Lest We Forget

All of them might not have been able to win gold for India, but they are worth their weight in gold. Our olympians have showed us Taare Zameen Par in real life. By sheer power of will, they have fought and won over thousand odds. Despite their loss in tournament, they are all winners. They are all heroes and heroines.

Kudos to all of them.


Nothing succeeds like success. Hope their success succeeds. Hope we start looking at sports as a practical career option for our children. Hope government and corporate invest their resources to shape the talents of thousands of anonymous Sushils and Vijenders, because every parent is not like Mrs and Mr Bindra. India needs more Bhiwanis.

Apart from infrastructure, sports needs visibility. We can not rely on Olympics and commonwealth games only. It's time more tournaments are organized and media gives them more coverage, thereby creating a competition among the states. India has more Bhiwanis, only waiting to be unearthed.

Rajdeep Sardesai comes up with an idea - "why don't each of the IPL team owners adopt one sport and make it part of their business plan?" This idea is not far-fetched. After all, it was none other than L.N.Mittal who had steeled the chances of our players. Mittal Champions Trust (MCT) has been supporting 14 players who participated in Beijing Olympics. Abhinav Bindra was supplied not only with cartridges, but also with physical trainer and mental therapist. Akhil Kumar had been sent to London for medical treatment when he had broken his wrist. Thanks to their success, MCT is willing to extend its support to more number of sports and sportsmen (and sportswomen). Even BCCI can come forward and contribute to the impending renaissance.

In any case, let Beijing 2008 be a point of departure, not a point of arrival. We've won medals in martial games, now we know that we have got that in us. We want to win, and our desire is not short of strength. All we need is a professional approach in sports. Given the grit and spirit of our players, I'm sure we'll make a mark in London 2012.

The Resurrection of Dada

I love Saurav Ganguly for showing this gesture. Look at the joy on his face at his teammate's success. Each one of us knows in her/his heart that it takes a character to tolerate, let alone celebrate, your neighbor's success. Not everyone can achieve that character, that strength, and that peace of mind. This man indeed has a Lion's heart; and he wears that heart in his sleeves. Perhaps that's why he gets carried away; takes off his shirt, runs into the arena like a little boy and hugs his boys like an affectionate father. Perhaps that's why Dada is loved like no other cricketer in India, passionately, and unconditionally! For skill and technique can command respect and awe but not what we call love. Love is bestowed upon those who, once in a while, do get carried away by it. This post is a tribute to the spirit of Dada - the beloved Prince of Kolkata, and to the most inspiring comeback in the history of Indian cricket.

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If you're looking for a clue to what has helped Sourav Ganguly sustain his spectacular run in Test cricket since his return at the fag end of last year, don't bother looking at his footwork or the flow of his bat. Take, instead, a close look at his eyes while he is batting. They speak of a calmness that borders on serenity, and a combination of composure and resolve. You could see it in his comeback innings in Johannesburg, which fetched him an unbeaten 51, and you could see it through his epic innings in Bangalore that marked a new high in his career.

In his bowling, and on the field, we have seen the more familiar Ganguly; excitable, emotional, even fiery. He has appealed cantankerously and celebrated his wickets and catches with child-like gusto. His batting hasn't lacked his natural flair - in fact, he has been batting with greater freedom than he did in the period leading up to his temporary banishment - but the most noticeable feature about his cricket has been his poise. It hasn't left him even after he has occasionally been cornered into an awkward position by a short ball.

He has let himself go only once: it was an emotional moment, getting to his first hundred before his adoring home fans. But his celebration after he got to his first double-hundred, a landmark he sought and will cherish, was far more subdued. There was the raising of the arms and the acknowledgment of applause from his team-mates and the crowd. But then there was also a series of little pumps of the fist, and a waving of the helmet. Those were for himself. There was an air of fulfillment, of a man celebrating privately in public. His smile touched a million hearts: his struggle to regain his place, and some would say his honour, have been among the most stirring and uplifting stories in cricket.

Let's be done with the numbers first. Incredibly for a man who was given up for dead, 2007 has been his most successful year statistically. Potentially he has three innings left still, and he has already scored 932 runs at 62.13. His most prolific year to date has been 2002, when he managed 945 runs - but it took him 16 Tests back then. Put together, 2005 and 2006 yielded him only 422 runs from 11 Tests at 28.13, and that included a painstaking hundred against a hopeless Zimbabwean bowling attack.

The manner of his removal, first from captaincy and then from the team, continues to rankle with his supporters, and surely with him. But it is undeniable that from that low has emerged this high. It was perhaps a bit disingenuous for Greg Chappell to claim credit for Ganguly's revival, but in the cold light of the day, the exile, the sheer indignation of it, did make the revival possible, and ultimately far more poignant.

The credit for it must go entirely to Ganguly, for few rational observers would have seen it coming. It wasn't just that the runs had dried up; his skills, his responses, seemed to have deserted him, and he bore the look of a haunted man.

He owes his return to a change in the selection committee, but the rest of the story is about a man who simply refused to surrender to what seemed inevitable to most. Much can be said about his improved footwork and the decisiveness of his stroke-making, but in the end, it has been a triumph of spirit, of incredible strength of mind and faith.

Remarkably, in a batting line-up featuring Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid, Ganguly has been India's best batsman since his return. Not merely for consistency and the number of runs scored - during the course of his double-hundred he became India's leading run--getter this year - but for the assuredness of the manner in which he has made them. His half-century in his return Test in Johannesburg, though subdued and a bit laboured, helped India to what ultimately turned out to be a match-winning first-innings total in a low-scoring Test. And in the decisive Test in Cape Town, only he looked fluent and in control in the fateful second innings; his dismissal induced a crawl that proved terminal.

In England he had a series of vital contributions, and none better than a 79 on a challenging pitch in the second Test at Trent Bridge. Apart from Zaheer Khan's inspired swing bowling, my warmest memory from that match is of Ganguly's square-driving.

Michael Vaughan set an off-side trap, with four men between cover and gully, and Ganguly teased and mocked him by caressing, punching and guiding the ball repeatedly through that cordon: one to the right of point, then one to the left, and then a couple between the two gullies. He was denied a hundred by a wrong decision, and his response to that dismissal told a story. In an earlier time he would have left kicking and stomping; here he did so with an ironic, rueful smile. The protest was registered, but without causing offence.

Admittedly his hundreds in the current series have come against feeble opponents. The pitch at Kolkata offered nothing to the bowlers, and Shoaib Akhtar was drained by illness. But at Bangalore he was not so much up against the bowlers as the match situation. He provided the calm cushion for Yuvraj Singh to flow at the other end without ever sacrificing his own strokes.

Personally, my favourite Ganguly innings of the series is a small but vital one. It came during the run-chase in the final innings of the first Test. Shoaib had just cleaned up Rahul Dravid with a ripper; India had over a hundred runs to get; and Tendulkar was finding non-existent demons in the pitch. In this banana-skin situation, typical to India, Ganguly, who had fallen cheaply in the first innings, set about cutting down the target nervelessly, with deliciously timed fours against Shoaib, Mohammad Sami, and Danish Kaneria.

The toughest challenge lies ahead. Australia will come hard at him, and the pitches will test his skills. But he is living out a fairytale at the moment, and nothing he achieves will be a surprise anymore. There are many, me included, who believed Ganguly's time as an international cricketer was over. We owe him an apology and a salute.

- Sambit Bal (Editor, Cricinfo)

From the Pavilion End

Do read this one. It's hard not to laugh like crazy after reading this. :)

"Bomber" Wells, a spin bowler and great character, played for Gloucestershire and Nottinghamshire. He used to bat at No.11 since one couldn't bat any lower. Of him, they used to paraphrase Compton's famous words describing an equally inept runner, "When he shouts 'YES' for a run, it is merely the basis for further negotiations!"

Incidentally, Compton was no better. John Warr said, of Compton "He was the only person who would call you for a run and wish you luck at the same time."

Anyway, when Wells played for Gloucs, he had an equally horrendous runner as the No.10. During a county match, horror of horrors.......both got injured. Both opted for runners when it was their turn to bat. Bomber played a ball on the off, called for a run, forgot he had a runner and ran himself. Ditto at the other end. In the melee, someone decided that a second run was on. Now we had *all four* running. Due to the confusion and constant shouts of "YES" "NO", eventually, all of them ran to the same end. At this point in time, the entire ground is rolling on the floor laughing their behinds out. One of the fielders - brave lad - stops laughing for a minute, picks the ball and throws down the wicket at the other end. Umpire Alec Skelding looks very seriously at the four and calmly informs them "One of you buggers is out. I don't know which. You decide and inform the bloody scorers!".

(Incident described in "From the Pavilion End" by Harold "Dickie" Bird)

Remove judge to save justice

06.02.06 Peshawar

Sachin Tendulkar 100*
India 305/4 in 45 overs

The legend has carved yet another history at the timeless walls of time. A milestone has been achieved yet again, 39th time for record's sake. Those who understand the language of numbers have been assured of a well-established truth - the God is NOT dead. The heretics who blasphemously talked about 'the beginning of an end' are once again convinced of their all-rounded ignorance without a word spoken. Leaving the non-believers wallow in the embarrassment of their ignominy, the God gracefully stretches his formidable frame before his awe-struck devotees whose eyes, glued on TV sets, are virtually on a pilgrimage. Oh how would words describe the gigantic tides leaping in the bubbling sea of people surrounding the scene! The incessant noise of screeching trumpets and the relentless cheer of clamoring crowd! The flags and faces painted with the colours of cricket. The drumming hearts, the gawking eyes, the heavy sighs and the unfaithful breaths. The air laden with passion and apprehension. Life in one part of the world has come to a standstill. Art has once again defied time.

The world prepares itself for his post-century innings, though quite differently across the Redcliff line. He stoops to reverse-sweep a tentative delivery from a frustrated hand. The tired ball keeps low, hits the gloves and dies after touching the pad. An appeal, surely better than the bowling, accompanied with a blind cry from the world around. The umpire raises his finger indicating an anti-climactic end of a great and potentially greater inning. The cricket droops its head in utter disappointment. The umpire defeats the spirit of game once again. Sachin, with a grace only he can afford to have, returns to the pavilion.

Later on, the commentary and the repeated replays revealed that he was declared out when he was not. The ball was a no ball. But the decision was irrevocable.

Result: India 328/10 in 49.2 overs and finally loses the match by 7 runs.

What is the meaning of this result? If you conduct the game with arbitrary decisions then how does the result count anyway?

- Come on pal, take it easy. After all it's just a game.
- May be for you. But for many it's not just a game. And you know very-well that you are talking nonsense.
- Ok. What do you want then?
- It hardly matters what I want. What matters is the choice between the genuineness of cricket and the powers of umpire. They can't coexist in the age when sophisticated technology soon shows the replay and exposes the ineptitude of umpire. A human, no matter how much skillful he is, is liable to misjudge and it is therefore absolutely unnecessary to encumber the umpire with this huge and controversial responsibility of ruling a batsman out in the age of ultra-accurate camera.

It's not a once-in-a-lifetime incident. If happens frequently and it used to happen frequently too, but then it was not detected. Now it is detected and condemned. Now when we are in a position to bring about more transparency and more justice to the nature of the game then not doing it seems to me nothing but an absurd nostalgia to an erroneous past and an infatuation of a useless convention. And it seems quite incomprehensible to me how can cricket tolerates someone in the arena who is an obstruction in the enforcement of the rules that define and shape the game. How can law itself entertain the existence of a judge who is a living wall across the road to justice!

The course, if not result, of this match would have been different had the umpire counseled his sense rather than eyes and consulted the third umpire, the only umpire who should have the right to pronounce the 'life' sentence.