Long Live Cricket, The Cricket is terminally ill

Dynamic leadership, charisma and inspiration can collectively move mountains and push a band of people to bring the best out of them. In a Cricket team, a captain can bring a team back from the brink of oblivion to echelons of glory. Sobers, Kapil, Imran, Ranatunga are all fine examples of how one man made a team believe and succeed against odds. Their team mates can't stop talking about how they were moved by these gentlemen, and they all attribute World Cup victories to these leaders. But shouldn’t we also honor the commitment of all those team members who were inspired, who dreamed collectively and believed in a singular objective? Players who gave it their all, and lost their individual personas and came together as one unit to win it for their countries? There is something powerful in the moment when a Nation is uplifted and united in an unrealistic way, when their beloved team wins the World Cup. Or is there?

When I look at the evolution of Cricket, especially in recent times since the advent of Twenty20 leagues, I worry for the version of Cricket that is being embraced by the newer generations. Twenty20 has increased the 'every player on his own' syndrome, there is no doubt about that. With player-auctions, trade ins and exorbitant amounts of money changing hands, players are not people anymore, they are commodities. And in this environment, it just seems that the likelihood of an individual wanting to be a part of something bigger than himself is diminishing to dangerous depths.

Somewhere between cheerleading boundaries and making millions, playing for one’s country has ceased to be the greatest ambition.

There are players who refuse to play test cricket so they can preserve their bodies for IPL. There are even examples of players who have given up national contracts to play the ‘freelancing’ and more lucrative versions of Cricket!! There is nothing wrong with creating alternate avenues for aspiring Cricketers, but when concert-arenas replace the cathedrals of Cricket, does it not feel that something has been fundamentally violated?

Is Cricket no more about dying for your country to win the World Cup, or that Test Series against arch rivals? If not there yet, is Cricket heading down that path?

As people, should we also change our expectations, and value quickfire-30-ball-50s in a rock-concert-arena, more than we value a gritty century that saves a Test after 12 hours of unwavering focus?

Would doing so fundamentally change Cricket? Or would it always remain a contest between a bat and a ball, only changing faces to keep up with the evolving market? After all as consumers we get what we want, right? And this shorter-slicker version of Cricket certainly sells better. Perhaps there are even possibilities of Ten10 or Five5 out there, with World tournaments that will start and conclude over the weekend. This is supposedly the version that will bring Cricket to the Olympics and markets like the USA. This is the version that is going to take Cricket to unprecedented heights.

But is this the version that will murder Cricket as we know it today?

The narrative of spending 5 hours with your Mom making mathri could now be replaced with a quick trip to the supermarket to get microwavable ones. The objective is achieved, but the journey is lost.

Romantics like me will hang on to dying Test cricket for as long as we can while keeping the passion of playing for one's country alive in little blogs like these. But the cruel fact is that we live in a world where longevity is defined by commercial viability, and the desire to conserve something pure has to make sense in dollars and cents.

So, if Test Cricket passes on, would it be a defeat for us as a People? Or would we have been victims as well, at the hands of this system that only talks money, and doesn't understand love?

The Carnage at Pallekele that turned the 'table'

All was happening as the pundits had predicted, with New Zealand hobbling to yet another lackluster performance in a One Day International, until one man showed us how to win Cricket matches by obliterating belief and destroying spirits of a team. On his birthday, Ross Taylor’s planets, stars, satellites, meteors, moons, suns and random unidentified terrestrial objects were perfectly aligned, and he didn’t need any of it. The mild mannered and unassuming man from New Zealand showed the brutal, merciless and inhuman violence that he is capable of. The war cry after reaching the century spoke volumes about how much it meant for Taylor, and the faces in the dressing room told us how uplifting this experience was for this team that has almost forgotten how to celebrate. ICC is checking with the Sri Lankan Government if all that transpired was legal, and Taylor might be facing criminal prosecution for the unprecedented violence he unleashed on the Pakistanis.

The Pakistani team was the perfectly-bonding-having-fun-out-there band of brothers for about 43 overs of the first half. They looked very much like a single unit with a plan and a focused objective. But shortly thereafter they looked like eleven amateurs completely disjointed, disoriented and independent of each other, running around without a leader, thought-process or a sense of direction. Bowlers bowled wides on both sides of the wicket, juicy half volleys followed by juicier full tosses and eventually came undone with their confidence completely annihilated. The only respite came when they needed a new ball between the sixes that landed in neighboring countries. Afridi turned from the clapping-encouraging Captain to the yelling-machine, and finally to the quiet-personification of grief who wanted to crawl under the sofa and die. Pakistan showed the ominous inability to endure pressure as a single unit. The team that had sailed through this tournament embarrassingly disintegrated at the first sign of pressure.

The batting effort that followed further showed how deflating Taylor’s knock had been. This Pakistani team would have backed themselves to get 300 on any other day and twice on Sunday, but the batters that came out just seemed dazed, sleep-walking through a chase that was already a lost cause in their minds. Batsmen batted like they needed 5 from 2 balls, instead of 250 from 34 overs. There was no application or effort to build partnerships which resulted in a meaningless bat-swinging fest that felt more like revenge than a thought-out plan for victory.

Apart from the skill issues, Pakistan needs to address their inability to respond to pressure situations. They need to work on their Plan B’s and C’s and ZZ’s, and be able to bounce back when backed into a corner. These are issues that just cannot be sorted out in tough net practice sessions. These are issues that need inspiration, dynamic leadership and most importantly a belief in their abilities to stick together as a team and back themselves to win from tough situations.

For New Zealand, they will look back and know that there are multiple issues to be fixed, but the one thing that they are not going miss is, Inspiration. Taylor became the hero who stood up and delivered one of the best ODI innings ever. He uplifted a team and a nation today, and gave the Kiwis a reason to believe, which was half snatched away from, and half surrendered by, the Pakistanis.

The tournament that seemed like hobbling towards yet another lackluster week just came alive today.

Pay attention people, This World Cup has arrived.

The Curse of the Strokemaker

With India’s lopsided reliance on batting, there has been enough chatter (a lot of it from me actually!) about how our bowling has issues to address, and how easily we fall flat on flat pitches. However, there are some batting hiccups as well that mostly hide behind larger-than-life performances by one of our top order batsmen, problems that are only exposed when there is a major collapse. The latter happens less often than it used to because of the heavy-duty skill-level that our batters bring to the table. But there is that one issue that surfaces every time our top order fails - The curse of the strokemaker.

We love our batsmen for the explosive hitting that they can resort to, and bail us out of any possible situation. What is somewhat lost in the mix is the superb art of busy batting - The version of batting displayed and mastered by the likes of Michael Bevan. These are batsmen who score at pretty much run-a-ball without hitting many boundaries, tire and frustrate the fielding side and yet have averages in the vicinity of 50! Supposedly bland, but this breed of batsmen is particularly useful because they do all the three critical things required after a collapse – they stop the bleeding by preserving their wicket, keep the scoreboard ticking at a very healthy clip and build platforms for massive scores despite the early disadvantages. What is more amazing is that they do all this without taking too many risks, without hitting too many boundaries and in short, pretty much play a boring brand of Cricket.

Our Indian version of rebuilding an inning seems to be a three step process - digging a hole in the middle overs, burying ourselves deep into it and finally digging out with some manic hitting in the death overs. Often, our batters drop the anchor after an early collapse and do two out of the three critical things – they stop the bleeding, and set up a platform for a final slog with wickets in hand. However, more often than not, they fail to keep the scoreboard ticking at a healthy clip during the consolidation period. And the day the final onslaught (or taking on the lone opposition spinner) fails, we fall woefully short of a competitive total and/or the victory.

Dhoni and Raina have shown glimpses of Bevan-ish Cricket on and off, but we might benefit by putting in a conscious effort to develop this (dark) side of our Batting, where we can consistently bat for the 25 middle overs, not lose more than a wicket or two and yet produce 140 runs. What this would also help with is creating less pressure on the likes of Yusuf to score at unreal rates, and buy us some insurance against late collapses.

We love the sailing sixes, bellowing Ravi Shastri and the random western music blasting out of our PA systems, because they all make for great highlights. And boy, we love our highlights so much, that we are diligently working to erase the line between the match and highlights! Today if one of our middle order batters produces a 58-ball-50 with a single boundary, my fellow-spectators are more likely to yell “Kya sula raha hai yaar!!” at the TV rather than sitting back to appreciate the serene saunter to victory.

As viewers, should we not appreciate the reliable need-of-the-hour grindings just as much as the unreliably-and-hastily-achieved objectives?

It feels like another case of misplaced perceptions, where consistent can sometimes seem boring, and volatile firepower can seem glamorous. We need a couple of batsmen who believe in rotating the strike six times an over just as much as hitting it into the stratosphere or the next state. In our quest to be undisputed World Champions, it is just another box that needs to be checked.

So, the question is,

Can boring be the new sexy?

Glasstops, Dustbowls and bittersweet Dilemmas

A somber thought to start with: Today marks the end of the first two weeks of this World Cup. Take a moment of silence while we reflect on that…

Well then, back to business, India has played two largely contrasting games in the WC so far, and if experiences teach us lessons, we have learnt more than we could have asked for! It isn’t necessarily a bad thing to learn without too much damage upfront in a tournament, but not implementing the lessons learnt is a rookie mistake. Dhoni & Co. should be salivating at the prospect of implementing some new strategies in the upcoming games.

Ireland and Netherlands have both shown grit in this tournament, and India should of course try to stay clear of any evil thoughts of complacency. But while keeping things under check, they could venture out into some unchartered waters to fine tune the somewhat-jarring engine that the Indian team is sounding like right now.

For starters, we could try our hand at bowling first after winning the toss. Our batters can put together (seemingly) insurmountable totals but it might be a good idea to challenge our bowling unit a bit and set them upfront with a target.

Bangalore pitch is flatter than a champagne bottle that remained in my fridge without a cork for a month (it tasted just fine though). Going in with two spinners might not be a great thing on this pitch and we should think about getting Nehra in the mix against Ireland to get him off the bench for some match practice. We could also toy with the idea of going in with five specialist bowlers! All this by no means should be seen as being complacent, it is all preparations for tougher days and that is the story that I am going to stick with!

Now that the Kotla pitch isn’t threatening to take any more lives, International Cricket has come back to Delhi! And that is where India plays Netherlands on Wednesday (weekday meaning I am going to suddenly fall sick for work that morning). Delhi pitch should provide a bit more bite than the Bangalore Ice-Skating rink, which provides an opportunity to give Ashwin a game (and perhaps have Chawla practice pitching the ball anywhere but the center of the pitch).

Lastly, we have got to try and attack a bit more. We can’t go back to defensive fields after being hit for a couple boundaries. And I am not saying that we do that because we are playing against minnows. We need to work on building an attacking strategy that eventually becomes our way of playing.

Like the great Ian Chappell once said, the best way to keep the batsmen from scoring is to get them out! I say, Fair Point Chappell, Fair Point!

When Love turns to Fury

We sometimes witness events that are just plain wrong. But then we can also relate with what caused it to happen. It is so ironic. Such an uncomfortable and awkward feeling to have! How does one make peace with it?

The last blog I published was about how fans from India don't just love Cricket, they are Cricket. It applies every bit to our neighbors as it does to us. So, when you invest your heart and soul, and a part of your very being into the love for this game, pray as one nation and worship its stars, how do you cope when your team is humiliated at home, and your hopes are brutally and ruthlessly raped?

Half a dozen frustrated fans hurl stones at the team buses in a spontaneous vent to express their disappointment and to get the disgust out of their systems. In this day and age it is simply not a matter that will be overlooked or glanced at casually. Gayle's comments on Twitter show how scared and angry one can get in a situation like this. If not with the anger, we can surely relate with the feeling one has while lying on the floor of a bus in an alien country, when you don't know if the things hitting the windows are stones, or bullets or if they are just the beginning of what might be a violent end.

Sadly, what this will erase is the overwhelming love and passion that Bangladesh emanated when the tournament kicked off a couple weeks ago. Every visiting journalist and blogger has written at length about the sheer passion they witnessed in Dhaka, like a beating heart that resonated through every smiling face.

But when you love something this much, emotions know no bounds. Its a very thin line, and though it takes all kinds of people to make this world, it only takes half a dozen in a hundred and fifty million to decide the fate of a hosting nation, to undo all the glory, to paint the rainbow black and turn the lights out.

It will be interesting to see how this event is handled. I hope that good judgment will prevail, but if it doesn't, in the paranoid, volatile and uncertain world that we live in, who would you blame?

United States of Cricket

This piece is dedicated to Cricket fans whose passion does not vary whether they are right there in the stadium, or like me, are timezones away from their home land. Being a fan takes effort, but it means everything to us. We are the breed that wakes up at ridiculous God-less hours, takes time off from work to watch games, have Cricket apps on our phones to stay connected and the first website we go to in the morning is Cricinfo! We are all over the place, in all corners of the world, but there is a string that ties us all.

We could be Residents or NRIs, North Indians or South Indians, village simpletons or shehri babus. There are many differences and many insignificant definitions that divide us. But when our team gets out on the field, we pray, laugh, cry and live in unison. We breathe as One. When our batters bat, and our bowlers bowl, we live each moment with them. With each other.

There is something connecting in the way our hearts are suspended together, pupils dilated, muscles contracted and lungs holding breath, as the ball flies off the bat and takes an eternity to reach its destiny of a catch or a six. When seconds stretch into minutes, and minutes into hours, and hours into a blink of an eye, we live each moment together. With each other.

So, is Cricket just a game for us?

I recall being a school boy and getting scolded by my Maa every time she found me after going missing in the morning. Yes, I would wake up at 4 to go practice, but it would take an incessant rant for me to stir on exam day. There is something romantic in a Dad explaining the rules of Cricket to a 3 year old, when the kid gets nothing, but simply gets excited because something happened that made his Dad and big brother jump up and down. The true happiness engages and connects like no Language could. From that moment, it somehow gets embedded in our DNAs. Emotions are stirred that we never knew existed. We become fans even before we understand the game. We too grow up and do age-defying jumps on the couch. We too hug our confused little ones.

It is a powerful thing. It moves us, engages us, drives us and makes us a part of something bigger than ourselves. For Expats, it connects us to our homelands like nothing else could.

Hell no, it is not just a game.

It is Cricket. 

A sleepless night, a nightmare and a wake-up call

It has been about 48 hours and that is how long it took for me to stir out of the coma of disappointment, to be able to think and write about Cricket again. The game between India and England was to start at 4AM in New York and after a sleepless night, I experienced the most breathtaking 8 hours of Cricket and came off with a dehydrated body and pure disgust in my heart. It was only after hours of helpless zombie-walking, did India crawl back from the dead and managed to salvage an improbable tie. The victory that we all thought was certain never came. What came was a tie which really felt like victory after the slow-death we had experienced, and a wake-up call for the Indian Team as well as us fans.

Let me quickly get my favorite part out of the way so I can whine in peace. Sachin once again showed us what a true champion he is. I truly feel that Sachin has come to a stage in his career where he just doesn’t have a bad day. He could have a bad shot selection, or get a rare peach of a delivery, but you never really see him out there struggling to time and middle the ball. The man is just eternally in good knick it seems, and it is only a matter of the time he can spend in the middle. If he is there, he will score big with what seems like no risk at all. We witnessed batting that was serene, comforting, and just magical to watch. It made us all believe that as long as this man is here, India is well and truly on their way.

So much for that comforting thought, because it was shattered, violated, stomped upon and torn into tiny pieces of sadness by what followed. Indian bowlers showed us the insipid helplessness that makes you feel like you are sitting at the bedside of a patient, watching him die. Just sitting there and waiting for the machines to stop beeping, and the formalities to be concluded. I had already written about how toothless Indian fast bowling had come to be, and the come-from-behind victory against the Australians had me believing that it will be the slower version of the art that will compensate and come to our rescue. But what we witnessed on Sunday proves that if India has to go on to win this World Cup, we simply need to be playing every single match on a dustbowl! Pitches like Bengaluru that are flat without much bite are going to expose the absurdity that Indian bowling has become. It just seems that too many things have to fall into place for us to register a win. Win toss, bat first, no-swing early on, big 300 plus score, turning pitch, no dew and the list goes on. 

India’s bowling troubles, both with the front-liners and what adds up to be our fifth bowler option, were quite evident to me and consequently I already had my expectations adjusted beforehand. But what really left me distressed was the intent-less and painfully-defensive decision making that we saw from Dhoni. Well of course, we have come to love this man for his cool head and sharp management skills. But having four fielders on the edge of the circle, and five fielders patrolling the boundary for endless overs, giving singles so easily that it hurts to watch, and basically waiting for the batsmen to gift us their wickets just does not sound like the calculating captaincy that we have come to expect from our fearless leader! And it is certainly not the kind of Captaincy that is going to win us the World Cup with sub-par bowling resources! The rude turning of tables in the PowerPlay begged the question of why did we not try and attack a bit earlier?

So, where do we go from here? The higher powers have, with this WC edition, ensured that it is most unlikely for the top teams to exit the tournament in the first round. So, in the quarter-finals and beyond, we need one of two things. Either our batters simply need to score 400 plus consistently, with maybe a 500 somewhere in there or perhaps a thousand, OR the team management needs to come up with better strategies to utilize the resources we have. We can’t continue to be overly fascinated with our batters (to the point of making the official song De Ghuma Ke) and ignore the importance of having a potent bowling attack. Batting can not bail us out all the way to the Final and win it for us!

On the other hand, winning on dustbowls will simply give us another questioned status like our test ranking. To be undisputed champions, we need a team that is much more complete than the one we have. But as the romantic tale of Cricket goes, our belief never dies. As Indian Cricket fans we will continue to look forward and hope (and pray), even though our faith was beaten black and blue on Sunday. Not being able to defend 338 is so scary I want to throw up. Here is hoping that it was the jolting wake up call for Indian Cricket machine that we hope it was.

We need fearless bowling from our spinners, aggressive strategies from Dhoni, more overs from our pacemen like the couple that Zaheer delivered towards the end, somewhat turning wickets, perhaps a chance for R Ashwin, better umpiring decisions and continued awesomeness from our batters. And luck, lots of it. 

It is a long list, but Fans continue to hope, as we live to die another day, or immortalize against odds.