An Incredible Journey - of the Indian team's remarkable metamorphosis

As much as a Tendulkar century – what would have been his hundredth in international cricket – in a victorious final would have provided the World Cup with a fairytale ending that the gods would have savoured, I’m pleased, in some ways, that the win was achieved by a thorough team effort. The most remarkable aspect of India’s World Cup victory is that in its seven wins in the competition, only three games contained noteworthy individual milestones – Virender Sehwag’s and Virat Kohli’s hundreds against Bangladesh, Yuvraj Singh’s century against the West Indies and his five-for against the Netherlands. As World Cups go in terms of personal landmarks of statistical virtues, this was by no means India’s best. But its metamorphosis into a team that can play like a ‘Team’ has meant that a lack of such highlights has scarcely affected its overall performance.

Ricky Ponting and Mahela Jayawardene conjured centuries of differing style if equally fine merit in the quarter-final and final respectively, but India emerged as the winner on both these occasions without any of its batsmen reaching the three figure mark or any of its bowlers scalping a substantial portion of the wickets. Likewise against Pakistan in the semi-final, it was an amalgam of exceptional fielding from almost every member of the team and a collectively excellent performance from all the bowlers that won India the tie. This is in stark contrast to the World Cups between 1983 and now, in which the team has relied, almost solely, on individual performances for success.

In 1987 as defending champions, playing at home, India was a much-fancied team, but in the semi-final against England, the bowlers wilted, allowing Graham Gooch to sweep his way to a marvellous 115 and in reply, barring a fine, stylish hand from Mohammad Azharuddin the team yielded without a whimper. In 1992, India failed to make the semi-finals, with its victory against Pakistan – a team to which it has never lost in World Cups – the only bright spark. In the next edition, held in the sub-continent, India was amongst the favourites, even though the side was virtually a one-man army, which was perhaps the cause of its undoing. Sachin Tendulkar had a magnificent tournament, but when he fell for 65 against Sri Lanka in the semi-final, the team capitulated under the pressure of the chase, albeit on a deteriorating Eden Gardens wicket.

1999 again contained many moments of individual brilliance – most notably Rahul Dravid’s and Sourav Ganguly’s partnership against the Lankans at Taunton and Tendulkar’s hundred against Kenya, a day after he had returned from India to complete his father’s funeral, but the team lacking in verve and imagination, succumbed in the decisive fixtures. It defeated only Pakistan in the Super-Six, failing to qualify for the semi-finals.

In 2003, no doubt, India had an excellent tournament. But in the final it surrendered to a combination of a masterful showing from Australia and its own lack of command over the situation – blatant over-excitement amongst the players, exemplified by that infamous first over from Zaheer Khan. Inside the opening exchanges of the game, India had the wind knocked out of its sails.

Four years down in 2007, the World Cup was altogether forgettable, memorable neither for notable individual showings nor for the team’s performance – an embarrassing exit ensuing at the Group stage.

The recently concluded World Cup, though, as I mentioned earlier, may not have contained many moments of statistical individual brilliance, but in displaying wonderful skills collectively, the team has, as a group, captured our imagination. In the tournaments between 1983 and 2011, what we remember are those solo displays – whether it be Tendulkar’s 97 against Pakistan in 2003, Ganguly’s and Dravid’s partnership at Taunton in 1999, Ashish Nehra’s 6 for 23 against England in 2003, possibly even Sunil Gavaskar’s only ODI century, a 103 that came, wonder of wonders off a mere 88 balls against New Zealand in 1987, to name a few. But in the years to come, when we look back upon the triumphant 2011 campaign, it is perhaps the team as a collective which we will remember – an incredible achievement indeed.

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/an-incredible-journey]

M.S. Dhoni - An Appreciation

It isn’t every day that we get to see greatness unfold before our eyes. At the Wankhede Stadium yesterday, Mahendra Singh Dhoni, confronted it, toyed with it and irrepressibly grabbed it to enter the temple of heavens and with it took a place in the pantheon of World Cup winning captains.

The hallmark of a great sportsman lies in his sense of timing – his ability to churn out his best when it’s most needed. Up until the Final, Dhoni’s scores meandered around the mediocre, his captaincy was adequate if not inspiring – with his choices concerning the selection (or non selection) of R. Ashwin, particularly coming under intense criticism. But stand by his decisions he did, and come the final, he seized greatness with nerveless serenity.

When Virat Kohli fell to a quite magnificent return catch by Tilakaratne Dilshan, Yuvraj Singh – later to be declared the man of the tournament – was expected to walk in. But, Dhoni, not a single feeble thought in his mind, strode in to the middle and clutched the initiative in an inspired and brilliant partnership with Gautam Gambhir. Gambhir, who had till that point, in company with Kohli, nudged and nurdled away at the Sri Lankan total, was reinvigorated by Dhoni’s presence. Together the pair found gaps in the field against the spinners with remarkable precision and ran between the wickets like a dream.

Muttiah Muralitharan – Sri Lanka’s champion spinner playing his last international game – and Lasith Malinga – who had accounted for both the Indian openers – were treated with adequate respect if not complete reverence. When Murali erred, though, Dhoni punished. In fact, the off-spinner was hit for three boundaries by Dhoni, each of them crashed through the offside with extraordinary accuracy.

When Gambhir, fell three runs short of what would have been a hugely memorable century, Dhoni was joined by Yuvraj with 52 runs required off as many balls. But the pair went about the rest of the chase with commanding assurance. In the first ball of the 43^rd over, Dhoni slashed Thisara Perera over point for a brutal six – the noise of which continues to reverberate in my ear. In the 48^th over, with 16 runs still required, he dealt to Malinga, perhaps, the cruellest blow he has received all tournament – a brace of astonishingly powerful whips to the long leg boundary.

And then in second ball of the next over came The Moment – the winning runs – a moment of untainted ecstasy. The victory settled by another violent blow from Dhoni’s blade off Nuwan Kulasekara – the bat coming through in its unusual yet hugely effective arc and striking the delivery with astounding fury. Even as the ball was deposited into the stands, and with Yuvraj Singh rushing to embrace him, Dhoni stood there eyes glazed, just for a jiffy, until the enormity of it all began to sink in. Yet there weren’t any histrionics from him – as if the moment was always inevitable. He clinched greatness over the course of his beautifully paced innings, but the cherry on top of it – that glorious swoosh for the win – will remain captured in a perpetual mesh of delight.

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/m-s-dhoni-an-appreciation]

The Semifinal

In this fine piece on perceptions of the great Ayrton Senna, Emma John says that it is often difficult for us, especially in today’s age where “perspective is a disappearing commodity...to see sporting events outside the prism of our own fan narrative, to realise that the stories around which we base our identities have been moulded and cannibalised by our personal experience of winning or losing.”

Now that the dust has begun to settle, though, on India’s victory against Pakistan yesterday, it may be time to release the fervour which was draped around us and look at the game from outside the prism of our fan narrative, as challenging a task as this may prove to be. The game admittedly took a shape that went beyond the realms of sport – what with the prime ministers of the two nations choosing this as the occasion to break their countries’ diplomatic deadlock. As it turned out, it was as much an occasion for fans of extravaganza of any kind as it was for fans of the sport – the cheers that Aamir Khan got even as some of the cricketers were going about their motions in the build up to the game was mildly sickening. But its every man for himself I suppose – who am I to pass judgments on the degrees and boundaries of fandom? What I can say, though, is that for all the hullabaloo and in spite of the appreciable importance of India’s triumph, I may probably remember close to diddly-squat about this match in the years to come.

As I reflected on the game today, I couldn’t help but note that there was nothing particularly special about the victory. The quality of the cricket wasn’t at any admirable standard and, perhaps, a few years from now this game, devoid as it was of outstanding moments, will be eradicated from memory. The 1996 quarter-final and for that matter the meeting in 2003 between these teams, though, will conceivably be etched forever in my mind. Ajay Jadeja’s slog-over heroics and that celebrated delivery from Venkatesh Prasad to dislodge Aamir Sohail’s off-stump a ball after he was unleashed with a mouthful of vitriol from the batsman are indelible moments. Likewise, Sachin Tendulkar’s brutal assault at Centurion in 2003 against a bowling attack composed of Shoaib Akhtar, Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram, in a game played on the backdrop of boiling political differences between the nations will remain amongst the finest World Cup moments. Those three Tendulkar strokes in Akhtar’s opening over for 14 thrilling runs represents a moment of peerless genius.

Yesterday, though, from an Indian perspective there was little of outstanding note. Had Pakistan won, maybe the game would have been remembered for the inspired and quite astonishing spell of swing bowling from Wahab Riaz. As it turned out Riaz’s performance, easily the game’s best individual act was not even good enough to bring him the man-of-the-match award. Instead, Tendulkar, dropped on four occasions en route to a scratchy 85 – possibly one of his worst ODI half centuries – bagged the honours. Thank heavens, though, that this was not the day for his hundredth hundred. India’s batting barring Virender Sehwag’s explosive start and Suresh Raina’s fine hand at the end was largely insipid and stripped out of its character by the superb Riaz.

In response, Pakistan began brightly, but as is so often the case with it, it somehow contrived to gift wicket after wicket to the Indians. Mohammad Hafeez, Asad Shafiq, and Younis Khan all fell to innocuous deliveries. Misbah ul Haq dawdled around for eternity, leaving it far too late for the final assault. No doubt, Munaf Patel and Ashish Nehra – whose inclusion in the Eleven ahead of R. Ashwin seemed inexplicable – bowled disciplined spells and M.S. Dhoni captained with typical calmness if not panache, but the game lacked a performance of singular brilliance – an unforgettable act of distinction.

It remains, however, a victory for India over Pakistan, that too in a World Cup semi-final – up until now the highest round in which the teams have ever met in the competition. The histrionic pre-game build-up was more incredible than any in recent memory. The victory celebrations lived up to the game’s billing – firecrackers were set alight across the country. Maybe it’s the occasion which we will remember in the years to come and not so much the cricket. But by any account, it will count for nigh-on nothing if India is to come a cropper at Mumbai on Saturday.

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/the-semifinal]

Let's not go all Moral over Tendulkar's Walk

On Sunday 45000 people crammed into Chepauk to witness what they perceived would be a divine experience. When Sachin Tendulkar walked back into the pavilion ninety eight runs short of what would have been his hundredth hundred, the silence was almost resonant. Some would argue that by walking off the field before umpire Steve Davies could lift his finger – the general conjecture is that the decision would have gone the batsman’s way – a celestial experience is exactly what they got. But cricket, as Andy Bull rightly points out in this week’s Spin – Guardian’s weekly cricket column – is a game of skewed morals. The ethical code in cricket, Bull says, “exists in shades of grey rather than black and white.” Indeed a day before India’s game against the West Indies, Ricky Ponting having blatantly edged one to Kamran Akmal against Pakistan stood his ground, until umpire Marais Erasmus’s decision was overturned via the UDRS. Ponting has never been a walker and he makes no bones about it – “If I get a nick behind to the keeper, then I stand there until the umpire makes a decision.”

But before I get to the morality of the issue of walking or the aspect of decisions balancing themselves out over the course of a cricketer’s career, it is important to point out that Tendulkar hasn’t always been a walker. To exalt his decision to walk against the West Indies as a saintly act would, therefore, be a statement steeped in misconceptions. As Sourav Ganguly remarked in an interview with a television channel, “Sachin has never done that in the past, let's be honest, and he shouldn't because there have been times when he has been given out and he was not out.” The headlines in many Indian newspapers, such as the Times of India, which read “Sachin Tendulkar puts integrity above quest for 100th ton;” the Deccan Herald, which expressed his decision as “Walking tall on the cricketing pitch” and the Hindustan Times, which said that this was “another instance of the high standards he has set for himself,” are all not even worth the price of paper on which they’ve been printed. There have been numerous instances when Tendulkar has been happy to wait for the umpire’s decision; carrying on, in fact, had the decision wrongly gone in his favour. So let’s not idolize inconsistent acts and lose track of the distorted moralities of cricket.

The broad conception that has developed in recent years, particularly on the back of Adam Gilchrist’s decision to walk in a World Cup semi-final – it may also be worthwhile to point out that Gilchrist himself has failed to walk on odd occasions – is that it is the prerogative of the individual to choose whether to walk and that morality doesn’t dictate such actions. But the fact remains that cricket, albeit a game littered with individual statistics, is a team sport. Had Virat Kohli, who batted at one-drop, got a clanger from Steve Davis, I am not sure the Indian team would have been best pleased with Tendulkar. As Ganguly said in the same T.V. interview, “It could be a big game, India 100 for three, Tendulkar batting on 55 and holding the key to India's success. I would really not want him to walk unless an umpire has given him out.” A cricketer's decision to walk does affect the performance of his team and therefore to consign the choice as purely the prerogative of the individual is scarcely in the interest of the sport.

Further, a person's move to walk could impact an umpire’s decision-making. If a batsman renowned to be a walker stays his ground when he has, in fact, edged a ball even if he is honestly unaware of it, psychologically the umpire may think – hang on, this fellow usually walks, so he surely couldn't have edged it and rules, wrongly, in favour of the batsman. No doubt it is the umpire’s job to look beyond such possibilities and make decisions purely on the basis of what he sees. But that said I find it difficult to imagine that umpires, being only human, are unaffected by such psychological considerations. The game would be richer I believe if everyone did their own jobs without aiming to claim a moral high ground.

(Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/lets-not-go-all-moral-over-tendulkars-walk)

Of Aesthetics and Amla

We watch sports for a variety of reasons, some of which are detailed exquisitely in this series by the football blog, Run of Play. In part two of the series, the author speaks of our proclivity for the aesthetic – which in our world is represented through ‘painting, music, and dance.’ He says in football, aestheticism is often found in amalgam with reality – ‘unlike a ballet, it has no predetermined plan or outcome.’ This is of course as true for cricket as it is, perhaps, for all sports. A beautiful cover-drive is made that much more attractive by its connection to reality – the fact that it is unfolding live before our eyes. Our search for beauty therefore often finds validation in the world of sport.

Aesthetics, though, is not a blanket concept. What constitutes beauty is fundamentally in the eyes of the beholder. Any analysis, therefore, on the beauty of a given stroke or a batsman’s style is mostly subjective – I am sure someone out there takes immense pleasure in watching Simon Katich, Shivnarine Chanderpaul or god forbid Graeme Smith play. (Incidentally they are all left-handed batsmen, a breed generally considered more aesthetically appealing)

But does appreciation of beauty have to be natural or is it something that can be constructed? Can we grow to enjoy a certain style as the aesthetics of it begins to impose its beauty – an acquired taste, if you will? Largely, I believe first impressions are the most lasting. I must have fallen in love with Damien Martyn’s batting, for instance, the first time I saw him hit one of those crisp and pristine square drives. With Hashim Amla’s batting, though, this has certainly not been the case.

For the longest time, ever since Amla began to wield a bat in international cricket, I found his style inelegant, gawky even. Indeed, after an inauspicious beginning to his career, he slowly began to make runs in heaps. Yet, I remained doggedly unimpressed, not by his effectiveness mind you, but by his mode of run-getting, which somehow appeared graceless. He seemed to, no doubt, ooze this Zen like serenity at the crease, but the double arced back-lift – he drags the bat back twice, before striking the ball – and an excessive flourish of the wrist, I felt, was ungainly.

Over the last couple of years, though, even as Amla has plundered almost every bowling attack in every format of the game, my opinion has wavered. At times, I find myself in awe of his abilities – his drives through the off-side often timed and placed to perfection can be breathtaking to behold. Yet, now and again, the same drive, timed and placed just as well can look clunky. And even more bizarrely, in the ongoing World Cup, Amla has looked at his most elegant in his knocks of 42 against England, 61 against India and 51 against Bangladesh, while he has looked rather uneasy in his century at Mohali against the Netherlands.

Where then on the aesthetic pedestal is Amla placed? Quite honestly, I continue to grapple with the question. It seems Amla’s batting polarises opinion more than any other’s. Some find it utterly gorgeous, while others cannot stand to watch it. What I do know is that on many occasions, he can make batting look ridiculously easy – as he did at Chepauk against England on a landmine of a pitch before playing onto his stumps an innocuous delivery from Stuart Broad – a dismissal that opened the floodgates for a South African collapse. Till the point of his ouster, though, Amla had batted with sagacious tranquillity – unperturbed it seemed by the demons on the pitch. So even if his stroke-play can generate a mixture of either aesthetic delectation or aesthetic torment, his disposition at the crease will always remain a joyous sight.

(Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/of-aesthetics-and-amla)

Confidence Boosting Victory for the Proteas

The thriller between India and South Africa contained many moments worthy of consideration as the chief turning point, the moment that tipped the balance in South Africa’s favour. Some would say India’s astonishing batting collapse aided no small measure by an inspired spell from Dale Steyn (five for 50) that saw it reduced from 267 for one to 296 all-out, represents that moment. Others would point to South Africa’s batting power-play in which it conjured 52 runs for the loss of only one wicket. India’s captain M.S. Dhoni, reckons South Africa’s fielding made the crucial difference – saved it at least 15 runs in his opinion. Maybe it was the Proteas’ approach to the chase – steady at the top with the fireworks following later that proved telling. But in truth, rarely is one single moment or phase of the game responsible for its outcome. Yesterday the sum total of India’s efforts in the field simply failed to weigh up. Mistakes were made, no doubt, but this is no disaster. The team needs to consider its frailties, endeavour to correct them and get on with its game.

More crucial, though, in the larger scheme of this World Cup is the confidence that South Africa may derive out of this victory. Having choked itself out of many World Cups in the past, the climax of this chase would have done little to sooth its nerves, but the result could banish many a demon from its players’ minds. With 13 to get off the last over, and with the team’s spine-tingling defeat against England fresh in memory, the prospect of a cruel World Cup exit would have been at the forefront of their thoughts. But Robin Peterson in flaying Ashish Nehra – albeit aided by a fortuitous inside edge off the first ball – ensured a South African victory that was far in keeping from its usual form at such crucial junctures. The chase could give the Proteas not only a faith in its talents, but could also ensure that it evades Australia – so often its nemesis – in the quarter-finals.

South Africa has been perennial World Cup underachievers. It has gone into virtually every edition since it made its debut in the tournament in 1992 as one of the favourites, only to come undone either by nasty bits of luck or a failure to hold its nerves at the most decisive of occasions. On the back of its failure to chase down 171 against England in an admittedly difficult wicket at Chepauk last week, its pursuit at Nagpur yesterday invoked several déjà vu moments, not least when Johan Botha having hammered 23 of 15 deliveries fell with 17 runs left to get. What transpired though was a rare piece of brilliance from Peterson.

Had Peterson and South Africa failed to cross the line, this may well have represented the end of the road for the country in this World Cup. No doubt its remaining two fixtures look easy enough on paper, but if it had been forced to play Ireland – a team that, if nothing else, has showcased that it belongs at this level – and Bangladesh – never an easy proposition in its own home – on the back of a defeat to India, it may have been left clutching at straws. As it stands, though, its remarkable chase against India may not only give it the impetus to top its Group but the confidence to win games under pressure in the knockout rounds. Ominous signs, indeed.

(Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/confidence-boosting-victory-for-the-proteas)

The genius of Sachin Tendulkar

‘Talent hits a target no one else can hit; Genius hits a target no one else can see’. These are the famous words of the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, and as I watched Sachin Tendulkar fashion a magnificent century against England at the Chinnaswamy stadium, they seemed most apposite. Of course, England’s bowling was mediocre, at best, and later in the day Andrew Strauss matched and perhaps bettered Tendulkar’s innings; yet it seemed Tendulkar was the real genius.

But this begs the question as to what constitutes genius? Is there at all a place for the word in the world of sport, where its usage is hackneyed – often employed even to describe the banal and the pedantic? Teresa Lacerda and Stephen Mumford in an outstanding article in the Journal of Philosophy on Sport – yes there does exist something of its ilk – argue that while in art, the genius “innovates some new technique, movement or style”, in sport, “the genius is one who creates new sporting strategies that tend toward competitive success.”

To me, genius is a mastery of space, achieved through intuition – an exertion of one’s will over another. Throughout history man has been fascinated by space and philosophers great and meek have theorized on its forms. The German philosopher, Immanuel Kant, wrote in Critique of Pure Reason that space is an a priori form – something intuitive from which knowledge is later gained. Kant’s work may have come under intense criticism, but in many ways his theory on space finds embodiment in the world of sport and nowhere more perfectly than in the batting of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

As Tendulkar carved gaps in the field that even to the probing eye seemed non-existent, my father, with whom I was watching the game, opined that this was down to pure providence. Placement of such precision, he said, cannot be calculated. Yet, I thought, it was this innate ability of Tendulkar’s that sets him apart from the rest. His knowledge of where the spaces in the field were seemed utterly intuitive and not least bit manufactured. The works of a genius are rarely explicable and as Kant argued, even the genius is himself often unaware of how his idea was conceived. I am sure Lionel Messi would not have an answer to how he dribbles past maze after maze of defenders like they never existed. Genius is vague and enigmatic and therein lies its beauty.

Matthew Syed in his book, ‘Bounce: How Champions are Made,’ uses the Malcolm Gladwell line of thought and argues that talent is overrated; a person acquires command of a skill through purposeful practice for a period of at least 10,000 hours. Tendulkar in his rigorous sessions at the dusty Sivaji Park in Mumbai where he learned the game would have undoubtedly lapped up these hours well before his teenage years. But it is difficult to believe that at the core of his achievements are not his inherent gifts but the strenuous and committed practice of the art. The intense coaching and painstaking training must have surely contributed towards the thriving of his genius, but they most certainly cannot account for its creation.

As he twists his wrists to find the minutest of gaps that leave the opposition and the spectators gaping in awe, Tendulkar himself I doubt is aware of the gravity of his accomplishment. This intrinsic gift, though, is only but an element in his genius. To him creativity bears no boundaries. In a career of over twenty years, he has been faced with the need to constantly innovate; to change his game to suit the demands of the time. But this burden has rested easy on his shoulders. Creativity comes intuitively to Tendulkar. The double-hundred in Sydney in 2004, where he famously shunned the cover-drive was by itself a manifestation of his force – an ability to eschew the natural as an inventive answer to the necessities of the situation.

The sustenance of his talents for more than two decades is, perhaps, the greatest element in Tendulkar’s genius. By meeting the need to create in every step along the way, he has imposed his will like no other – an imperious mastery of space by a true genius.

(Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/the-genius-of-sachin-tendulkar)

India versus England - gripping, yet flawed

As narratives go, the tie at the Chinnaswamy Stadium in Bangalore between India and England was as compelling as any. The sides scored 338 runs each in a match that remained on tenterhooks for much of its duration – especially in the final over in which England needed 14 runs to secure victory – and gave this World Cup its first thriller. But let’s not get carried away in the resonance of the tale – by calling it a great game – and ignore the teams’ respective deficiencies that was, in the first place, responsible for providing the game with the grip that enraptured the viewers. No doubt, the batting from both sides made for a fantastic sight – but the plaudits must be tempered in light of the poor quality of bowling and fielding that was on display.

We watch sport for a variety of reasons and a riveting story is often what we search for. In that sense, this game fulfilled our needs – constantly remaining on a knife-edge. But when you cut through the brilliance – admittedly there was a lot of that, especially from the two centurions, Sachin Tendulkar and Andrew Strauss – you are left to grapple with lots of dismal performances in the field. Easy catches were dropped, misfields were aplenty, the lines from the bowlers – barring Tim Bresnan – were wayward and the captaincy and the field settings from both M.S. Dhoni and Strauss lacked verve and imagination. All of this, while contributing heavily to the narrative, certainly did not make for pretty viewing. So to say that the contest was ‘a perfect advertisement’ for the one-day game – which it may well be, considering the general obsession with runs – veils the quality that both teams lacked.

On current form, regardless of their batting prowess, it looks unlikely that either India or England will be in contention towards the end of the tournament. Unlike test-matches, one-day games can, no doubt, be won on the strength, purely, of a team’s batting. But World Cups tend to be different – might in a single department has never been sufficient to lift the trophy. At least England was missing Stuart Broad, who is easily its best limited overs bowler. India had no such excuses. Its bowling – barring a brief yet stirring spell from Zaheer Khan – was uninspired and consistently poor, outdone in its sloppiness only by the fielding. India must, therefore, consider the option of playing five bowlers, a buffer that is necessary on sub-continental pitches for teams lacking sufficient bowling quality – an option that is particularly viable in India’s case, considering the strength of its batting. This would, of course, mean that one of Virat Kohli, Yuvraj Singh, Gautam Gambhir or Yusuf Pathan would have to be excluded; not an easy decision by any means. But the exigency of the situation calls for a bold move and in view of the form of Kohli (not to mention his fielding skills), Yuvraj’s usefulness with the ball and Pathan’s undeniable match-winning abilities, it may well have to be Gambhir who makes way.

Gambhir is a fine one-day batsman, whose worth to the team is undeniable. Yet, in a squad filled with as many batting stars as India’s is, it is inevitable that one of them will have to miss out. India could learn from Spain’s football team, which for much of the 2010 World Cup, started without Cesc Fabregas, favouring the more defence minded Sergio Busquets in the interests of team-balance. Winning a World Cup is no easy feat. And it certainly won’t be possible if sentiment is preferred over pragmatism.

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/india-versus-england-gripping-yet-flawed]

Dutch Dazzle brings World Cup to Life

Set in the backdrop of the I.C.C.’s decision to reduce the World Cup in 2015 to ten nations, the Netherlands’ showing against England at Nagpur yesterday glimmered brighter than their jerseys. Hopelessly poor defeats suffered by Kenya, Canada and Zimbabwe may have provided an element of justification to the decision to exclude the Associate teams – or the ‘minnows’ as they have come to be known – from the next World Cup. But the pitfalls of the ongoing tournament are not a product of the inclusion of these teams, but its format – the tedious two grouped layout – which has been designed solely to ensure that the big teams make it through to the latter rounds. India and Pakistan were both famously knocked out by lesser sides in the Group Stage in West Indies in 2007 and the I.C.C. clearly did not want a repeat of such a commercial catastrophe – the result, a format that denies the viewers of a consistently riveting tournament. But I’d rather see the present format retained than the incorporation of a system that excludes the Associate Nations. Removing the Kenya’s and the Netherlands’ from future World Cups would undeniably strip the event of some of its greatest mirth – of what joy would a World Cup be without the prospect of a mighty upset?

And the prospect of a mighty upset, yesterday, was what provided the ongoing World Cup with its first dash of allure. No doubt the track at Nagpur was placid, the English bowling hapless and their fielding disgraceful, but a sparkling batting performance by the Dutch unquestionably provided the delight and the merry that the ongoing tournament has thus far lacked. And by making the chase difficult for England, the Dutch ensured that the game remained tantalisingly poised for much of its duration.

At the core of the Netherlands’ excellence was a marvellous all-round showing by Ryan ten Doeschate, who scored 119 off 100 balls with the bat and just as importantly bowled with purpose and economy, finishing with figures of 2 for 47 from his ten overs. As all-round performances in World Cup games go, this is up there with the very best – the Imran Khans and the Kapil Devs would have been proud of a display of this ilk.

Coming into bat at 58-2, ten Doeschate took eleven balls to get off the mark, but not once during the period did he look ruffled, giving the impression of a man utterly confident of his talents. Once he got rolling, he set about his task with breezy ebullience, displaying a particular proclivity for the cow-corner, repeatedly finding either the gap between wide long-on and deep midwicket or the stands behind the fencing. The innings was by no means chanceless – James Anderson at long-on and Kevin Pietersen at long-off allowed a skier when, ten Doeschate was on 47, to fall smack between them – but it was paced to perfection. There was a time when Graeme Swann and Paul Collingwood operating in tandem allowed the batsmen little leeway to play a forceful shot, but ten Doeschate remained serenely disposed, knowing that his time will come. And when Andrew Strauss brought on Pietersen, in collaboration with his batting partner at the time, Tom Cooper, the off-spinner was ripped apart, taken for nineteen runs off his two overs.

After the loss of Cooper and Bas Zuiderant – one of the survivors from the 1996 World Cup – ten Doeschate began to up the run-rate, striking boundaries as and when he pleased. A flick off Graeme Swann for six over midwicket – easily England’s best bowler of the game – showcased the excellence of his timing and the suppleness of his wrists.

The very best batsmen often appear to possess a lot of time to play their strokes – ten Doeschate is no different, possessing an ability to alter his shots at the final moment. After his partnership of 64 runs with Tom de Grooth came to an end in the first over of the batting power-play, he ensured that the field restrictions did not go unutilised, plundering the English attack with disdainful alacrity. His century came courtesy an overthrow from Jonathan Trott that ricocheted off the stumps onto the boundary – an anticlimactic completion of a glorious landmark. After ten Doeschate fell to Stuart Broad for 119, the Dutch aided by some clever batting from their captain Peter Borren and some inept fielding from the English ended their innings on 292. Borren bowled by Stuart Broad in the 49th over was allowed to stay on the field as England had only three fielders inside the 30 yard circle, an incident that epitomised their dreadful day in the field.

Nevertheless, chasing 293 on a flat deck against a rather feeble bowling attack should have been a simple enough task. But England being England made heavy weather of it, needing fine hands from Paul Collingwood and Ravi Bopara to settle the tie in the penultimate over. The Dutch, for the most part, bowled sensibly, with ten Doeschate again proving the star act. It was his dismissal of Ian Bell in the final ball of his spell that made the prospect of a Dutch victory even more tenable. No doubt England ultimately averted defeat and retained an element of honour, but the prospect at the change of innings in particular – and at various junctures during England’s chase – of an upset, provided the World Cup with a sprinkling of allure that it has desperately required. Sadly, there will be no such charm to look forward to in 2015.

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/dutch-dazzle-brings-world-cup-to-life].

Five things India needs to do to win the World Cup

These are not all-encompassing, nor are they, especially, novel ideas, but they constitute fundamental elements, which India must fulfil to have a chance of winning its second World Cup.

1. Pick the bowlers that suit the conditions

Pitches in the subcontinent, contrary to general perception, are not all slow, dry and low. Different grounds across the stretch of the region tend to produce surfaces that are varied in subtle yet vital ways and therefore, part of M.S. Dhoni’s job will be to rotate his bowlers to suit the playing conditions. Where possible though – except on pitches that have a clear propensity to aid the quicker bowlers – Dhoni must try and incorporate two frontline spinners in his line-up, for spin is clearly India’s biggest weapon. With Harbhajan Singh’s position in the Eleven considered unassailable, Piyush Chawla and Ravichandran Ashwin will vie for the second spinner’s spot. Chawla’s exemplary form in India’s two warm-up games coupled with the fact that Ashwin like Harbhajan is an off spinner, could see the leggie make the cut. If Chawla is preferred, a case may also be made for Suresh Raina to be included in place of Yuvraj Singh, considering that India will have a full-time spinner who can turn the ball away from the right-handed batsmen. Some believe, rightly in my opinion, that Raina should play ahead of Yuvraj, in any event, based on his superior batting record in the subcontinent in recent times and his excellent fielding skills. But that said, Dhoni seems to view Yuvraj’s bowling as a key cog in the present set-up and he is unlikely to drop him unless his performances are monumentally poor.

Additionally, the opponent’s team composition must also be considered before choosing between Chawla and Ashwin. Against teams littered with left-handed batsmen, Ashwin should be the preferred option. And if Ashwin is picked, Yuvraj, perhaps, irrespective of his batting form should be fielded to lend variety to the bowling attack.

2. Use Yusuf Pathan as a Floater

It is crucial that Yusuf Pathan’s destructive ability as a batsman is used to its maximum potential. Pathan looks to be at his most dangerous when batting at number seven, but India mustn’t fall into the trap of pigeonholing batsmen into set positions. He should be used as a floater in the order and must be accorded enough time to inflict the most severe damage upon the opponent. Pathan, perhaps, doesn’t need the aid of a power-play to do his thing, but it wouldn’t hurt to ensure that the batting power-play is used, if possible, when he is in the middle.

3. Use the Third Power-Play with Purpose

The third power-play – a stretch of five consecutive overs to be selected by the batting team when not more than three fielders can be placed outside the 30 yard circle – has rarely been used with ingenuity. Very often we see teams waiting until at least the 40^th over, and in some cases even until the 45^th over, before calling for the power-play. This may be sensible in some cases, but when a team is seven or eight wickets down, the batsmen at the crease are ill-equipped to make the most of the situation. If India can use the option creatively, even between the 15^th and 20^th over where the situation so demands, it can add exponentially to its batting totals.

4. Endeavour to pick wickets in the middle overs

India got many of its strategies wrong in the disastrous 2007 World Cup where it crashed out in the group stages, of which the bowling tactics in the middle overs, particularly, bordered on the ludicrous. The spinners were sought to be used as mere containing acts and the middle overs were seen as a time to check the flow of runs, with the team rarely looking at wicket-taking options. What ensued, though, were neither wickets nor an improved economy rate. (Here is a table which shows that the economy rate in the middle overs during the 2007 World Cup was directly proportional to the number of wickets picked) The spinners, therefore, need to be utilised as attacking weapons and as we saw in the practice games, nothing works like wickets in containing the run flow.

5. Place the right fielders in the right positions

In a recent address at Calcutta, Sir Vivian Richards and Steve Waugh both opined that the best fielding side will win the World Cup. For India’s sake, one hopes that their prophecies don’t come true. Virat Kohli and Suresh Raina – who may not feature in the Eleven – are the only world class fielders in the Indian squad and it is quite improbable that the team would be among the better fielding sides in the competition. That being the case, Dhoni needs to ensure, perhaps more than most other captains, that he gets the right fielders in the right positions. The likes of Munaf Patel, Ashish Nehra, Zaheer Khan, Yusuf Pathan and even Sachin Tendulkar, are poor ground-fielders, which means that Dhoni will have a great deal of hiding to attempt. But unless an effort is made towards that end, India can wave its chances of lifting the Cup, a big goodbye!

(This was also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/five-things-india-needs-to-do-to-win-the-world-cup)

Mark Waugh's 110: The best I've seen at Chepauk

“When you are eight you watch cricket with a keener eye for detail than you shall ever summon again. Brief passages of play swell big and perfect in your head, almost as if you imagined them, maybe.”

This is Christian Ryan in reference to a David Gower half-century at Perth, which he reckons is the best he’s ever seen. I was ten when I watched the 1996 World Cup Quarter-Finals between New Zealand and Australia at Chepauk in Madras – the only World Cup game I’ve seen from the confines of a stadium – and my memories from it are abiding and particularly vivid. I watched the game, much like Ryan observed Gower, with almost pain-inducing intensity, with small pieces of action coming to represent weighty memories.

New Zealand’s Chris Harris, then a balding, dogged middle order batsman and bowler of dibbly-dobbly trash smashed Australia for 130 runs off just 124 balls, a once-in-a-lifetime innings that featured four big-ones. The last of his sixes – a slog over midwicket off Michael Bevan – I seem to remember, hit the roof of the stadium, a thought that I sought to reinforce when watching the highlights of the game for the first time, last week, only to realise that the cameras lost track of the ball midway through its trajectory. Perhaps, the distance of the strike is nothing more than a figment of my imagination, but it does make for a good tale, doesn’t it? Anyway Harris’s 168 run partnership with captain and wicketkeeper, Lee Germon helped New Zealand post 286, a total of considerable weight. Germon, a batsman of ungainly technique was nonetheless in inspired form, making 89 runs off just 96 balls, which like Harris’s 130, is his highest in one-day cricket.

The Madras crowd is known to be one of the most sporting in the country. On that day this facet was in full evidence. The crowd cheered boundaries and wickets by either team with equal gusto. As for me, I joined in the revelry, not quite sure even at the halfway juncture, which team I was supporting. I was, though, a big fan of the Waugh brothers – particularly of Steve – and I was hoping the pair would make enough runs to fulfil my ‘simple’ demands. And happily for me, make runs they did, in Mark’s case a sublime century and in Steve’s a tenacious half-century.

I have been lucky to watch several excellent knocks at Madras, including a few Sachin Tendulkar hundreds, Saeed Anwar’s 194, half centuries from Brian Lara and Mohammad Azharuddin in an ODI in late 1994 (innings’ which I wish I could remember more of) and an 83 from Neil Fairbrother, who is a favourite of mine, in a test-match in February 1993 of which my only enduring memory is Anil Kumble’s first-innings dismissal of Robin Smith. As it happens, this was Fairbrother’s only test-match half century – such a terrible pity that I remember diddly-squat about the knock. But I digress. The point is Mark Waugh’s 110 remains the most memorable innings I’ve seen at Chepauk, a magnificent treat to the eyes.

Australia’s target was imposing – only once had a higher total been successfully chased in World Cup history – but Waugh made light work of it, batting fiercely yet with an air of casual elegance. He square drove anything that was even a fraction wide of off-stump, and whipped through the on-side with typical grace when the bowlers straightened their lines. Off-spinners Shane Thompson and Dipak Patel were countered with consummate ease. Once he settled into a rhythm, Waugh didn’t hesitate to play the lofted strokes, clearing Patel for two huge sixes, one over wide long-on and another straight as an arrow over the sight-screen, landing a few seats wide of where I was seated. The one-day game may now be replete with centuries in successful chases, but considering the occasion and a pitch that was slowing by the over, Waugh’s innings must rank as one of the finest in its history.

The game was also notable for Shane Warne’s pinch-hitting pyrotechnics. Promoted to number four, Warne hammered 24 off just 14 balls, including two slog-swept sixes, before being trapped LBW by Nathan Astle. That, though, brought Mark Waugh’s elder twin, Steve into the middle, who nicknamed ‘Iceman’ for his ability to hold his nerve when bowling at the death, showed similar imperturbability in his batting and took Australia home with 13 balls to spare. In their 87 run partnership, Mark and Steve Waugh showcased an understanding that was coalesced in the backyard of their Panania residence, by nicking ones and twos with cheeky disdain. After Mark fell to a tired stroke off Dion Nash, the elder Waugh in partnership with Stuart Law ensured a mishap-free completion of the chase. But the day belonged to Mark Waugh. Easy and elegant, his batting was a joyous spectacle – a truly, great World Cup innings.

(Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/mark-waughs-110-the-best-ive-seen-at-chepauk)

The joys of watching Damien Martyn bat

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/worldcup/the-joys-of-watching-damien-martyn-bat]

There have been innings’ of superior significance and greater totals, but Damien Martyn’s unbeaten 88 in the finals of the 2003 World Cup must rank amongst the most elegant knocks played in the history of the Cup. Martyn at his best batted like an angel. At the crease he was always serenely disposed, making batting look like child’s play. A dreamy back-lift was often followed by smooth strokes executed with what seemed like wanton carelessness. But the truth couldn’t have been more starkly different – his hands were always tender, helping him find gaps in the field which we thought never existed. Like most great batsmen, Martyn was endowed with a sense of timing. Mere prods off his bat would send the ball scurrying to the boundary. But he wasn’t averse to using a flashing blade, especially to send the ball over point, a shot which as brutal as it may have been, was a pleasure to behold.

His innings in the 2003 final is often overlooked in favour of Ricky Ponting’s bludgeoned 140, perhaps rightly so. But frequently forgotten is that Martyn was the one who got to his half century first – in spite of a six over handicap – the one who provided the impetus to a partnership that set the tone for a victory of resounding brilliance.

The nine editions of the World Cup have provided many excellent batting performances. The nature of the shortened format, though, has usually meant that an innings constructed with graceful ingenuity is reduced in its prettiness by grotesque hitting that is seen as a necessity in the slog-overs. Martyn’s elegance, however, was never cheapened by the layout of the game – he could make a swish over extra-cover look like a stroke from Picasso’s paint-brush. That he played the 2003 Final with a broken finger was never apparent. A batsman couldn’t have looked calmer at the crease.

If one were to generalise, Australian batsmen would fall into a prosaic category, ‘the gritty and the determined’. But the country has also been blessed with some of the most artful batsmen in the history of the game – Doug Walters, Greg Chappell and Mark Waugh to name the finest of a class, in which Martyn, most definitely belongs. Peter English once wrote that ‘Martyn can make Mark Waugh’s strokes look ugly and hurried.’ The knock in the 2003 finals explicitly paraded the truism in English’s words. It was compiled with a perfect amalgam of crafty placement and sublime timing. Martyn played the spinners so late, almost after the ball had passed him, and yet not once did he look ruffled. Although punctuated by seven fours and a six, the hallmark of the innings was the manner in which he found the gaps off the spinners, rotating the strike with metronomic ease – an aspect of the game that is often ignored in highlights packages. The pick of his boundaries was a six over extra-cover off Zaheer Khan – a graceful six if ever there was one. He may have eventually only played second-fiddle to a rampant Ponting, but there was enough in his innings to leave an indelible mark in my mind. We will be lucky if the upcoming World Cup produces a performance half as elegant as Martyn’s was.