cricket fan. For many, disillusionment may be just round the corner but the journey is often as much a source of enjoyment as the destination itself.

Those of us who are true fans of this game (and that pretty much includes everybody reading this, I would expect) will know what I am talking about. The game of cricket, with its twists and turns, with its pitch conditions and weather dependencies, with its Hawkeye and consequent umpiring debates, with its economy-rates and strike-rates, lends itself very naturally to all sorts of analyses. One can rest assured that every form of analysis will be carried out in the next few weeks. Thanks to the internet, online reporting and blogging, this has become that much easier.

It is probably safe to say that World Cup fever would be highest amongst that most emotional breed of cricket fans - South Asians. Or to put it more accurately, reflecting today’s increasingly visible presence of South Asians worldwide, fans of South Asian origin wherever located on the globe. This bunch, bred on a recipe of cricket from a very early stage in their lives (in some cases, possibly as a substitute for a harder-to-obtain material need in life known as “food”)) can be counted upon to follow each game, especially those involving their home teams, ball-by-ball – with further pre- and post-match analyses.

The World Cup is being played in the Caribbean – which, if I am not mistaken, means late night viewing in South Asia, going well into the wee hours of the morning (especially if you include highlights and post-match analyses). Add to this the sleeplessness you anyway have when your team has had a bad game (or excitement when your team has had a good one) and it is a safe bet that there will be several red-eyed South Asians at work or school the next morning.

The media will do its bit to keep everybody hooked to it. The World Cup comes around once in four years and, while there are countless limited-overs tournaments played every year, everybody knows that this is the big one. Even those of us who swear by Test cricket as being the “purest” version of the game make an exception for this one tournament. World Cup performances are remembered and passed on from generation to generation – and true to style, get more legendary status as time rolls on.

I still remember the first day of the first World Cup (Prudential World Cup) of 1975 when England opener Dennis Amiss massacred the Indian bowling (poor Karsan Ghavri the most hapless bowler of them all) and Indian opener Sunil Gavaskar retaliated with a defiant, if somewhat snail-like and inadequate by galaxies, reply on India’s behalf. It was the same day that Glenn Turner, that under-rated New Zealand opener tore apart the East African attack (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda then played as East Africa) a few miles away.

It feels like yesterday. The World Cup may not have had its most auspicious opening game but, as the tournament went on, the games got better and better, closer and closer (it does not get much closer than that remarkable West Indies-Pakistan game) and by the time the semis came along – and Aussie mystery man Gary Gilmour did his magic – the tournament had caught on with the public.

The final was a magnificent game in itself, every bit fitting of a World Cup final. Clive Lloyd was majestic, Rohan Kanhai signed off with a polished half-century , Viv Richards – then yet to become the legend of later years – sparkled in the field, effecting some crucial run-outs and the last-wicket Australian pair of Lillee and Thommo, better known for their bowling partnerships, fought hard and inched close to the West Indian score, only to have their dreams shattered by, what seemed to be the most fitting manner of dismissal of the day – a run-out.

Like I have said earlier, it feels like yesterday. And it was all of 32 years ago. This inaugural edition of the World Cup will always have a special place in my heart. It was played in times that would be unrecognizable today, media coverage was nothing like it is today, the game itself was different - for example batsmen had no helmets to protect themselves - even the number of overs played was 60 compared to today’s 50. Maybe part of my nostalgia is derived from the fact that I was not even in my teens then – so I had a very different, more innocent, view of the game then than I have now.

Since then, there have been seven World Cup tournaments. Different players, different venues, different rules, different strategies, lots of expectations, some disappointments. Several memorable moments – each World Cup has just added to the memories and the excitement of being a cricket fan.

I cannot wait for this ninth edition. Whichever team wins it finally, whichever captain holds that Cup, one thing we can be assured of – lots and lots of fun and excitement.

If Rahul Dravid and his team-mates hold that Cup on the 28th of April, I will obviously be a very happy man but, in any case, it is for the fun of following the game that we come together and I would like to just wish all the teams the best of luck and say “may the best team win”.

Bring it on.

Tumble, bumble, familiar stumble

When 26 from 36 with 5 wickets in hand becomes 11 from 6 with 2, the batting side would seem to have got itself into a situation. When that side is India, you somehow get the sinking feeling that the situation is heading in one and only one direction - and that is antarctical.

I am in no mood to discuss the details of today’s game. It is pointless to discuss what went wrong for India and where. Was it the captaincy ? Was it the bowling at the death ? Was it the batting that failed to accelerate sufficiently enough to put the result beyond doubt ? Was it the fielding that looked as sharp as an elephant’s foot ? Was it because some key players were unavailable for the game ? Was it that Sri Lanka raised its game when it mattered and India could not ? Or was it just a combination of these ?

I do not know and I do not care. Every time there is a poor performance, there always seems to be an explanation of some sort for it from the team management. Like the Indian public will now be happy that the defeat has been explained, so things will be better from that moment onwards. Like the team management itself really believes whatever it is dishing out after every game as a matter of routine and conformity with media requirements.

All I know is that India had no business, NO BUSINESS, losing this game from the position it was in. That Sri Lanka stepped things up after some initial wayward bowling, that their fielding throughout was outstanding is something you have to expect from any non-minnow side. So let us not appear to be surprised by this performance by Sri Lanka.

Some suggest that these matches are just “trial” matches for evaluating players’ preparedness for the World Cup and therefore should not have much credence attached to them. I cannot entirely agree with this. While individual players may be shuffled around, finally the eleven players who make it to the field are expected to collectively demonstrate their resolve to WIN. And if India points to the absence of Yuvraj, Zaheer and Agarkar, Sri Lanka can point to the absence of Murali and Vaas for this contest. There is no point talking about individual players – let us not even go there.

As is so often the case with Indian defeats, it is not the defeat itself that is so frustrating. It is the manner of defeat that makes the Indian cricket fan feel really let down. That the Indian cricket team (or should that be the BCCI team ?) manages, time and again, to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory is something that the Indian public has got so much inured to that it would seem to have made even the Indian management blasé in their post-match discussions.

Judging by the comments from the team captain today, I could not help getting the feeling that Rahul Dravid’s comments after the game were full of platitudes and, to put it bluntly, a whole load of unrefined manure. I have a huge amount of respect for Rahul Dravid the batsman (and I have said this many times) but Rahul Dravid the captain still seems to me to have way too many question marks about him to convince me about his suitability for the role.

Here are some examples of his post-match comments today.

"We just didn't really chase well, in the sense that we kept losing wickets at regular intervals. We needed one of our set batsmen to go on and get a big score and finish the game off but we just couldn't achieve that today and it is a good lesson for us."
How many times have we heard this sort of comment ? Does it really help ? Has the Indian team EVER learnt from any defeat ?

“They fielded really well. I don't think we fielded that badly. Our outfielding was pretty good today. Some of their throwing from the deep was pretty exceptional and some of the catches towards the end there were really good. Those catches probably turned it for them at the end."
Sorry Mr. Dravid but either your standards have dropped dramatically or you are in denial.

"I wouldn't say we were complacent”.
On this comment, I am totally with you, Mr. Dravid. The team was not complacent today – it was plain incompetent.

“If one batsman can go on and get a big score, he generally ends up on the winning side”.
How’s this for a comment, Mr. Dravid ? “If one team scores more than the other team, that team (Duckworth-Lewis situations excepted) is generally the winner.”

And on Sehwag, this is what Mr. Dravid had to say :
“He batted quite well for the period he was there. I am sure he will be disappointed with the shot that he played. But he looked okay till then. It's just a question of him now trying to get that big score. Today was a good opportunity to do that, set the pace and stay and bat till the end but he got out. But he looked okay till then”.
Ever thought of joining politics, Mr. Dravid ? Or perhaps we should raise that fence a little more so that it becomes just a bit difficult to sit on it ?

This one match may not matter in the grand scheme of things. In the eternal search for those straws to clutch, one can only say that perhaps a reality check, so close to the World Cup, may not be such a bad thing after all. One can only hope that, come the World Cup, the Indian team (or should that be the BCCI team ?) raises its game to a level that when games get close, they close the game.

On the evidence of today’s game, I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Oh, those Men in Blue

After 32 years of following the game, I must have finally grown up.

I suppose when you kick off your life with a slap saying “42 all out” all over it, it is not unreasonable, with inflation and all that, to get a slap saying “100 all out” , all of 32 years later.

I (just about barely) lived through the 42. I think I will be able to live with the 100.

That I did not get to see this innings is probably a good thing. The memories would have been doubly painful if I had seen it. As it turned out, I followed the innings only on the internet.

It was supposed to be an exciting day of cricket – when the last day of the last Test of the series would go to the wire and would, in the dying moments of the day, be decided – either in England’s favour, or in India’s. Or, as many predicted – in neither’s. But it would keep us on the edge of our seats all the way.

With a professional performance to beat all professional performances, and with a similarly pathetic performance to beat all pathetic performances, the two teams, England and India, contrived to seal the series halfway through the second session of the day.

It takes a particularly inept batting display to manage to get all out for a 100 miserly runs on a none-too-difficult wicket when you are sitting on a, in retrospect, princely score of 75 for 3 at lunch. That India managed to produce one such display is as much a testament to its spinelessness as an acknowledgement of the fact that, in the world of Indian cricket, expect the unexpected to become the expected.

I had made my peace with the game well before this final day. So strangely I do not have the same sense of anger or despondency that I would normally associate with an Indian non-performance of this magnitude. Instead of venting out my anger at the Indian team, I am now in a dangerously philosophical mood. Thinking about my men in blue. But no blues about them. Just painting a vignette , in my mind, of these fortunate few who carry (and often spill) the hopes of a billion-plus people on the cricketing field.

You’ve got to feel for Rahul Dravid. For 99 Test matches he could do no wrong. And then, in what should have been the crowning match of his career, everything that could possibly go wrong for him managed to go wrong. The egg on his face must be an experience he is totally unused to.

But Dravid is bigger than one match and, Mumbai or no Mumbai, is still miles ahead of the next player in the stakes for India’s Most Valued Player award.

The same cannot be said for Tendulkar. “The higher they rise, the harder they fall” is an often-used quote in the context of fallen heroes. Ever since he stepped on a cricket field at the age of sixteen-something, all of sixteen summers ago, this man has sent the public into waves of ecstasy with his absolute mastery of the willow. To see him now struggle, in innings after innings, to put bat to ball is extremely painful for any lover of the game to accept. Whatever be the reason for Tendulkar’s fall from grace and inspite of his recent failures, make no mistake - his boots will be extremely large for any player to fill.

Virender Sehwag seems to have his work cut out for him. Less than two months ago he was carting Pakistan’s bowlers to all corners of the field on a dead wicket in Lahore. Now, in home conditions but on wickets with a little more life in them, and facing bowlers with a manic obsession to get at him, he was about as comfortable as a cat in a kennel. Although he is still far too gifted a player to be written off, it is the manner of his dismissals that are a cause of greater concern than just the drying up of runs from his bat. No, no longer can he assume that his mercurial batting, when it happens, will carry the day for him.

Yuvaraj Singh, until now largely in the shadow of his more illustrious middle-order team-mates, is finally beginning to get a reasonable stretch at Test level and being able to carve out an identity of his own. He is, without doubt, one of the more attractive and aggressive players in the side but it will be a while before he can be considered the backbone of the Indian batting – or whatever there was of it before it got broken at Mumbai.

Wasim Jaffer, returning from the wilderness, on the strength of some powerful performances on the domestic circuit, seemed at Nagpur to fully justify the faith reposed in him by the selectors. His temperament has rarely been in question, his technique unfortunately has. Whatever confidence the selectors may have had in him post-Nagpur must have been at least partly undermined by his subsequent failings and it will not be surprising if he finds himself once again out in the cold, having to work his way back into the side. It will be harsh on this man, for he probably needs a sustained run to be able to deliver some consistency at the top of the batting order. But in today’s world of Indian cricket, if you are not a star soon, your stars are not likely to be with you for long.

Gautam Gambhir will tell you that. He was a reasonable regular in the Indian side till recently but has been on the bench for the last two Test series. Not that he should be worried about this – it is not as if India has a problem of plenty for its opening slots. But when you are sitting out, match after match, it must be preying on your mind that you are missing an opportunity to show your wares and firm up your place in the side. Gambhir will surely be accorded more opportunity – and then it is upto him to make the most of each chance he gets.

Onto that man, who, second only to Saurav Ganguly, seems to attract the most extremes of opinion about himself. VVS Laxman, not so long ago one of India’s most dependable – and attractive – batsmen, has been sitting out the last two Tests, a casualty of India’s five-bowler strategy. Not that he did much in the Test he did play – in fact there is not much you can do if you get rapped on the pads off the first ball you face, plumb in front of the wicket.

I cannot help getting the feeling that Laxman is another batsman for whom bowlers have devised – and successfully executed - specific game plans. He is a delight to watch when he unleashes that silken cover drive so effortlessly or flicks the ball so delicately to the midwicket fence for four. But he is just as much a horror to watch when he is caught, totally wrong-footed, to the one that nips in sharply off the seam. It is almost as if you cannot believe you are watching the same player.

Dravid may emphasise that his partner in many a memorable stand, Laxman, is still very much a part of the Indian scheme of things but it must at least be a series-by-series, if not a match-by-match, situation for him now. Once the opposition bowlers have found you out, you really need to work on overcoming your weakness otherwise you are a sitting duck for them.

Then there is Dhoni. The more I see of this man, the more I like him. I think he is going to only get better and better. True, he played an awful shot in the second innings at Mumbai – and his keeping too slipped a bit – but he has the potential to be the keeper-batsman that India has been looking for, for a very long time. If I were Dhoni, however, I would work on my keeping – for that is the reason he is in the side and he should never forget this. Dhoni is a long-term player for India.

As is Irfan Pathan, the next player to talk about. It is hard to believe that he has had only two full years of international cricket in his career so far, such has been the influence Pathan has had on the side. Of late he has had some fairly innocuous bowling spells – something that has even caused some to doubt his bowling credentials. I think this is rubbish. Pathan came into the side as a bowler, that he has now developed into a real all-rounder is just a bonus. But he is still primarily a bowler and needs to work on improving his bag of tricks in that trade. It will be a huge loss to India if his bowling ceases to contribute to the team cause.

Anil Kumble. Considering the number of overs he bowls in every match, you cannot help feeling that he cannot sustain this for too long now. But as long as he is fit, he seems to be willing and producing the goods for his captain. As an increasing number of opposition players specifically learn how to play Kumble, his spoils may get fewer and fewer but Kumble is somebody who will give his best till the last day that he plays for his country, that much we can be sure of. And if the wickets indeed dry up for him on a regular basis, there is no shame whatsoever in bidding India’s most loyal servant over sixteen years, a fond farewell. He has done his bit – and much more – for the game and deserves the highest appreciation for his contribution to it.

Harbhajan Singh. The penultimate day of the Mumbai Test will give him a lot of confidence, because he badly needed to be in the wickets. Not that he was bowling particularly badly – he had his share of bad luck with dropped catches - but when, on a regular basis, you have nothing to show for a hard day’s work – and, what’s worse, you get fairly easily plonked all over the park, it does not take much for you to have self-doubt.

Sreesanth is one player who, in his first season in the limelight, seems to be enjoying every bit of it. On the field, he is not a shy man by any standards – and fortunately for him, so far he has the results to show for it. He has the accuracy and a reasonable pace – what worries me is whether he will be able to sustain this over an extended period of time. I have seen many Indian fast bowlers in my time – and many of them have started very impressively, only to fall away after a couple of seasons, whether due to injury or just a strange loss of performance. For India’s sake, I hope Sreesanth does not fall in this category.

Munaf Patel is the other exciting fast bowler India can now boast of. In fact his bowling in this series was a revelation – it brought tears to some Indian eyes to see, for the first time, an Indian bowler bowling toe-crushing yorkers . My comment about him is pretty much the same as that for Sreesanth – I really hope Munaf can sustain this for an extended period of time.

Both Sreesanth and Munaf need to take care of themselves. And the Indian selectors need to treasure both these players. There are many players on the bench now and there is no need to play the same players in every game, especially in one-dayers. Part of the reason for having a bench is to provide rotation possibility and the captain would do well to use this as much as possible.


Finally a word about Kaif. If Laxman has split Indian opinion into two, Kaif has not done much worse in this field. There are those who swear that Kaif has never got a fair deal. They will quote instances, like Nagpur, where even a 90 only earned him the axe as a reward. Then there are those who will quote Kaif’s somewhat average first-class average and limited penchant for mega-scores to make their case that he is not quite Test-level material.

I believe that Kaif does indeed deserve more chances. He has never had a sustained run in Test cricket. He has done well in the few chances that have come his way. Just as Yuvaraj is now establishing himself as a regular, thanks to being given a steady spot in the side, Kaif too deserves an extended run. Give him ten innings and I think he may well surprise all of us with a couple of hundreds and a few fifties. More importantly, Kaif has always impressed me as a crisis man – and heaven knows, we need a crisis man in every other innings nowadays. So if India chooses to go with a 6-batsman team, Kaif may be the man who deserves to get the nod – though it may be Laxman who actually gets it.

There are many other players out there on the horizon. It is encouraging to see bowlers like RP Singh and VRV Singh coming through. They, like Munaf and Sreesanth, are not from the traditional catchment areas for cricketers, the cities of India. They are from remote towns – where the game now seems to be capable of producing international players of their caliber. This can only be encouraging news.

All in all, this is what Indian cricket is about. These are all men of flesh and blood, no different from you and me. With their failings. You applaud them when they bring honours to your country, you curse them when they come up short on expectations. It is all part of the game.

As long as we realize that it is but a game and learn to appreciate it for what it is. When you get beaten by another team, hard though it may be, learn to appreciate that the other team may actually have been better on the day. And try to raise your standard to beat that team the next time round. That is what true sporting spirit is about.

Today, as India got beaten by England, fair and square, let us appreciate that England was by far the better side. And the better side won. True, India could have put up a much better fight - and the defeat was about as abject as it gets - but tomorrow is another day and maybe the next time these two teams meet for a Test series – in England in 2007 - it will be India dishing out similar treatment to England. It sounds very unlikely at this moment but stranger things have happened in cricket.

One lives on hope. It keeps us all passionate about the game.

Here’s to wishing Indian cricket better days (and trying to forget this one).

Anil Kumble - player and gentleman par excellence

Earlier this season Indian cricket celebrated an achievement by one of its most popular heroes, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. His hundred in the home series against Sri Lanka put him – all alone - on the top of the list of Test century-makers of all time.

Today Indian cricket has another cause for celebration. This time it is the turn of another of its popular heroes, Anil Kumble, to be felicitated. His dismissal of Steve Harmison was his 500th in Test cricket, putting him in a very select group of just four other cricketers who have reached this milestone in their careers.

Tendulkar and Kumble ply different trades but they have much in common. Both of them started their careers around 1989-90. Both of them have faced career-threatening injuries at some point in their careers. Both of them have had to carry huge expectations from the cricket-crazy Indian public everytime they have stepped on to the cricket field.

But most importantly both of them share a common ethic and attitude towards the game that makes them more than just your everyday cricketer. When they take the field, or even face the camera off it, they come across as level-headed professionals, completely dedicated to their game and the team and very modest in their statements about their own achievements.

The other cricketer, who very easily belongs to this illustrious category, is the current Indian captain, Rahul Dravid. Not only are his achievements on the field comparable with the very best but he carries himself off with great dignity off it as well.

But this piece is not about Sachin Tendulkar. It is not about Rahul Dravid either. It is all about Anil Kumble and what he means for Indian cricket.

500 wickets in a Test career is a remarkable achievement. Warne and Murali, with 600-plus wickets, and Glenn McGrath with close to 550, are ahead of Kumble but that does not, in the slightest, diminish the significance of this achievement.

My mind goes back to the days when I was a young boy. At that time there was just one bowler who had topped 300 wickets – Fred Trueman held the proud record of 307 Test wickets (The Indian record was then held by Vinoo Mankad – 162 wickets).

Soon, Lance Gibbs, the West Indian off-spinner, "huffed and puffed" (an irate Fred's words, not mine !) his way to overtake this record and ended at 309.

Since then, many cricketers have crossed the 300 mark. I have lost count.

The significance of a milestone is that it gives you an opportunity to reflect. And when that milestone is 500 Test wickets, it gives you an opportunity to reflect a lot !

Anil Kumble ! Did I ever think he would go this far in his career when I first met him in Chennai way back in 1993 ? No, honestly, I never did.

This was during the 1993 England tour to India. The Indian team was staying at the Park Sheraton Hotel in Chennai (then Madras). I happened to be a guest at the hotel at that time and ran into Anil Kumble in the lobby. He was certainly not a famous figure then. I must admit I barely recognized him. We talked a little bit about his game, about his recent tour to South Africa and I wished him all the best for the England match. It was about a five-minute conversation, not more. I remember him being very soft-spoken – something I put down to him being a virtual non-celebrity at that time. Navjot Singh Sidhu was a much bigger star at that time and I remember him being a little more vocal than Kumble.

The next time I met Anil was in 1996. The Indian team had just completed a disastrous tour to England. They stopped over in Holland for an exhibition match on their way back to India.

At the cricket ground in The Hague, the atmosphere could not have been more informal. There were only a handful of spectators for the match and most of the Indian players, after the grueling time in England, seemed to be happy to just take it easy for a change. I found myself sharing the same bench as many of the players themselves.

I was sitting on a bench with Ajay Jadeja next to me when Anil Kumble walked by. He was not playing that particular game and was just watching from the sidelines. I got into a conversation with him.

By then Kumble had become a star. He had been the biggest hope for India on that 1996 tour – and, together with Azharuddin, had been the biggest let-down as well. He was in a pensive mood when we talked. We discussed the England series and what had gone wrong, especially with his bowling. He was very honest in admitting that he had had a terrible series and that nothing had worked for him. It was not for want of trying but sometimes things just don't go your way.

He asked me about the development of cricket in Holland, about how the club-level setup was, how the grass-root interest in the game was. He came across as a very thinking cricketer, genuinely interested in knowing more about these matters.

What struck me then most about him, especially comparing this with 1993, was that he was just as soft-spoken now as he had been then. I had been wrong. Celebrity status had done nothing to affect Anil Kumble. By nature, he was a soft-spoken person. And now that he was a celebrity, I must add, very humble too.

I met a few other cricketers on that day (including captain Azharuddin). But it was Anil Kumble who left a lasting image in my mind.

Years later – in 2004 – the Indian team was in Amstelveen to play Pakistan and Australia in a one-day series. I managed to meet a number of players but the one player I did not manage to meet this time was Anil. It was definitely my loss. I would have just liked to see that smile or that glint one more time.

Anybody who knows a little bit about Indian cricket of the last fifteen years knows how much Anil Kumble has contributed to the Indian game. He has been India's biggest match-winner of all-time. The statistics are there for all to see.

He has his fair share of critics. Anybody who carries such huge expectations on his shoulders every time he goes out to bowl is bound to face criticism at some point in time or the other. Such is the unforgiving nature of Indian supporters.

I am myself guilty of this. When Kumble bowled his heart out to take eight Australian wickets in the first innings of the Sydney Test in 2003, and added another four in the second innings, all I could think about was that he failed to break the Waugh-Katich partnership which eventually denied India the game.

Such is the expectation from Anil Kumble. Such are the standards he has set for himself. It is almost as if everybody expects him to get a wicket with every delivery he bowls.

But it is much more than his bowling. It is his quiet, unobtrusive personality that is so refreshing in a time where being "loud" is almost synonymous with being "in". Kumble has always been the gentleman. He has always been humility-personified. I have never known him to be arrogant or brash.

As is to be expected, when he took his match-winning ten-in-an-innings-haul at Delhi against Pakistan some years ago, I was very happy for him. My first thought was "It could not have happened to a nicer man".

If ever there was a role-model for a youngster or an ambassador for the game, Anil Kumble is very much the part. When he leaves the game, as he one day must, his gentleman personality will be remembered just as much as his exploits on the cricket field.

Today, in celebration of his 500 wickets, there will be many accolades awarded to him. The media will be lavish in its praise of him, everybody will be reminded of his achievements over the last fifteen years. I believe all of this to be thoroughly deserved.

As for Kumble himself, he is probably thinking about the state of the Mohali game. About how he should bat tomorrow to help India out of its difficult situation. About how he should bowl second time round.

For the game is still in progress and it would be very unprofessional and very un-Kumble like to bask in his own personal glory, to lose focus and to give anything less than his fullest to the side. He will be toiling out there tomorrow, we can all be assured of that.

For him, it will be just another day in the office.

And therein lies the secret to Anil Kumble's success.

Lions at home, lambs abroad

In all the euphoria about India’s run-chase and a “missed opportunity” for the game to be closed out due to bad light, it is very easy to overlook the ground realities of this opening test of the series. Don’t let that last two-hour chase fool you. Extremely entertaining though it was, it cannot quite cover for the events of the four days that preceded it.

The fact is that most of the match was dominated by just one team – England. They were the team facing a crisis – of injuries, absentees, lack of experience, rookie captaincy. They even had to call upon their players in the West Indies to take a flight and land in India to do duty with the seniors team. In fact, if it had not been for a sporting declaration by Andrew Flintoff, England could have very well shut out and demoralized India completely.

Before the game at Nagpur, nobody gave England a chance. Not that India was the flavour of the moment, what with the Karachi defeat still fresh in many minds, but surely at home, there was no way India was going to end up second-best in a contest. The Indian batting was not exactly dependable but kingpin match-winners at home, Anil Kumble and Harbhajan Singh , would once again knock the opposition over and everything would be back to normal again.
Well, guess what ? Nothing of the sort happened. What’s more, nothing of the sort looked like happening. You can quickly bring up the misfortune of Anil Kumble on day four as evidence that he was hard done by but that would be trying to gloss over what is now fast becoming India’s worst-kept secret. And that is that somehow, somewhere, at some point in time, Indian spinners have stopped “foxing” the opposition. Yes, it hurts – for Indian spinners have been the lifeline of Indian bowling since time immemorial, doing a great job to cover up for inadequacies in the pace department.

But times change and the game changes. Opposition teams visiting the sub-continent are far better prepared nowadays than ever before. They come with specific game plans for every sort of wicket, be it a slow turner or a green wicket or even a dustbowl. They have plans for every batsman of consequence and for every bowler of relevance.

In this context, both Anil Kumble and Harbhajan Singh are open books. They are no doubt masters of their trade but they have plied this trade for long enough to have been thoroughly analysed by any opposition team.

The results are there for all to see. It has become increasingly difficult for them to run through sides, except in conditions entirely in their favour. For obvious reasons, this is not always practical. On overseas tours, wickets are prepared to local strengths and not to pamper Indian spinners. Even in India, there is a limit to which a wicket can be prepared to suit Indian spinners.

In fact, I believe it is a dangerous trend to prepare wickets for specific bowlers or types of bowlers. It demeans the remaining bowlers in the side. What message should they take from this ? That they are not expected to play a match-winning role in the game anyway ? Which bowler , with any self-respect, does not believe that he is a match-winner for his side ?

It is very common nowadays to explain away a bowler’s wicketless bowling performance on the wicket itself. Whether he is a fast bowler or a spinner, the standard comment is “he is getting no help from the wicket”. It almost sounds patronizing.

Isn’t a bowler supposed to bowl in all conditions ? Just like a batsman is supposed to bat in all conditions ?

Murali Kartik summed it up best – and completely bamboozled me with his wisdom about this subject. After the infamous Mumbai Test between India and Australia, on a dustbowl where even part-time bowler Michael Clarke bagged an embarrassing 6 for 9, Kartik was interviewed about his good performance in the game.

When asked whether he was happy that he had been given a spinning track to bowl on, Kartik surprised me (and many others I am sure) by saying “It was not difficult to take wickets on this pitch. I wish it had not been a spinning track. I would like to take wickets on normal pitches”. (Thanks, Kartik, that is what all of us have been waiting for from you – that you take wickets on normal pitches).

The point is - if you really are a master at your trade – whether as a batsman or a bowler – you will not depend on the conditions to make your task easy. You will be more than equal to the occasion, whatever it is. That is the true mark of a champion.

That is why I hold Shane Warne in such high regard. There is no doubt that he is feared on the last day of a Test match but sometimes he has been called upon to bowl even on the first day. And he, on the most dead of wickets, seems to cause the batsmen trouble. He does not turn every delivery, but he does just enough to keep the batsman guessing. And that, as any experienced batsman will tell you, is half the battle.

I am not suggesting that wickets should not assist bowlers at all. In fact, the best wickets have always been “sporting” wickets – with something in them for both batsmen and bowlers. The wickets for the first two Tests in the recent Pakistan-India series were the worst advertisement possible for the game.

It is not as if there have not been wickets reputed for specific types of bowling in the past. The WACA at Perth has always been a fast bowler’s paradise, as was Sabina Park at Kingston, Jamaica till the early 90s. The Chepauk stadium at Chennai (Madras) was the fastest wicket in India in the 70s and was, thanks to Andy Roberts of the West Indies, scene to some of the best fast bowling ever seen in India. Similarly the Sydney Cricket Ground has, for long, had a reputation to help spinners.

But I cannot recall anytime in the years that I have been following the game where there has been such an obsession with developing home pitches for specific advantage. Nowadays an inordinate amount of pre-match time seems to go into just discussion about pitches and how much the grass should be cut to favour which bowler. In the past, if at all there was a discussion on this, it would usually be an in-match discussion about a captain’s choice of using the heavy roller or the light roller.

Perhaps this is just another indication of how the game has changed. Use every weapon in your armoury to beat the opposition – and if you are having a home series, why not tailor-make your wickets to suit your bowlers and batsmen.

This probably applies not just to India but to other countries as well. But there is no doubt that India is well and truly obsessed with this.

I have no doubt that the Indian batsmen will do splendidly in the remaining Tests of this series. England, most unexpectedly, has fired the first salvo. With the entire country’s support, the Indian team will raise its level and fire back. The wickets will be doctored to the Indian team management’s specifications. The series will be won (or at worst, drawn with huge scores from the Indian batsmen).

And, on the surface, all will be well.

The ineffectiveness of our spin bowling will be conveniently forgotten.

The inability of our world-class batsmen to play nipping inswingers will be conveniently forgotten.

And I will continue with my disillusionment at seeing lions being created at home to become lambs abroad.

Oh, for another Karachi !