2S
Techie. Writer. Photographer.
December 9, 2007 at 9:00 pm · Filed under cricket
A run riot. India ended the day at 350+, Ganguly still unbeaten and a jittery Karthik for company. That was yesterday, all about recovery.
Today, they plundered.
Considering that Karthik isn’t exactly the most confident batsman around right now, his twenty-odd runs were valuable, in the sense, they contributed to a fifty-run stand with Ganguly. With Karthik gone, one would think that Kumble was simply waiting for Ganguly to make the double century that was long overdue, and then make the declaration himself. In walked Pathan, who - without causing the slightest of distractions - went on to score big himself. As everyone’s eyes turned to Ganguly, who did cross the two-hundred run mark, Pathan danced down the track, sending many a sphere into the stands.
At 198, Ganguly pushed one into the covers, sprinting the first one. As he tapped the willow on the crease and turned back, it was starting to sink in: maiden double ton for a fighter, who, with this innings, has sealed his case in what could be termed as the finest comeback ever in the history of Indian cricket. Brilliant attitude, and the runs did the talking, prompting a name-change from ‘100rav Ganguly’ to ‘200rav Ganguly’.
Pathan, meanwhile, was on the verge of his century too. With Ganguly departing - as Bangalore stood to acknowledge the finest innings they’ve seen in recent times - and Kumble and Harbhajan doing little to worry the scorers, Pathan stood at the other end at 96. When a nervous Ishant Sharma walked out to face Arafat - who, on debut, had devoured five Indian batsmen, a feat that cannot be appreciated less - Pathan walked with him. ‘Stay put’, he must’ve said. The 6″4 Delhi pacer saw a few ones out, bringing Pathan on strike at the start of the over.
Irfan Pathan might’ve thought he’ll never get another chance ever. Stepping out, crashing the ball over midwicket for six, he raised his bat in acknowledgment, as a few Paki cricketers went up to congratulate him. It was a fine innings, finer that it seemed, because it came quickly and it allowed a certain Bengal Tiger to score his maiden double.
Interestingly, eleven Pakistani cricketers had silently clapped when Sourav Ganguly scored his two-hundredth run. They weren’t even around when Yuvraj Singh made his century, which - with all due respect to the bowling that doesn’t deserve it - was an innings that demolished both, the bowlers figures and their morale. But when Pathan - with four sixers to his name - made his hundredth run, yours truly was a tad surprised to see the Pakistani players all buddy-buddy with the batsman. Hello? Talk about favoritism.
I don’t expect much webspace to be wasted on this incident, and if truth be told, it might not even be worth the ink. But it pains me to see that on a cricketing field. Batsman walks in, scores a ton and raises the bat. Reason enough to appreciate, one would think. Well, whatever.
The tail didn’t wag, it just didn’t, and India wrapped up well in excess of six hundred, three lefties doing the trick. It gave India a shot at the Pakistani batsmen, with a little under thirty overs of play left, Pathan and Sharma were expected to be in business. While a few tough chances went down, and Sharma struggled to find his feet - literally - before bowling a few beauties at Hameed, Kumble brought himself on from one end, and Ganguly from the other.
Well, the first Kumble over was bludgeoned apart by Butt. Crashing him on the leg side for boundaries, respect for the local lad be damned. But Anil Kumble is the kind of man who brings more than sheer bowling to the wicket. With the leggie comes unmatched intensity, patience and perseverance. Hameed eventually fell, as India had drawn first blood, before Younis Khan walked in, sending a message to the team. No night watchman, folks, I’m here and I want to bat.
While the scoreboard remained stuck on 59/1 for thirty deliveries, and as the scores took a nap or two, the intensity in the match and amongst the Indians was diminishing as quickly as the fading light. Not just the Indians on the field, but the ones off it too. We stifled yawns as the curd-rice from lunch was taking effect, before yawning away to glory, and were about to fall asleep ourselves before the umpires put us out of our misery and clipped the bails out.
A boring end to an otherwise interesting day, where Pathan and Ganguly made mockery of an attack that lacked any respectability except for what arrived in the form of Yasir Arafat’s five-for. And Bangalore had seen an international double-ton.
Incidentally, we met Chacha Cricket, who interestingly showed a bit of attitude to click a snap with him. Brotherhood and common-sense prevailed, and yours truly happily formed a frame with Vis, but not before draping the tri-color over the three of us.
Sorry folks, but chacha, yeh hai India ;o)
Here are a few other snaps of this blogger with the pals (Vis, PJ, N Murthy) and the crowd.
December 8, 2007 at 8:25 pm · Filed under cricket
Sunshine. Blessed, divine sunshine. The gloom, the trepidation of showers, and the possibilities of a juicy wicket and a slippery outfield were all gone. A day tailored, very timely by whatever supernatural force exists up there, for the lovely game of cricket.
The Kolkata stalemate meant that all eyes follow this city, for the third and final Test. India are one up, and would love to seal a series victory against the visiting neighbors. Pakistan, after a horrible start to the series, found a lifeline thanks to the twin-century stand between Misbah-ul-Haq and Kamran Akmal. In fact, that partnership didn’t just steady the Paki ship, it sprung the innings, the match and the series to life, setting it up for the final venue.
Bangalore. She had beckoned. And we were there to answer her.
Pakistan took the intensity right into the first session, as Arafat, with his nagging line and assistance from the track, snapped up the early wickets. One would think that Dravid had the perfect opportunity to break the jinx at this stadium, what he’d refer to as ‘home’ more than the structure he owns in Indiranagar. Arafat, however, thought otherwise. Four wickets in a hurry, and Bangalore went silent. Stunned, really. We watched, open-mouthed, as the ball scraped the bottom edge of Laxman’s bat, crashing into the woodwork. Arafat and the Pakistanis were celebrating as Laxman sauntered to the pavilion like a corpse to the coffin. To say that India were in the worst trouble they’ve ever been this tour is an understatement.
Until he came. And saw. And scored. And how.
As a nervous Karthik had padded up, expecting to see an early outing in the middle, out walked Yuvraj who in all certainty is in the form of his life. In Ganguly he found a stable partner, fresh from a Eden century, as one defiant, experienced lefty met the kind of batsman who murders bowlers effortlessly. Pure talent. Pakistan knew that they had to get this man early.
I can’t match the literature on CricInfo, so I’ll save the reporter’s version of it. From the stands, it was Yuvraj Singh all the way. A fresh, ironed-out white kit that didn’t need mere aesthetics to stand out. Almost every time willow met leather, the sound was sweet, sugarcoated. Ganguly’s timing was impeccable, but the flair, power and flamboyance that Yuvraj brought to the crease really set the tone for the rest of the innings. If Ganguly constructed, Yuvraj demolished. As the senior player milked the bowling, the youth drained it. A hundred run partnership, two fifties in the bag, and to the Pakis, the sunshine didn’t seem as inviting as it did earlier.
When Yuvraj did bring up his hundred - and in what style, I might add - he leapt, mid-air, punching it in delight. As the volcano of happiness erupted, the camera switched straight away to Dilip Vengsarkar. I have always maintained that, if there ever is a challenge that India has and shouldn’t mind, it ought to be which players to pick. The selectors now have an uphill task: with Laxman’s century and Jaffer’s double in Kolkata, and now Yuvraj’s century, who really are the best fourteen or fifteen to play?
Yuvraj raced to the hundred-forties in no time, almost unnoticed, as Ganguly crafted run after run, slashing the odd boundary through the off-side, an area of the field where, as someone famously said, he comes only second to God. When the century did come up, finally, the Bengal Tiger just took a few steps towards his partner who was sprinting towards him. Losing the helmet, he raised his arms and the bat, acknowledging the applause from his team mates.
Meanwhile, Bangalore had erupted, forgetting the Dravid dismissal. Local, shmocal. The city loves Sourav. Period.
Younis Khan and the rest of his team, in the process, were reduced to mere spectators. And if the damage could be mapped physically, Mohammed Sami and Yasir Arafat would have a bruise or two, surely. When the three-hundred run partnership came up, one would think that Yuvraj was favorite to get to two-hundred before lunch tomorrow, before he played a shot he would regret for some time to come. Pouching the ball safely, Faisal Iqbal ran to the bowler, Sami, as Younis Khan joined the huddle, not before congratulating Yuvi on the way. Shaking his head, the ‘irreplaceable’ left-hander walked back.
Needless to say, we were on our feet. What an innings! What strokeplay! I distinctly remember a particular pull-shot right after tea, High backlift, on his toes, shoulder coming into play, and as the ball met bat, it met a fatal blow for the delivery. The ball went scorching past the ground, smearing the ropes before crashing into the midwicket fence. Yuvraj’s willowed stick could not have been more expressive or authoritative. The bowler walked back, and though the cheek wasn’t red, the face showed that he had just been slapped. And slapped hard.
Dinesh Karthik ended the day without any hiccups, as India slumped, struggled, and then recovered in style. Breaking record after another, Yuvraj and Ganguly demonstrated to a thirsty audience what dominance and batsmanship is all about. As a spectator, I was more than pleased. I had come along to the stadium amidst contradictory weather reports that we would see rain today. The last time I walked into Chinnaswamy for a match, Australia amassed 306 before the rain-Gods ruined the match. I was wary of the showers.
Tell you what, it rained today. A torrent of boundaries, and sitting in an elevated stand behind backward point or mid-wicket, depending on which end you’re bowling from, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
There are two kinds of showers I love. One from the Gods. The other from the wicket. Today, I confirm. They’re both divine.
November 23, 2007 at 9:05 am · Filed under cricket
When in search of an answer, you first turn to God. In which case, you turn to Google. I tried to figure out, in the last twelve months, who’s the most popular amongst India’s big three from the Indian internet users.
This link suggests that it’s Tendulkar, hands down.
Ironically, the only time Dravid extracted more popularity from the Little Master was when he resigned as captain of India! Shows what it takes to get the crowd away from Sachin.
GoogleTrends also suggests that the only city he loses as Mr. Popular - to Ganguly - is Calcutta. Bangalore, however, still has Tendulkar ranked higher than Dravid. It figures - the Bongs are more loyal to the son of their state than the Bangs are.
Personally, I dislike Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar for one simple reason: he makes blogging difficult. I mean, you’ve written this awesome piece on why he should be kicked out, you go to CricInfo and hunt for his stats, you spend days tweaking them to sell your absurd idea of leaving him out, you refine your blog posts, you get people to proof-read it, and just before hitting ‘Publish’, lad walks out cool as a cucumber and scores a 90 or two.
A waste of time, effort and draft space on the blog, I tell you.
October 13, 2007 at 12:06 am · Filed under cricket
Vengsarkar has been yapping, Sachin states the obvious - performance over age - and the world is writing all about the big three.
A quick look at the trio, probably India’s best servants of cricket in recent times. Let’s not even get into stats, reputation or their services until date. Unquestionable. Here’s what I think of each of them.
Sachin Tendulkar
Worshipped as if he were God Himself. I had gone for the first ODI at the Chinnaswamy Stadium, and I can tell you that Tendulkar is still the biggest crowd-puller. The roar that went up when the 5′5 cricketing genius graced the third-man boundary was deafening. There is no bigger name in Indian cricket, and only a handful might compete with him for popularity. The word ‘Endulkar’ is enough to invite the wrath of millions.
Memories - April 1998 - Sandstorm. Sachin Tendulkar murdered the might of the Australian attack. Kasprowicz was taken to the cleaners. Damien Fleming felt all kind of pain except physical. It’s not every day you see Shane Warne bowl a googly, only to see it screaming over the sight-screen for six. It’s not every day you see him hang his head in shame and walk back to the ropes, like a prisoner sentenced to the gallows.
Tendulkar had made it clear. He’s boss.
Verdict - His inconsistency has been worrying. Dropping him doesn’t make sense, because even the off-color champion is an asset to the team, and not a burden. Tendulkar has the aggression to step it up, his arm is still strong and he can chip in with the occasional off-breaks when Bhajji gets hammered. Useful, do retain.
Rahul Dravid
He isn’t nicknamed ‘The Wall’ for anything. Most bowlers, until last year, would have rather broken through Fort Knox. Dravid played two crucial roles during the Ganguly-Wright ‘revival’ of Indian cricket. First, he doubled up as a wicketkeeper, allowing India the extra batsman. Second, he played around the explosive middle order (the Yuvis and Kaifs) and the tail (the Agarkars and Khans), becoming India’s best and most clinical finisher in recent times.
Memories - Dravid has scored many memorable hundreds and fifties in winning causes, but I recall one innings against New Zealand. First day after marriage, Dravid walks out, scores 50 in 22 balls. Mind you, none of those were remotely slogs, all perfect cricketing shots. Never seen better timing ever. Here’s a batsman who can drop it short, sneak the singles, play the big-shot, pull on bouncy tracks, and evade the bouncer with the ease of slicing through cake, as even Tendulkar and Ganguly would clumsily play all over it, ducking in fright.
Verdict - The dip in form has been horribly worrying, and without the ‘keeper role anymore, Dravid will need to really turn it on towards the end of this ODI series to keep the critics mum. Personally, I’d like to see Dravid call it quits from limited-overs cricket soon, while focusing on Tests. Dravid has been a great adapter and a greater servant, and though he’s the safest pair of hands in the slips, he needs to make room for agility. What Dravid brings to the team is rock-solid stability in the middle order, a role that probably few can fill. There is unfortunately no one in the Indian team who can match his temperament, and that would certainly be India’s worry in a side without the Wall.
Sourav Ganguly
What do you say of this bloke? He might be ‘princely’ and stubborn, a tad lazy too, but aggression knows few limits in the presence of this Bengal tiger. One of the few Indians who mustered up the guts to take the attack to the opposition, once regarded as the finest on the off-side after God Himself, Sourav Ganguly has made a great comeback this year, and though his fitness looms under a huge question-mark, he makes India’s best bet as an opener alongside the great Tendulkar.
Memories - Muttiah Muralitharan is probably capable of turning the ball on glass. In he hops, the face contorted in determination, the ball leaves the fingers. It’s the doosra. Ganguly has stepped out, gets to the pitch of the ball, and lofts it as only he can, banging it dead straight. Long-on and long-off are reduced to mere spectators. The sight-screen shudders in fright. Fewer sights can better that if you wear Blue.
Verdict - F is for fitness, a worry for the man. Ganguly hasn’t been bowling much either, and with Gambhir showing excellent signs of strong maturity, one is tempted to see dada retire to Test cricket, although knowing the fighter in, I’d put my money on him coming out tops against adversity yet again. He still hasn’t managed to work his away around the shorter one which has more than troubled his career, so I’d like to see Ganguly quit at the peak than be ushered out of the team due to lack of form.
Having mentioned it all, there really is no substitute for merit. Performance should drive selection, always, as reputation counts for nothing in a new game. For instance, let’s say, three poor consecutive performances is enough to create doubt in the selectors’ minds, and with the likes of Raina and Badrinath knocking the doors, and with Karthik already at the porch, a fourth or fifth poor performance should put things beyond doubt.
Personally, I believe that Test cricket is indeed the ‘real’ form of cricket, if that does exist. It is in Tests where you really apply your skills and tactics. Bowlers work really hard for their wickets in Tests. Batsman work hard to score runs in Tests. ODIs form a packaged version of this display of skill as the batsmen make the bigger impression. Twenty20 absolutely destroys the bowlers, turning the into a necropolis for anyone who has the guts to fancy their arm.
I’d like to see the seniors focus on Tests and make graceful exits from limited overs cricket, so that younger blood can take it up. The Twenty20 win was no fluke, is is testimony to the capability of India’s youth, even in a shorter form of cricket where luck plays a bigger role than in ODIs. As the yellow-pyjama dominance doesn’t look like deteriorating, India (and the rest of the world) need to show more aggression and fire on the field to counter-attack. It calls for youth, and perhaps Indian cricket is finally asking for the biggies to leave gaps that people can fill.
A tooth falling out on its own terms goes unnoticed. Pulling it out, however, is both hard and painful.
