Lurching through a kaleidoscope of the nonsensical

First off: a very happy new year to everybody out there! Let's hope this year is filled with happiness, success and exciting cricket.

I apologise for the long hiatus. 2011 has been rather trying from a cricket fan's point of view. While I allow that my laziness is partly to blame, this year has been so full of dizzying highs and desperate lows that it's become more a chore than a pleasure to keep up.

The World Cup victory - has it only been eight months? Gosh - has already vanished in a haze of premature nostalgia, and people composing end-of-year review posts have already started warning us that the victory shouldn't hide the greater problems with the Indian team. Namely, our pathological inability to win anything substantial on foreign soil. While I avoid a large chunk of cricket writing these days - I can never shake off the feeling that I'm being talked down to, that there's a great deal of obfuscation regarding different forms of the same sport, that people who enjoy, or claim to enjoy, cricket at its basic levels can find it repulsive when not played for five days - I agree with the basic principle.

The time difference between our tour of England and England touring us was a matter of weeks. In every other way, however - they might as well have been photographic negatives.

The batting floundered, the bowling was inadequate, sure. But I've heard this story before. This team seems stuck in an eternal bog of inadequacy, sea legs on a distant shore, although they are probably more travel-savvy than most billionaires around the world. Our batting literally cannot get any better - VirunGauti at the top, Rahul Dravid, Sachin Tendulkar at the top of their game, the Australian Nemesis VVS Laxman, both Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma making strong claims for no 6, Dhoni at 7, a surprisingly accomplished Ashwin at 8, and, uh, well, let's forget about the tail. This flopped repeatedly in England, and in both innings at Melbourne. If our bowling is some sort of patchwork rotating door, the batting is like one of those antique behemoths that crumble to dust at the slightest pressure.

At home, however - they swell like a tidal wave, and all is forgotten and forgiven in a burst of jingoistic retribution.

This team is stagnating. The stage has changed, the props have changed, the actors have changed, the director has changed, the music is loud and the audience is more rowdy, but the script remains the same.

You can call that an uninformed, or barely informed, generalisation. Sure, go ahead. But when I look at the cricket and feel nothing but a tired sort of deja vu, I have to wonder. Is this 2003? Is this 2007? Because it's the same friggin ground, the same friggin team, and the same sort of mindless capitulation after a strong start.

The technical analysis behind India's repeated failures abroad is beyond me; it could be the technique, it could be their mental status, it could be a hoodoo priestess in a rundown shack in Canberra, for all I know. All I hope for now is a quick re-write, before all the columnists start gnawing away like maggots on a three day old corpse.

Again and again, I keep coming back to this quote, but there has perhaps never been a more candid, more true statement about modern cricket:

After all, if taken in the right sense, we are the performers in the circus

Dhoni nailed it. 2011 was a particularly busy year for the circus. I have a vague recollection of a South African tour in January - wasn't Yusuf Pathan quite the hero in that? He's disappeared into the ether now - a ponderous group stage of the World Cup (barring a couple of exciting games) ate up most of February and all of March, and - after the glorious, glorious first week of April, we had the IPL right through the rest of the month and all of May. And then - again, I vaguely recall - a tour of West Indies? Or something. Duncan Fletcher got appointed as coach somewhere along the way, and Rahul Dravid made one of the most ironic statements in the history of the world with regards to a sense of humour.

July and August - touring England and getting our asses kicked, then coming home and kicking ass in return - squeezed in a Champions League in September before the West Indies came home, and -

- you know what? I don't even know anymore. There was cricket, and it was played.

Two of the best things in 2011 for me - apart from April 3, of course - was Dhoni surging to limited-overs glory in the middle of the ear, doing it in his inimitable, last-man-standing, boy on the burning deck style at first, then in a sort of Rockstar Terminator style later. The second was, of course, the rise and rise of one Ashwin Ravichandran. The man's a gem. He really, really is. I feel nothing but pity for Bhajji.

Coming to our current tour of Australia - given that we are following the paths tread as deep as the Grand Canyon, the Sydney test should be a better one. Whitewater raft your way through this one, boys - quit stagnating and shake off the seaweed.

The Big Crash

There was a point, I think, right after the Lord's Test, where I was absolutely unconcerned about how the team was playing; I remained smug and solid in my conviction that this team was the king of comebacks, and that it would bounce back with the kind of alacrity that would lead to people making horrible puns that possibly included the words 'India rubber'. After all, we all know what happened in South Africa, right? Or Australia? Or Sri Lanka? Hell, the Freakin Amazing Test Match in '08 against England in Chennai, where we were losing for 3 and a half days before going on to win?

History said: India will make England slip off its perch so bad, it's gonna get rope-burn. Or something. (History isn't terribly great at mixed metaphors.)

Unfortunately, we went through a wormhole into a reality where it was India that continued slipping. And slipping. And slipping.

But more on that later.

So there we were in good ol' Trent Bridge for the second Test, and India seemed right on track. We had England at 100-odd for 6, Ishant Sharma was finally starting to look formidable again, and PK was a revelation. "See?" I said. "Everything's going according to plan."

Then: we... just let it slip.

Looking back on that moment, that session of play where we let Stuart Broad and Graeme Swann do what they pleased with the bat was The Turning Point. Possibly THE most important session in the series. When we let that go, we'd practically let go of the series, our no 1 ranking, any semblance of dignity we might have had. I remember being more bemused than angry. I still am, actually. It's like being smacked on the head by a cow that just fell from the sky. What the hell happened?

Yeah, sure, England played magnificently - not going to take that away from them - and we were crap warmed over, but - still. What? We can't be THAT bad, right? The depressing thing is that a team with the likes of Tendulkar, Dravid, Laxman and Sehwag is performing a couple of notches below how Bangladesh would perform in the same situation. Hell, B'desh could've maybe managed a draw or two, even.

The final Test is going on at the Oval right now, and England scored bucketloads of runs in the first innings (as usual) and we - FREAKIN AGAIN - folded cheaply. It's like somebody went there and pulled the plug on some vital reserve in the Indian players. I imagine little gears and chains in the players' bodies, pulling them through over after over, through minute after minute of the depressing charade. In the few minutes I dared to watch the actual TV coverage - risky, because I tend to spend the rest of the day in a blue funk when I do - I remember Harsha Bhogle saying something along the lines of, "So Praveen Kumar continues to bowl. And bowl. And bowl."

I imagine he was praising PK's perseverance and stamina, but every word was also a statement on the black sludge that the Indian cricket viewer's soul was being dragged through.

And bowl. And bowl. And bowl. And bowl. And bowl...

A lonely and sordid nightmare.

Compounding the depression is that - man, this is England we're losing to. England! Forgive me for my prejudices, but - seriously, India? Seriously? About the only modern English thing I can bring myself to love is Doctor Who. Everything else is a horror acid trip consisting mostly of Swann's 142-character witticisms and Stuart Broad's, well, everything.

Dhoni must've known a series loss was going to come sometime. I don't think he expected it to be this bad.

I can't bring myself to watch/read/write about this series. It's physically painful. Just getting those links for the matches and verifying the scores was like taking raw chunks out of my soul. I remember my Dad watching an NDTV news bulletin about the second Test during breakfast. The anchor announced the highlights package as "Now for the Sadlights" without a trace of irony. If the team's performance is depressing, the local media reaction is even more depressing.

Sunil Gavaskar going, "The players, now that they've won the World Cup, act as if Indian cricket owes them something now, rather than the other way round" (paraphrased), was probably the only time I got angry through the whole affair. That's an unfair statement, Mr. Gavaskar. That's really, really unfair. I really can't say anything more than that, just goggle in sheer disbelief.

I can't stand it. I usually avoid news channels like the plague; now I've taken to just removing the sports pages of the newspaper and folding them under the toaster in the morning. Yes, I'm enjoying my ride in this river in Egypt; how about you?

I'm still waiting for THE moment, however. The moment where the Indian team gets that spring in its step and stop auditioning for extras in a George Romero movie. It's part wishful thinking, part romantic fantasy, but mostly proved by history. There have been passages - tiny, but they were there - of play in this tour where the Indians showed glimpses of why they are/were/are/were/ARE, goddamit, the best team in the world. Some good memories can still be salvaged out of this tour. Maybe even a couple of wins.

Meanwhile, I'll direct the depressing stuff to the ever-growing pile under my toaster.

My 0.2 seconds of fame

Finally, my report of what went down on the evening of May 4! A little late, I know, but I've been around a bit since then, and, well. The Chennai summer has been sapping me of the will to live, leave alone write.

However! Here we go.

It was the afternoon of the fourth of May, and it was HOT. I mean, not any more than usual, but it's not the kind of afternoon you'd want to play cricket in. With much sympathy (a rare thing for fans as entitled as we), three of my friends and I met up at a shopping mall nearby and took an autorickshaw to about as close as it could get to the stadium. On the way, we saw the team bus, and possibly spotted Albie Morkel at the window. Excited? Hell yeah.
Having purchased our CSK caps from one of the several vendors lurking around, and having made sure we were all decked in yellow, we proceeded to walk toward our designated gate. We were soaked in sweat by the end of that walk. I was dreading how much more of our body volume we were about to lose inside the stadium.

Security was... well. About as tight as they could manage. We knew about the no-food, no-water rule, but they also confiscated my tube of sunscreen and my friend's deo spray, which, well. Kind of pissed us off. Serves you right if my face comes off in great bloody strips and the toxic fumes from several thousand sweaty armpits kill us all, was my thought. In retrospect, it was probably silly, but that close to the stadium? I think I was already prepping myself for mindless emotional reactions. Yay!

So! Into the stadium we went. It'd been three years since I'd last been to the MAC (the last time was a CSK v DC match I went to with my family; that happened to be one of the only two games DC managed to win the whole '08 season, so I warned the others that they were taking a bad-luck charm with them). It looked... pretty, with the giant white canopies and the gaps between the stands and the profusion of giant screens (counted at least three at first glance). The major improvement, though? The seats. Also, the general appearance had made a giant improvement: I remember the first time I visited the MAC and being hugely disappointed by how shabby everything looked. Now, though? I felt like I was really visiting the stadium for the first time.

Our stand was the I stand, lower tier, which was fantastic because it was right by where the players practiced before the match started. The Men in Startlingly Bright Yellow were already there, stretching and doing catching practice when we arrived. The Rajasthan Royals had not come out yet, and the stadium was just starting to slowly fill in. Armed with those inflatable Zoozoo headband things we went straight to the fence to start gaping at the players ("who's that with the weirdass shirt?" "Hussey?" "You kidding me? That's Albie." "ALBIE! Look here!")
Just as Raina was leaving, we called out to him, waving frantically. He turned back, grinned at the four of us, and waved back. Did I mention Raina is awesome? Because he is. We tried the same with Morkel; he kinda glanced back and gave a reluctant little wave with his hand still near his hip; Badrinath didn't even respond. Which is kind of rude, since we were the only people out there calling for him. (We didn't laugh when his pants came down, though. Not much, anyway.)

So as the toss and the pre-match interviews went on ("there's no time gap between the pitch-report and the toss?" gasped my friend, a first-timer. Aaah, the routine of watching cricket on TV. Anything for ads featuring two-timing girls with bulky mobile phones.) and we started settling in (not really). We painted giant yellow hearts on one side of our cheeks and a CSK player's name on the other (I was "Ashwin" by the way; why not Dhoni, you ask? Ashwin needs all the fan-support he can get, yo! Plus it occupied maximum space, so. Y'know. Fun.)



So there we were, screaming and laughing and creating a right royal ruckus a good half-hour before the match had even begun. We managed to draw the attention of the official CSK website photographer, who snapped us grinning wide enough to split our faces open. Aaaand the photo came on the CSK website!

Our 0.2 seconds of fame, I declared.

Anyway. The match started, and it was tremendous fun. For one, it was actually cool. As in, it was pleasant and not horribly stuffy as we'd dreaded, mostly due to the fact that there'd been a lovely cool breeze blowing every few minutes. Also, we were in the shady part of the stadium, which meant there was no direct sunlight. It was an amazingly pleasant surprise.

Dravid was going great guns - it was a little surreal to be watching it real-time with no closeups of the batsman or following the ball as it went to the boundary; I swear at one point I was grasping at thin air for an invisible remote - and there was much chanting of "C-S-K! C-S-K!" from behind us in encouragement. Just to rile them up, we would go "Ra-jas-than! Ra-jas-than!" every time they started their chant. What? It was fun, although we did get a lot of funny looks.

However, we didn't always have a great view of the action, and had to move a little higher later in the second innings. Another disadvantage of being where we were was that Aniruddha Srikkanth kept fielding right in front of us, and we had a near-constant view of his generously-endowed posterior and his occasional fielding gaffe (he fell right over the ball even as it raced under him in the first over. I pray he didn't hear us cursing. We love you really, Aniruddha!).

Wickets fell like rain in the last ten overs - skiers falling down the throat of Murali Vijay, mostly; damn, that man must be a specialist in that sort of thing by now - and we screamed, oh how we screamed! Gave high-fives and vent to our throats in a way that would've cracked glass were we watching this at home. This is it, I thought, this is aaaall it's about. And it's brilliant.

It was. To give yourself to the ebbs and flows of the game like that, with complete abandon, and have ten thousand others do it with you? The feeling is like the best drug, man.

The second innings began, and perhaps the only blip there was that we lost Vijay early (one of my friends who's a HUGE Vijay fan was crushed; I laughed until I was reminded that I'd react the same way if Dhoni were to get out early. Which, y'know. Touche.) and that the result was all too predictable toward the end. "Let Raina get out and Dhoni come in!" cried my first-timer friend. "Let it be a cliffhanger like the Kolkata game!" Hell-llo. Gift. Horse. Mouth. A strict no-no. That is all.

At the end, Raina did get out with 4 to get, which amused me to no end. We cheered for Shane Watson and Johan Botha to break up the monotony ("Botha! Botha! Bo-THA!" "Dude. That sounds wrong." "Um. Johan, Johan?" "THE J IS SILENT!" "Geez. You sound like you're his mother.")

Shaun Tait, who was not playing but passed by where we sat, received a few cheers from us, too. He turned and gave a small wave, which, yay.

There were many aborted attempts at Mexican waves - aborted because one section of the crowd, the stand right next to us, in fact, would just not get up. Finally they did, and we did six continuous Waves. It was kind of awesome.

The winning moment was more of a "finally!" than a "wow! awesome!" moment, but yeah. A superbly comprehensive victory, the weather was great, and we were not the little puddles of skin-coloured goo on the cemented floor as we'd feared. The drinks were a tad expensive - Rs. 60 for an iced tea that was neither iced and tasted nothing like tea; in fact, it kinda tasted like ultra-diluted beer, but an incredibly enjoyable experience otherwise. There's nothing like being there, particularly with friends who are just as cricket-crazy as you.

Let me tell you what I love about this CSK team. They are a team. They are about the most locally represented team out there. Badrinath, Vijay, Ashwin... indispensable. (My heart still aches that Balaji is among the men in yellow anymore). I love that there's always somebody who steps up when the others aren't performing: if it's Hussey and Raina one day, it's Albie and Dhoni the next, or Vijay and Badrinath. If Albie and Randiv are bowling crap, it's Dougie and Jakati; if it's Ashwin and Bravo one day, it's Raina and Kulasekara the other. Mumbai is all Tendulkar, Rayudu and Malinga; Bangalore = Gayle. Not so Chennai. I love it.

I especially love that these guys can come back from bad situations and fight blood, tooth and nail till either victory or the very last ball. Is why they are the most successful IPL team out there any mystery? I don't think so.

Oh dear lord.

One response:



Also, sorry. Got nothing meaningful to add, really. I thought I'd get more into the IPL as it progressed, but I've been able to muster nothing even near the enthusiasm of the last three years. However! I'll be going to a couple of matches in May (and I'll finally be seeing the brand new MAC!) so hopefully that'll put me in a blogging kind of mood.

I am vaguely disturbed by this.

Grammatically speaking

... you're wrong, Mahi.

Double-negative? Seriously?

Also, nice tongue-in-cheek, cricinfo.

A Measured Post

Now that I've given myself enough time to recover from the India-Pakistan encounter, I think I can manage a decent-enough post building up to tomorrow's final. Or manage some level of coherency at any rate. In case you do want my reaction, which involved much CAPSLOCK and fangirling, you can check it out here.

Now. Tomorrow, India v Sri Lanka for the ultimate glory in the cricketing world: the world cup. I think it kinda fits, you know? Over the last three years, if there's been one constant, it's been: there's an India v Sri Lanka match 'round the corner. Right from the Asia Cup in 2008 - or is it even before? Our history goes way back, but I'll start with 2007.

In early '07, we played a four match bilateral with SL in India before the World Cup, which we won 3-1. We kicked their asses, I remember. However, it was SL that broke a billion hearts when we lost to them and crashed unceremoniously out of the '07 WC. Then the Asia Cup in '08, where we were on a high, rebuilding and recovering, just having beat the World Champions in their own freakin' backyard and destroying the Lankans on the way. We had a completely in-form, frighteningly awesome line-up. And yet in the final? We crumbled to Mendis' carrom-ball. Score to SL.

The Mendis nightmare continued as we toured them later that year. He bamboozled the likes of Dravid and Laxman and Ganguly as SL cruised to a Test series win. However, we came back and won the ODI series 3-2. I don't think it's possible ever to underestimate how important this win was. Almost as big as the CB series win. For me, this is where the Indian team began to show that it had the guts for a right royal scrap. This was as much a defining moment in recent Indian cricketing history as any other.

Then. Another ODI bilateral in early '09, 4-1 to India. SL touring India later that year, Tests and ODIs, both going to India. Then we tour them in '10, drawing the Tests and winning the ODIs.

In between. Five tournament finals: Asia Cup '08 (SL), Compaq Cup 'o9 (Ind), tri-series final in Bangladesh '10 (SL), Asia Cup '10 (Ind), the Micromax tri-series with New Zealand '10 (SL).

That's a lot of cricket in less than three years. I remember a lot of exasperation everytime yet another series was announced, and I even wrote a parody-piece about it. And to think that the biggest tournament in cricket also culminates in an India-Sri Lanka final? Is it the same old yet another, yet another? Can we expect things to be different this time? Especially when these teams know each other inside-out?

Let's have a look at SL's performances leading up to the finals. Well. I don't remember much of SL's matches this tournament, because they've been so efficient. I honestly can't remember a goddamn thing from their group matches, except their middle order had a funny propensity to make life tough for them. Huge wins against Kenya, Canada... a loss to Pakistan, I remember, their only aberration... a washed-out match against the Aussies... then? A win against New Zealand, I think? And Zimbabwe? I honestly can't remember without looking it up, because their campaign has been so unremarkable. Most of their plans have worked, and worked well.

Clinical wins against England and New Zealand in the quarters and semis, and you have to say Sri Lanka have peaked, yeah?

That's the funny thing. I can point out a particular stage in the tournament where each team has peaked, and say, "yep. That's about as good as they can get." Sri Lanka are in that stage right now. Dilshan on song, Sangakkara and Jayawardene in form, Malinga, Murali (if fit), Herath/Randiv/Mendis... everybody chipping in. Rosy picture? I think so.

But what's funny about it, you ask? Well, the only team that hasn't reached this 'peak' stage is India. In every match you get the feeling India is performing sub-optimally, doing just enough to get the job done. Our first match against Bangladesh is probably the closest we've gotten to playing to our potential. Is that scarily awesome, or scarily worrying? I don't know. But that we've gotten all the way to the final despite not being at our best adds some credence to India's apparent strategy of saving their best for the last. Maybe they don't want to get burnt-out before the Big One. God knows we've done that before.

A fairly comfortable win against Bangladesh, a hair-rending tie with England, wins against Ireland and Netherland, both games in which we made our chases a little complicated because of overconfidence at the top, then that last over loss to South Africa, and finishing off our group with another good win against the West Indies. A well-fought quarterfinal encounter with Australia... and then the win over Pakistan in the semi.

About the game...

I will not lie to you, I looked forward to that game like it was my next breath. I mean, I don't know how much of it is the media hype; I don't watch news channels anymore, particularly during a major cricket tournament. But even so: that morning I woke up and the first thing I thought was oh my GOD today's India v Pakistan! And then: oh my god today's my mom's birthday better go run and wish her. But, yeah. I was super-excited.

The match lived up to my expectations. A team is only as strong as its weakest link, so while everybody went on and on about how it was Pakistan bowling v Indian batting, the real battle was between the Indian bowlers and the Pakistani batsmen. And guess what? The bowlers won. It is very special, considering how handicapped the attack was without a second specialist spinner, and that neither Nehra nor Patel had exactly covered themselves with glory in the previous matches. But they came good, and that's just this Indian team all over again: they falter and they fight, but by god, they won't just lie down and take whatever crap's dished to them.

(A note of appreciation here: I raged and raged when I learned that Ashwin had been dropped for the game. The Nehra choice worked very well - he bowled superbly - and Dhoni could've just grinned and soaked up the "oh he's such an intuitive captain" praise. But he didn't. He had the balls to admit that he made a mistake in reading the pitch, and that he ought to have gone in with two spinners, while still appreciating Nehra and Munaf's efforts.)

A lot of talk's going around that it was more a case of Pakistan losing than India winning the game. They dropped Sachin Tendulkar four times, they say. That's criminal! Perhaps. If Sachin'd gone, what's to say Yuvraj wouldn't have performed? What about Kohli? What if Raina had gotten a longer stint? What if Dhoni'd settled in earlier? Maybe if Sachin'd gotten out early, would we be looking at a 280+ score? 220? Can anybody say for sure?

Ultimately, India took its chances better than Pakistan did. Isn't that all about what cricket is? Isn't a pitting of skill against skill? Particularly considering it's a no-contact sport and you're freakin banned if you so much as touch shoulders with an opponent player. India batted better, India bowled better, India caught better! End of story! Why undermine the performance?

I have to say, though, that the Pakistanis did have a great tournament (apart from a few mad overs against NZ) and Afridi was fantastic and super-gracious in defeat. That, though, brings me to one last grouse:

It is best exemplified by this article by Aakash Chopra.

Look, I've never been a fan of the guy. I can't judge his cricket-related articles - not my area of expertise - and I've heard they're pretty good, which, hey. Great for him. But this one? So much more broad-based - too broad-based, in fact, and I think have sufficient authority to comment on it.

"Is this really patriotism?" he asks in the title. No, Aakash, it's jingoism. Welcome to the party. You're, uh, about 60 years late.

The support for the Indian team bordered on crass, he says. Again: where have you been all these years? Then:

In fact, now that we have beaten Pakistan it's considered okay if we lose to Sri Lanka in the final, for we have been avenged. Don't you find it strange? What does it tell you about our evolution as a responsible nation?

Oh god no - pop!sociology or whatever the hell he's attempting. No, Aakash, don't do it!

Then:

Post independence and the division of the country, we just carried forward the same sentiment i.e. sport being the vehicle to assert supremacy. The relations between India and Pakistan remained sour for the longest time. We've fought wars and still continue to have other equally important issues plaguing us. Yet, there's enough reason to believe that we as people, have matured and come a long way in trimming down that animosity, especially via Bollywood and numerous other cultural exchanges, perhaps reiterating time and again that the rivalry is only political. Or at least I'd like to believe that India has definitely evolved and has become a responsible nation. Unfortunately though, all it took was a cricket match to topple that process of evolution. Are we not, in a sense, pushing ourselves back a 100 years?

Just look at that. Look at the histrionics there. I thought I was a drama-llama. "topple that process of evolution"... "pushing ourselves back 100 years"... it's a cricket match, man! Stop attaching more importance to it! You're kind of defeating your own case, y'know.

If there are issues between India and Pakistan now, it's got to do with a little something called "terrorism". I'm sure you've heard? It's got nothing to do with a bunch of guys in coloured pyjamas knocking a ball around.

Also: dude. Sport has always been a source of crass jingoism! Sport is not like real life, where there are a million shades of grey and there are no absolutes. In sport, there are a definite set of rules, a clear playing field, and a definite winner and loser at the end of it all. If we let ourselves go as far as sport is concerned, should it be considered a devolution of intelligence on our part? Bollywood and cultural exchanges are fine, but on the playing field, it's always going to be an Us v Them, and it's always going to bring out our basest instincts. This is the case with every high-profile rivalry out there. Or have you not been evolving with the times? It's a global village! Keep an eye out for crowd reactions every where.

Then he vies for our sympathy, by describing the pressure felt by a player during these kinds of matches. He talks of the reactions of fans and how the players fear them, citing the vandalising of Kaif's house in '03 and the super-hype that the Pakistan tour of '04 got as examples. "We are humans too," he says. "Will we be the nation's pariah just because we couldn't win a game of cricket?" No, just win the next one and you'll be their darling again.

Okay, I don't have much against this part. The pathos is heartfelt and completely understandable. I can't imagine how it must be to have millions of hopes hinging on every move you make on the field.

Then he ends it so:

It's about time that we, as a nation, answer these questions. Are we going to behave like this every time we play Pakistan? If we detest them so much, it may not be a bad idea to severe all cricketing ties with them, for a cricket match can't be used as a benchmark to prove our superiority as a nation. Every time we behave like the way we did this time, it pulls us down as a responsible nation. The choice is ours.

Oh, is it, Mr. Chopra. What exactly did we do? We detest them? Really? We're looking at cricket matches as our only parameter of success against them? India and Pakistan have a lot of history between them, and the antagonism comes from wounds far, far deeper than any random cricket match. Like everything else, every place else, emotion is allowed free rein on the field. We scream and shout and hate and love, and at the end of the day we go home and sleep and go to work the next day. So don't boil everything down to a cricket match, Aakash. You're kinda shooting yourself in the foot.

Also, one of the most memorable India-Pakistan incidents is the standing ovation the Pakistani team got from the Chennai crowd in '99. Or more recently, when we gave the second-biggest cheer of the night to the Pakistani contingent (after our own athletes) in the Commonwealth games opening ceremony. Maybe you could take those incidents and spin a spiel about how close India and Pakistan actually are, huh?

Oh, god. I went completely off-track, huh.

Anyway, tomorrow? Has every chance of being India's day. I remember watching this ad and thinking how appropriate it was. Notice the man wearing the Dhoni jersey and walking the tightrope. He falls off at one point, and the crowd gets worried and anxious. Collective gasp. But he hangs on to the wire, hauls himself back on, and continues walking, much to the relief of the crowd.

I thought: that's India. That's the Indian team in a nutshell.

A night of cricketing cliches

This video's been inescapable over the last week, and I finally checked it out last night:



OK, look. There's a lot of rhapsodising about Chennai's civility, their, um, intellectual culture, all that jazz, and yeah. I've heard it all before. It's not that I didn't like it - rhapsodising about Chennai is one of my favourite pasttimes; Chennai is the only place I will ever love in or about India - but it's the same old cliches of the urban elite. Being involved in the pre-election circus as we are now, it's hard to believe anyone can call us evolved from the tree-jumping forms we used to be, leave alone "the most civilised metro in India". Granted, the only other "metros" I've been to in India are Bangalore, Hyderabad and Delhi - so if that's true, what does it say for the rest of the Indian urban life?

We South Indians are just more paranoid. That's it. We live a 'just in case' culture that has both its advantages and disadvantages.

Am I being lazy in generalising, you ask? To that, I tell you, sir, "Hypocrite!"

Also, I kept an eye on the SA v NZ match yesterday. Right from Amla's freak dismissal, I knew NZ were in with a chance. Did I expect such a dramatic collapse from the Saffers? Not really. I don't know what to say, except, look! Another cricketing cliche: the Saffers' bad luck when it comes to big-tournament crunch-games.

Did you know--

That the English cricket team once used a bowling machine called Merlyn?

What, it's totally relevant. I came across it while researching Arthurian legend, on Wikipedia.

Why Arthurian legend, you ask? Well, knowledge for knowledge's sake, and all that jazz.

Seriously. Don't you have a hobby of link-hopping on Wikipedia? Once, I started off looking up colon cancer, and ended up reading about the Czar lineage in Russia. It's awesome fun. :D

What? There's a World Cup going on? India v Australia Q/F?

BAH.

Oh, what do we do with them?

~ The hills are alive
with the sound of muuuusiiiic.... ~

Play with the same freedom today and forever, guys, and there's nothing you can't do.

To be honest, I wanted to skim this. (Yes, I'm aware I'm being ironic.)

I've been lining up a few articles to take apart on this blog, and you'd think - given my oft-professed hero-worship of one Mahendra Singh Dhoni - that this one on Dhoni's captaincy by Ms Ugra would be on my list. You wouldn't be wrong, but, baaah. I don't know. I skimmed it - Dhoni's methods are instinctual, he should play more safe, Piyush Chawla Yusuf Pathan blah blah blah with some tangential yet cheeky references to his love of video-gaming and adventure sports (good god, woman, cricket captains have had worse hobbies in the past!). Ms Ugra's halfway snarky style also is not terribly becoming for the kind of sports writer she's supposed to be - I kind of want to keep saying, "A ha! Your grudge is showing, Ms. Ugra!" or "I C WHUT U DID THAR." as I read her stuff.

To me, it's just another example of the outpouring of the doubts that're emerging at this point in India's World Cup campaign. Oooh, Dhoni's haphazard approach to his team's composition has led to our ruin! Our ruin, I say! It's annoying, but par for the course. I trust my team. Even tomorrow, they can put up a crushing performance and these people will be falling over their feet in their rush for the thesauri to pen all the hyperbolic praises they can cook up. In the seven short years that I've been following cricket seriously, I've seen and heard enough to be pretty damn jaded.

HOWEVER.

I'm bored, and it's been a long time since I've really vented, so! I'm forcing myself to have a more in-depth look at Ms Ugra's article. *deep breath* Nothing for it. HEEERE we go. *pinches nose, takes the plunge*

The article is titled, "Is there madness in Dhoni's method?" Y'know, if you wanted to play on that expression, I'd've preferred a "to" instead of "in", but whatever. Nit-picking.

She starts off talking about a World Cup advert. Um, okay? There're about 43.8 billion of them on TV right now, but turns out she's talking about the one that goes, "The team doesn't win just like that, you've got to make it win." She then says:

Should Dhoni turn his attention away from his favourite off-field pastime of video-gaming and watch the advert, it might sound like an instruction directed at him as well.

Ahahahahaha. I must confess I haven't seen that ad, either, and my favourite past-time is watching cricket. But, hey. Whatever. It does sound like something the ad-people'll cook up this time of the year, so I concede that point. Also, not sure what to make of the reference to his love for video-gaming, or the fact that she makes some random ad sound like a freakin political documentary, but "instruction directed to him as well"? I'm not... sure what she means. Should Dhoni start inserting control chips into his players' minds so that he can make them play exactly according to his plans? Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Dhoni does fantasise about doing exactly that, given how much of a control freak he is.

She then talks about how his captaincy has been a smooth ride so far, relatively wrinkle-free. Well. Nothing succeeds like success, and all that jazz. But now, she says, NOW:

Now, suddenly, over the course of a few weeks of the World Cup, creases are beginning to show both in the Indian team and its captain. India's World Cup is still alive, but already gloomy calculations are being made as to how their place in the quarter-finals is actually not secure. For the first time since his oxygen-depleting ascent, neither is Dhoni's as captain. On Sunday against West Indies in Chennai, he will be watched closer than he has been in a long time.

I kind of want to dig up articles from the '09 controversy over the T20 WC. Y'know, the bits about the so-called Dhoni-Sehwag spat? That epic, infamous press-conference? Then the tournament itself, where his every decision of his was criticised roundly (including, I think, by Ms Ugra herself)? Or, going even further back, his decision to skip the Tests during the '08 Sri Lanka tour? Hell, even Kumble has publically disapproved of that decision, going on record saying that he believed India'd've won that series had Dhoni played. What about the '10 T20 WC tournament? What about the '09 Champions Trophy? What about his decision to play Ashwin instead of Bollinger in the Super Over in the '10 Champions League - another decision not a lot of people were happy with? What about his SOOPER-SEKRIT marriage? What about the time where he was alleged to have threatened to resign if the selectors didn't include RP Singh in the squad?

That stuff is just off the top of my head. I understand that his campaign has been much smoother compared to say, Sourav Ganguly, Rahul Dravid, Azharuddin - hell, any Indian captain, but looking at normal captaincy standards? That's pretty stressful. This is NOT the first time he and his methods have been criticised and doubted from all quarters, and it definitely will not be the last.

Then:

As startling as Dhoni's message may have been to his batsmen who played "for the crowd" on Saturday, it has not surprised them. Nor has it sent them, the India faithful will be relieved to hear, into despair or doubt. It is what Dhoni's modus operandi has always been: to speak directly, briefly and non-confrontationally to players; let them know what he believes needs to be done. In media briefings he does most of the same, but can frequently be snippy. Always, though, he will laboriously explain why he changed the batting or bowling order, chose to bat or chase, and then offer philosophical observations about hybrid fuel and life jackets.

Sweet mother of God.

I was a little surprised at the "play for the country, not the crowd" quote, too - ready with lame-ass snark about "what, people in the crowd are not part of the country, now?" but I do get what he means. The lower order seems too ready to give in to the lures of showmanship - particularly when the top order has been successful - instead of putting their head down and acknowledging when the going has gotten tough. It calls for a level of maturity that is admittedly tough to attain, especially since everybody starts complaining and whining loudly about it. Dhoni wants his batsmen to show that maturity. It makes sense.

"he has been frequently snippy"... ladies and gentlemen, I do believe we have out first "your grudge is showing!" moment. From what I've seen of Dhoni's press conferences (which, admittedly, is not much), he makes it a point to answer everything with a smile, even if he isn't forthcoming about everything. He has a cheeky way of avoiding stuff he doesn't/can't answer, and I have almost never seen him snap at any journalist/interviewer, no matter what the provocation. He doesn't drown himself in long-winded, pseudo-polite cliches, like, say, Rahul Dravid; neither does he go the "look at me! Aren't I measured and INTELLIGENT?" route of Kumara Sangakkara. If anything, he can be disarmingly to-the-point. And, as we know, reporters need vague fodder to misinterpret.

Oooh, and look, snark. I agree that Dhoni's philosophy can be bafflingly amusing sometimes, but they're harmless. And sometimes show a hell of a lot of insight. Plus, he's amazingly quotable, which I absolutely love about him.

Then she talks about some of his decisions in the World Cup so far: the ones that've provoked the most debate. The insistence on playing Piyush Chawla, for one. Yeah, yeah, I've criticised that decision roundly right from the beginning, but Dhoni has his reasons, as baffling and stupid as they are. I agree. The PC-over-Ashwin thing is a total brain-fade on the captain's part, not to mention Kirsten and the rest of the team management.

She also mentions a couple of decisions in the Nagpur match against the Saffers: the whole promoting Yusuf Pathan thing, and also choosing Nehra to bowl the final over. 'Kay. I dislike YP tremendously, but that's beside the point - he's in the team as a pinch-hitter. Period. Dhoni doesn't even ask him to bowl much; hell, Yuvraj Singh is ranked higher as a bowler, and gets mnany more overs. So, with 8-9 overs to go, several wickets in hand, Batting PP in progress, run-rate comfortably over 6.5, a guy who's been known to hit sixes at will, a guy who's had a lot of success recently against this very opposition - YOU DO THE MATH.

About Nehra bowling the final over - I remember going, "oh no. OH NO. Baaaad decision. BAAAD DECISION" at the TV while watching Dhoni hand the ball over to Nehra. Just a few minutes prior, I'd been willing to bet anything that Bhajji'd bowl the final over. Why?

1. He was smack-dab in the middle of a great spell
2. He was bowling three-four-run overs to batsmen in the slog overs even when his colleagues were getting hammered at the other end
3. It was Nehra's first match after an injury layoff.
4. Nehra had looked nowhere close to his best at any point in the match
5. NEHRA WAS NOT EVEN IN THE MIDDLE OF A SPELL. I swear to God! Zaheer finished his 10 over quota with the 49th over, bowling in tandem with Harbhajan. Bhajji had one more left in his kitty. Logic says "Harbhajan, you goddamn idiots!", but Dhoni had other ideas.

I get it, Nehra's experience in these kinds of last-over humdingers factored in Dhoni's reasoning. But what the hell, man? Don't play safe! If you'd taken a chance and gone for the spinner in the last over against a couple of bloodthirsty and desperate batsmen, there's a good chance we might've had a different result now!

I'll be expanding on this point after the next quote.

Until now Dhoni's has been captaincy by instinct over method, his own school of reasoning, and like with most captains once they gain greater control of their team, a healthy dose of obstinacy. In the last four years of his captaincy in the short game, if Dhoni had to be asked what was India's best ODI performance under his leadership, he would be choosing between the early CB Series win of 2008, an Asia Cup victory, or bilateral series wins in New Zealand and West Indies. Not such a tough choice, is it?

This "instinct-over-method" thing is a myth that irritates me every time I see/hear/read it. How is it so goddamn "instinctual" when you just said that he explains each and every decision in meticulous detail? Seriously, people! If anything, I believe that Dhoni reasons out his decisions way, way too much. He comes out to play with detailed plans in his head, and if it looks like it's not working, he builds - and executes - more plans. Not for him the "aah, whatever. Let's see what happens if I push this button." He's likely worked out every possibility, including contingency plans for if the button turns out to be a trigger for a nuclear-device. Sometimes, he just needs to say "whatever" to that brain of his and go with his gut.

"Obstinacy" - only recently? Dude, he's been a control-freak right from the beginning, and he's deeply possessive about his team - which can be a good thing and a bad thing. What about the time he insisted that seniors like Dravid and Ganguly should be dropped from the team to blood more youngsters? He was barely six months into his captaincy!

I have very, very fond memories of the CB series win - I rank it above the '07 T20 win, above the Asia Cup, above every damn thing India's won so far - hell, the crowning moment from that series is my banner for this blog. But that line's unfair to India's progress as a team over the last four years. We've won every bilateral series except the last, reached more finals than I can count, and are you forgetting the series win against SL in '08. Given the circumstances under which that came, I rank it much, much higher than our '10 Asia Cup win.

Besides, what was the point of that sentence, Ms Ugra? Dhoni's arrogance and obstinacy is somehow preventing India from winning tournaments? Their winning patterns haven't changed a bit over the last four years.

Now Dhoni's decisions, made using both reason and instinct, are backfiring often because their basic premises may be incorrect. Why should the cotton-woolling of Chawla not be interpreted as cricket's version of babysitting? [...] Or how about No. 4 being Virat Kohli's sacrosanct spot, before or after which he should ideally not be sent? Kohli is 22. Should he not be running loose wherever and whenever he is sent? Yuvraj Singh has spent all but 41 matches of his ODI career flitting between Nos. 4, 5 and 6, Rahul Dravid has kept wicket in ODIs, Sourav Ganguly broke one of the most successful ODI partnerships for India to go down to No. 3, Virender Sehwag went from being a middle-order batsman to an opener who has redefined the Test-match art itself.

Chawla is being babysat, and it sucks. I don't disagree. But it looks like that's ended, and Ashwin's comin' back, which, yay. \o/

The rest of the paragraph is giving me a headache. What IS that sentence about Virat Kohli? I don't know if my reading comprehension has broken down, or if it really makes little to no sense. Is she saying the team ought to be more flexible? Is that it? From the obligatory comments on Dravid and Ganguly, that's kind of what I can deduce. Whatever.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU, MS. UGRA. One of the main complaints regarding Kohli was that he wasn't being sent in at number four often enough! He's not a pinch-hitter, he's not the kind of batsman that Yuvraj and Dhoni are - he's the type of fussy top-order player who needs to be assured of an early enough spot in the batting order where he can settle in and work his mojo. Have you seen him at 3 and 4 over the last year? No. 4 is the only option available to him, given Sehwag, Sachin and Gambhir practically walk into nos 1, 2 and 3! I mean, weren't you just complaining about YP being pushed up and down? Or Dhoni employing himself as a floater? Dhoni has said about a billion times that he wants this order to be as flexible as possible, to match with the game-situation.

Then - OH GOD WHAT IS THIS.

To move Yusuf Pathan up the order in a match against one of the best attacks in the World Cup on a wicket that was stopping was again based on a formula that the openers had given the platform and the pace of the innings needed to be amped up. [...] Against Ireland, Pathan (30 off 24 balls, two fours three sixes) was pitch perfect. Against Dale Steyn in the Powerplay, he should have been the last option. Like all captains Dhoni also has his players of choice who are given more licence, and his team recognises instinctively who those players are. Unfortunately for Dhoni his captaincy has not coincided with the discovery of new match-winners, like those found under Sourav Ganguly, for example.

I don't know, I guess the batting order was bein' flexible when they decided to push YP up the order? Aaaalso, let me remind you of YP's recent history: against the very same opposition, the very same 'he's-so-goddamn-unplayable' Dale Steyn, in said opposition's home ground, he has played match-winning innings! Even when the rest of 'em: Tendulkar, Yuvraj, Dhoni, what-have-you, had failed. How quick we are to forget. It was worth a shot, at any rate.

Also, the nonsense with "players of choice"... "given more licence." Suuure. Dhoni plays favourites every now and then. What a shock. Hold me, I think I'm going to faint.

Another underhanded comparison with Sourav Ganguly aside, Dhoni hasn't found matchwinners? Seriously? He's not nurtured the progress of Gautam Gambhir? He's not propped up Yuvraj Singh, unleashed the bowler within him? Virat Kohli? What the hell are you going on about? It's a great disservice to these players to say that they haven't been giving match-winning performances over the last few years, and to think that the budding players under Dhoni's captaincy can't blossom into match-winners later.

No, really. Think about it. You call Dhoni a Ganguly-discovery. But apart from the 148 against Pak, he only started to come into his own under Dravid, and only under his own captaincy did he grow into his potential! Yuvraj? Was going nowhere, until Dhoni gave him a bit of rope. Ditto to Harbhajan. And Irfan Pathan? Yeeeah, right. Who else? Ashish Nehra? Has just come from the wilderness. Zaheer Khan? Terribly erratic before he finally decided to get his butt over to England and play a couple of seasons of county cricket. Mohammad Kaif? I laugh at you.

When a captain's instinct starts to head off in a direction where things do not go the way he wants, they sometimes overwhelm and undermine reason.

She provides the example of Harbhajan not being allowed to bowl immediately at Duminy, despite Duminy's weakness against the former. That's not a failure of instinct; that's Dhoni being too rigid, like I've said before.

THEN she discusses the Harbhajan v Nehra decision for the last over in Nagpur:

The decision between Nehra and Harbhajan Singh became a 50-50 toss-up, with the spinner offering to bowl the 49th so that the team's most nerveless bowler, Zaheer Khan, could send down the 50th. If the 49th goes well - like it did for the Indians against South Africa in Nagpur, where Zaheer conceded four - the man bowling the 50th at least has a buffer. So far it had gone to Dhoni's plan. Nehra was the moment Dhoni gambled, because he has been India's best ODI bowler over the last year, the go-to man at the death.

[...]

Nehra has bowled the final over for India four times in his career, the two now forgotten instances being Karachi, the first ODI of the electric 2004 India-Pakistan series and against West Indies in a 2005 tri-series in Colombo, which took India to the final. Nagpur was the first time India lost. Before the World Cup he had taken 73 wickets since his comeback into the Indian team in June 2009. Why should Dhoni not have gone to him? Other than the fact that he may not have been warmed up not having bowled for 12 overs. It was a logical gamble that didn't work. Pathan and Chawla are the illogical gambles - they were perhaps doomed to tank.

(I can never forget that Karachi match, btw. Fond, fond memories. That Kaif catch to dismiss Abdul Razzaq, the way he smashed into Hemang Badani, practically tripped over his face but still managed to hold on to the ball? EPIC.)

I'm glad you have given it the Seal of Logical Approval, but this works against your argument that YP should not have been promoted. Wasn't Dhoni going by history there too? How are the two decisions different? Shouldn't Dhoni have been a little more reckless and thought about giving Harbhajan the final over?

We finally come to the end of the article:

As much as Dhoni wants his batsmen to "curb their instincts", it is the best time for his leadership to internalise the same message. Since his debut for India in 2004, he has changed his batting to eliminate risk, yet he will not bat higher up the order as Ganguly repeatedly beseeches him to do in both commentary and column. He has a better average and 100-plus strike rate batting at either No. 3 or 4, but has done so in only 32 of 162 innings. His keeping has vastly improved from the 2007 version, and he still remains one of India's better runners between wickets. The match versus West Indies may have to mark the moment that his leadership evolves in a different direction. Or it could take a route he would rather not contemplate.

Um. Y'know, I want to see Dhoni up the order, too. I really do. Who will he have to displace, then? Sachin, Sehwag, Gambhir, even Kohli - outta the question. Yuvraj? I don't know, he does play you-go-first-I-go-first a lot with Yuvraj, mostly when he wants a right-left combo in the middle. Thing is, it's a much tougher decision than it looks on the outside. He's fashioning himself as a finisher - the guy with the levellest head in the team, the guy who can come in, take stock of things and play according to it. To whom else can he entrust this role? YP? I don't think so.

Yeah, the match against the Windies is going to be pretty important. Probably not for the same reasons that a lot of people think, but yeah. Whatcha gonna do, Mahi? Throw caution to the winds for once?

(Hint: PLAY ASHWIN!)

WHAT IN THE WORLD -

Dear MSD,

Hi there. Big, big fan here. I mean, I like to be pretty objective about cricketers in general, but I have never been able to criticise you. So, yeah. I like and admire you a lot, and I try and defend your every single decision, even if sometimes they boggle the mind - because, hey, you can't argue with that stellar captaincy record, yeah?

HOWEVER.

What the friggin hell were you thinking, choosing Chawla over Ashwin today? Chawla was utter and complete crap against friggin Ireland on a track where YUVRAJ SINGH, part-time galore, picked up FIVE WICKETS for next-to-nothing, and you've got a perfectly good and fit specialist spinner in your squad, and you still pick Chawla?

Ashwin has played under you for several matches, has been your key player in winning two tournaments in a single year, and you still pick Chawla?

Ashwin can bowl maidens in the Powerplay overs in twenty20 matches to the likes of Adam Gilchrist and Sachin Tendulkar and you still pick Chawla?

Ashwin has proven himself to be an even better lower-order batsman than Chawla - just ask Tamil Nadu in the last domestic season - and you still pick Chawla?

LET'S SEE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY.

"Compared to Ashwin, Chawla needs more practice so we decided to play him today. Ashwin is mentally stronger, and it doesn't matter against whom he comes in, he will do well."

OH, I SEE. SO ASHWIN CAN JUST BE KICKED TO THE WAYSIDE WHILE YOU INDULGE THE CRAP-PERFORMER.

What the hell, Mahi. What the hell.

Yours in furious bewilderment,
M.

EDIT:

Dhoni explains further.

[Dhoni] said he had been pleased with Chawla's performance against Netherlands - he had bowled with a "lot more freedom" - and reminded the world of Chawla's emotional career history. We should remember, he said, that Chawla had made his debut "quite early... he was still a teenager. He comes back in the side in a big tournament like this and people all over try to criticise him from left to right, so you can imagine his state of mind. So I think it was a very crucial game for him."

Dhoni explained that Ashwin, two years older, was not quite so fragile. "I know he is mentally very tough and up for a challenge or competition. It is good to have someone in the reserves who has mental stability." Ashwin's composure is clearly being seen as an investment that would be cashed in on during the knock-out stages while, in the early half of the World Cup, India wants to spread the equilibrium around.

"You want your bowlers to be in a very good mental state in the second half of the tournament, where you play against the best teams and you will be participating in the knock-out stages - that was one of the main reasons why we picked Piyush ahead of Ashwin." By doing so, Dhoni said the Indians were set for an ideal scenario knowing that the bowling now could be changed on situational demand.

God save us from the pop-psychologists in cricketing garb.

Apparently Ashwin's so-called mental stability will compensate for the rustiness and tension he is bound to feel when he is unceremoniously thrust into a knock-out game and expected to run through the opposition line-up. And if he doesn't? All the blame's on him.

Thanks a lot, Mahi. You might want to re-check your psychology degree.

Now, seriously.

IF I HEAR/READ ONE MORE CRACK ABOUT CHENNAI'S WEATHER, I'M GOING TO START THROWING PUNCHES.


Seriously, people. It's getting old. Have you ever been to Kochi? To Hyderabad? Hell, even to Delhi in the middle of summer?

Poor Chennai. It gets all the bad rep.

O.o

*giggles*

Oh, we loves ODI, we loves ODI so much - no! We hate ODI, we hates ODI so much!

So, okay, I don't really have the Gollum-voice, but you get the picture.

The World Cup's underway, and after the first week that consisted mostly of unremarkable minnow-bashing, people are still yawning and waiting for something good to come up. That might start today; after all, today, we have the Saffers taking on the Windies, and come this weekend, three very interesting matches: Aus v NZ, SL v Pak and, of course, the kicker: Ind v Eng on Sunday.

So: looking back at the first week of the World Cup, the trend seems to be the Test playing nations trampling all over the, uh, "minnow"-teams. The ICC has already decided to trim the participating nations down to ten next year, which means, there's not much scope or incentive in the future for the Associates. But hey, given the ass-whuppin' the Associates got over the past week, 'sall justified, right?

I disagree.

1. India v Bangladesh: look, what's this? 2001? Wake up! Bangladesh aren't minnows anymore: they're minnows with steroids. Force to be taken somewhat seriously, if not entirely reckoned with.

2. Kenya v everybody: I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. For being the semifinalists of the 2003 edition, the African team has been painful to watch this year. I mean, come on, their match against NZ lasted less than the duration of a regular T20 match! And it was in Chennai! And some people had the gall to say that the crowd was very thin for that match. Like I've said, if the circus performers have nothing to offer, the seats ain't gonna fill.

3. Australia v Zimbabwe: On paper, you'd think: yeah, the Zimbabweans did kind of put up a fight in the first innings. Pity they didn't have a better batting line-up. For the unfortunates like me who actually watched it on TV? SNORING AWAY, I TELL YOU. I didn't sign up to watch Shane Watson bat like Rahul Dravid on valium.

4. Sri Lanka v Canada: I have a couple of uncles in Canada. I tell 'em: try out for the Canadian cricket-team. All you need is to be born in the sub-continent, and have a half-way decent knowledge of how to play cricket. All said and done, though, I liked the Canadian team's attitude. They probably looked the most sprightly and enthusiastic of all the Associates thus far.

5. England v Netherlands: This was the one worthwhile match this whole week. I mean, it was pure gold. At first, England's shenanigans on the field, the Pietersen-Anderson gaffe, the Swann drop, the misfielding, negligent field placements - England were losing it. Sure, they won eventually, but Netherlands dragged it till the 49th over, and ten Doeschate was utterly magnificent. A century - AND THEN two wickets? Awesome.

Every match kind of exemplifies what's wrong and wonderful about this format, I think. But, really. Let the real World Cup begin, please?

... What.

Apparently, today was India's first World Cup warm-up game. I have no idea how I wasn't aware of that (except, maybe I do.)

Turns out the following things happened:

1. Collective Batting Fail from the Indians as we slump to 138/8.

2. Pathan and Ashwin (yay!) contribute in propping us to a decent 214.

3. Aussies rampage to 118/1.

4. Piyush Chawla picks up a four-fer.

5. Australia bowled out for 176.

6. We win by 38 runs.

7. The next warm-up is in Chennai.

What in the world is going on, people. Yet another win in this fashion... if anybody needs me, I'll be in that corner trying to recover from whiplash.

Facetiously uptight

Right. Now that Yusuf Pathan came out of nowhere and played a match-winning hand in South Africa, I think we've pretty much established that this series? Is totally awesome. I'm not a fan of YP, have never been (but given the choice is between Jadeja and YP, I'd go with the latter any day), but stuff like this is what ultimately makes the game so interesting.

I trawled through cyberspace for some good match reports (because for some reason I am just not able to stay up beyond 11 PM these past few weeks) when I stumbled across this.

While reading it, I was mostly annoyed and maybe a little amused (go figure) but guess who wrote it? Ayaz Memon. The dude who gave us the running commentary during the IPL auction and whose writing I used to like once upon a time. I have since lost a lot of respect for his 'expert opinion' after he became one of the yammering heads on TV, appearing in nearly every other match preview/review show, hobnobbing with the likes of Arun Lal and Navjot Singh Sidhu (and Sameer Kocchar!). IMO, nobody can come out of that without being tainted.

That said, the article was still annoying, and I want to pick apart a few points. He talks about the selection of the Indian squad for the World Cup, and how he thinks it's flawed. It's titled "Don't discount luck. And, oh, positive energy." Straight away, a laboured attempt at dismissive snark. Not working, Mr. Memon. You're trying too hard already.

This is how it starts off:

The vicissitudes of life could not have been made evident to Rohit Sharma and S. Sreesanth more dramatically than through the events of the past few days. In the Indian Premier League (IPL) auctions, Sharma fetched $2.1 million (Rs9.5 crore) from Mumbai Indians and Sreesanth raked in just under a million dollars as the talismanic player for the Kochi franchise.

A little over a week later, however, both these talented young players found themselves in the rubbish heap after the Indian team for the World Cup had been chosen. Do the IPL franchise owners know something about them that the Indian selectors don’t?

Let's see, now. Piyush Chawla, the other "surprising selection", raked in almost a million dollars in the IPL auction himself. No, I have no idea why all the franchises went after him, either. Pretty much like Sreesanth, eh?

Also, both Robin Uthappa and Jaidev Unadkat "raked in" a whole lot more money than, say, VVS Laxman and Ishant Sharma. Are you implying that means they are better? By using the IPL logic in a selection process for an event that is drastically different from the IPL, you have just shot yourself in the proverbial foot, Mr. Memon. Fail.

He then makes a couple of valid points about the team being short of a batsman. He suggests that the selectors ought to have gone with Dinesh Kaarthick or Parthiv Patel, who can serve the dual function of being an effective batsman, and reserve 'keeper. True enough. As I understand it, though, Chawla and Ashwin were included not just to add depth and variety to the attack, but also because of their all-round skills. I haven't seen much of this batting skills of theirs (although Ashwin did play a couple of crucial knocks for CSK in IPL 2010), but hey, what do I know. The selectors should have a much better idea. Still, I accept that as a good argument.

Then, the whole tone of the article changes:

Many serious cricket followers were not amused with chief selector Krishnamachari Srikkanth’s pleas to the public that they should send out positive vibes to the Indian team chosen for the World Cup.

[...]

Given the passion that cricket arouses in India, Srikkanth’s “everything’s fine, now let’s all create an aura of positive energy to win” seems like puerile mumbo-jumbo.

Because sports? Is SRS BSNZ, yo.

I mean, what the hell was that supposed to be? "serious cricket followers"... "not amused"... "puerile mumbo-jumbo". I thought sports is supposed to be about fun and positivity. Sure, it's become more of a business venture these days, and a very big option as an actual profession, but dude. Don't take a crap over a couple of fairly innocuous - if cliched - statements because the bowler you thought would be selected didn't make it!

Also, that was probably Srikkanth's way of saying, "look, we've selected who we thought were the 15 best men to represent the country in this shindig; you might as well go along with it." That's pretty much every selector's line, practically their prerogative, as much it is ours to criticise their selections. Why single out the man and his turn of phrase?

I say "single out" because Mr. Memon just does not stop going on and on about it:

Before I come to that, however, a bit about the man is in order. Srikkanth is among the more endearing cricketers I have known. He is unpretentious and chirpy, often brazen enough to call a spade a shovel and sometimes flippant enough to call a shovel a tablespoon.

(okay, I have to admit I love that last line)

When he became chief selector in late 2008, the appointment did not meet with universal validation in Indian cricket. I know of several of his peers who sniggered that he lacked the gravitas for the job.

[...]

I suspect this image was a hangover from his playing days. An engineer by qualification, Srikkanth was anything but precision-driven in his approach in the middle.

[...]

Such thoughtlessness was seen to extend to most areas of his cricket. His carefree batting—imagine a watered down version of Virender Sehwag—was considered irresponsible even if it was exciting and his tenure as Test player earned him perhaps more censure than approval from critics and experts.

Mavericks were not readily endured in Indian cricket those days, but to be honest, Srikkanth lacked even half the consistency of Sehwag to convince his detractors otherwise. In limited overs cricket, he was a major player with his derring-do and arguably the most influential batsman after Kapil Dev in India’s 1983 World Cup triumph.

[...]

If the rapid rise of the Indian team in the International Cricket Council (ICC) rankings since he became chief selector is any indication, then perhaps the “positive energy” syndrome he talks about may have worked.

And all of that is important, why? And look at those descriptions - "watered-down version of Sehwag", "irresponsible even if it was exciting," "lacked even half the consistency of Sehwag" - wow, I can see you have a high opinion of the man. Also, isn't there supposed to be a selection committee? I don't know why people fail to mention the fact that there are supposed to be five other men who make the decisions too. Srikkanth makes himself an open target, I admit - he is just so in-your-face, cheerily loud and says really crazy things some times, and I loved it when he started whistling when Sehwag was blasting away merrily in some Test match or the other - but at the end of the day he's making decisions based on the input he receives from the other committee members, and more importantly, the captain and the coach.

Then, again, the article changes tone:

I am being facetious, of course, but interestingly, historically, India’s fortunes in World Cup cricket have defied conventional logic. In 1983, for instance, to predict that Kapil Dev’s team would win the title was challenging sanity. But the impossible happened; India beat the mighty West Indies and the cricket world was turned upside down.

[...]

India had terrific teams in both the 1987 and 1996 World Cups. Mind you, both these tournaments were played in the subcontinent where conditions would suit the home team, but both times India lost in the semi-finals.

Again, in the T20 format, for the inaugural World Championship in South Africa, India were the last country to agree to play. [...] Against all expectations, Mahendra Singh Dhoni’s team triumphed and turned the cricket world downside up once again.

There is no gainsaying the fact that meticulous planning and perceptive team selection are of enormous value in sports. But in a major tournament, unlikely heroes are frequently thrown up and the luck factor cannot be discounted entirely.

Okaaay, so ultimately, what was your point? "This squad is imbalanced and wrong - and by the way, let me tell you all about how carefree and irresponsible a guy the chairman of the selection committee used to be, implying that his opinion can't be taken seriously - but what the hell. Selection doesn't matter to the Indian team in World Cups anyway." Really?

I mean, if this article was supposed to be snarky - like the title suggested - it would've worked. But it wasn't. It jumped from seriousness to sarcasm to outright dismissal like it was on LSD. Inconsistent writing, or Mr. Memon couldn't make up his mind? I don't know.

He finishes with mentioning his team for the World Cup - which excluded Nehra and Chawla and had Sreesanth and Rohit Sharma instead - and finally this:

But in hindsight, I am prepared to accept that the committee has done a decent job. Some luck Dhoni and Co. will need. Ah yes, positive energy from supporters too, as Srikkanth says.

Now where have I kept the beads for the winning mantra?

Ahahaha. :|

I expect so much better from you, Mr. Memon. If you'd just laid out your arguments for why you think Sree/Rohit/Kaarthick should've been included and why Nehra/Chawla should've been left out, I would've enjoyed it a lot more. Instead, what I got was a whole lot of Srikkanth's backstory and failed sarcasm.

In the mental crawlspaces of the rich

I watch the IPL. Hell, I enjoy watching the IPL. 'Tis probably a testament to how much time I've spent trawling through the muck that poses as the Internet over the past two years that I actually feel guilty saying that. The IPL is the Root of All Evil, right? Right, sure. I'm not arguing against that, honest. But it's fun, and it gives me something to look forward to every evening for two months of a year. Like the only reality TV show that's worth watching. Plus, it has a team that represents Chennai and a whole host of players I adore and admire, and given how much of my investment in this sport is purely emotional, I find a lot to get behind.

So this time when I heard they were televising the player auction for 2011 (did they do that the first time? I don't remember), I watched it with much anticipation.

Aaand, uh. Okay. I spent most of the first hour with my mandible stuck firmly to the ground. Because, holy shit, it was mindblowing, in the most perverse way possible. After a while, I got into the rhythm of the whole thing. It was easy to forget, after some time, that they were dealing with actual players; it was like watching a gigantic Fantasy-Team game - can you fit in your dream team within your budget before your opponents do? Play and find out! - and I was getting behind the CSK contingent, praying that we managed to buy back the likes of Ashwin, Murali, Dougie and the rest. It may have gotten a little out of hand (my mother informs me I was raving put that paddle down, crazy Kochi lady! at the TV while the bidding war for Muralitharan was going on between CSK and Kochi, but hey) but it was fun, you know? It was only when the second day came about, and even the team owners looked like they were fooling around and treating the whole thing as a game, that I began to feel queasy. To their credit, though, I thought the CSK contingent remained serious throughout, hardly cracked a smile, and mostly left during the so-called "reauction" at the very end, when they were pretty sure that they'd finished what they'd started out to do. (but then again, the owners barely grinned even when we won the trophy last year, so maybe they're just naturally sourpusses).

People think that this is shocking and demeaning to cricket. I mean, sure, okay. I've always thought that the IPL is just more of a flamboyant circus that doesn't hesitate to show its garishly-painted butt while the rest of cricket is a circus that pretends it's not and covers itself in mouldy trappings in the name of heritage.

I was wondering just how surreal it must've been to sit in that auction room, as part of one of the contingents. Or maybe that's just me, and the owners were perfectly grounded even as astronomical sums of money were splashed about on people they couldn't tell from Adam (give me one person from the team that bought him who can even pronounce "Francois du Plessis"). I don't know. My belief is that everybody who signed up for this circus - franchise owners and players both - knew what they were getting into. They knew what lay ahead, what was likely to happen. And apparently, 353 of them were perfectly fine with it.

Is there a sense of wrongness to all of this, especially given the corruption that's rampant in the IPL's short history, and all the malingering and power-plays in the administration? That the IPL as an incentive is skewing the priorities of whole generations of young cricketers? Certainly.

Can I bring myself to care? Not really. My one explanation would be that cricket seems to be perennially caught in crisis; so much so that I think it's the only way the sport survives. Australian cricket is in crisis after being walloped by the English; Mumbai cricket is in crisis after failing to reach the Ranji semis for the first time in a billion years; cricketing administration is in crisis because Australia and England aren't calling the shots anymore the BCCI is throwing its money-bloated, corrupt stinking weight around; the inundation of Twenty20 is bringing out the basest instincts out of a generation of cricketing innocents, and will nobody think of the children?! But to be completely honest, I don't care about this the same way a lot of don't really care about the stuff that's happening in the rest of the world. If we were to judge ourselves hypocrites by watching the IPL, then there is not one person in the whole world who is not a hypocrite, in some walk of life or the other. Mind you, this is not an attempt at justification. I'm just calling it as I see it. A spade a spade - and maybe occasionally, a shovel.

Every generation has its own demons to grapple; the greatest enemy of our generation is our apathy.

Stttraaap in, folks!

Iiit's the battle of the century!

In this corner, we have... Dale Steyn! 6 feet plus and the best fast bowler in the world, watch as he rips them in at speeds of more than 90 miles an hour! He makes the ball nip and swing and bounce, and hell, do the salsa!

In this corner, we have... Sachin Tendulkar! This little colossus amasses runs not by the hundreds, but by the thousands! He has conquered the very best in international cricket until now... can he do so now?

WE SHALL SEE!!!!!!

Three things

1. Who in the world is Michael Beer?

I'm reminded of my up-ended jigsaw-puzzle analogy (because I'm self-obsessed like that). What's next? Warney's Sunday drinking buddy?

2. Why, thank you, Gauti. We must all bask in Ashwin's awesomeness. *basks*

(Are you listening to/reading this, CSK? You can always replace Vijay any old day, but not Ashwin! Hold on to the man and release Vijay! Come on, now!)

3. I thought I could go to the match yesterday, I really did. I had an exam in the afternoon, but once I finished that, I thought, hey, I could go home and take up my friend's offer (an open invitation to the match, because he's awesome like that).

I checked the score once the exam finished: NZ 103 all out. I rechecked after I got home: India 52/2.

Not much point in going after that.

(but it didn't rain, which I'm willing to count as a miracle, because just a week ago this city was almost drowning in a torrential downpour that lasted for more than 2 days).