A faithful perspective..
No innuendo. No name calling.
Rohit Brijnath’s piece on the spot-fixing saga in this morning’s Straits Times.
A boy has Sachin Tendulkar embossed on his underwear. A salesman peers over a crowd for a glimpse of cricket on a TV in a shop window. An entrepreneur sends his chauffeur to a darkened stadium to pick up discarded ticket stubs of a great match. Walk a lane in Pakistan, a street in India, an alley in Sri Lanka, and if cricket is on, you can see it. Faith.
Faith is the thread that stitches admirer to athlete. Faith, wrote my friend Sambit Bal in Cricinfo is “the most important aspect of this relationship”.
The fan can be imperfect himself, his adulation can be ugly, his manner parochial, but he believes deeply in his team. He dislikes losing, he cribs, but he comes back, he has hope in better days. Because faith is a handshake, it is a deal, it is cricketer saying “come cheer”, it is fan saying “of course, just give your best”.
In the subcontinent, this handshake is like a lifeline, for the game transcends entertainment, it translates into escape, into hope, into a distraction from the hard lives. The game on is a life turned off. To cheat then, which some Pakistani players have been accused of, does something cruel, it tears at the fabric of this faith.
Cheating isn’t new because humankind isn’t. Tour de France cyclists were once rumoured to leap on trains en route and boxers soaked their hands in plaster of Paris.
There is no moral grading with cheating either. The football diver, the spying manager, they all corrupt their sport and lower its credibility. Some of it is so pervasive that we even let it go with a lazy shrug: Such is life! Everyone does it! As fans, perhaps we have become too forgiving.
But when an athlete sells himself and thus his team, he doesn’t just undermine the idea of contest, he reveals himself as the worst thing: hero as fake. Talent may not work on a particular day, but it can’t be up for the highest bidder.
The fan can’t reconcile himself to it, for as a former state cricketer from India says: “There is something of me in my team.” Maybe there is no more disbelief, not like the kid fan plaintively asking baseballer Joe Jackson, who was banned after the 1919 World Series fix: “Say it ain’t so, Joe?” Maybe there is only despair now.
The problem with faith disappearing is that it is replaced with cynicism and we know this from the apathy that followed cycling for a while. Now the Pakistani fan must wonder, cricket again wonders: Which other acts and matches were counterfeit?
Cricket’s spot-fixing can be so minor – pre-deciding which ball to bowl a no-ball on – and may not even affect the result, yet it taints the game. Because we might look at ever easy catch dropped, every absurd run-out – all natural occurrences of everyday sport – and shadow them with suspicion. It is like wondering if an awry Steven Gerrard backpass was fixed. It’s why an Indian cricketer tells me he is “sickened” for trust has eroded.
Other sports can absorb a level of chicanery by virtue of their breadth. If a lesser tennis player fixes, we are reassured by the chivalry of the many great ones. If a second-division Bundesliga player fixes, we are comforted that Manchester United and their elite peers are cleaner.
But cricket is a relatively miniscule game, not in fans, but in teams, for only nine nations play test cricket. To ban one team is to amputate a sizeable part of the game, to have one corrupt team causes seismic activity across the entire sport.
Restoring faith requires the help of players, captains but mainly cricket’s clumsy administration. Cricket has a fresh fascination with money, the game – in some nations – is rich and it has wonderfully given young men strong livelihoods. But it is also fraught with dangers.
Money can turn into obsession, for those who have it and for those – like Pakistani cricketers who were left out the lucrative Indian Premier League – who don’t. Money can bring a charmless crew of hangers-on, shady agents, greedy coteries, all grasping at the vulnerable young player.
This seductive universe requires wise navigation but there remains an appalling failure of guidance. Mohammad Amir, the Pakistani allegedly involved in the current fix, arrives from a small town of Gujjar Khan. You wonder: did anyone tell this 18-year-old of fixers, agents, information seekers? Has he been taught to invest his earnings? Has he a cricket counsellor for inevitable hard times?
Cricket’s true beauty in the subcontinent is that it is more democratic – anyone can play for Pakistan or India – not just city boys. But opportunity is not enough without direction.
We owe that to these young men, to the game, to the fans. Else an ineffably sad mail will arrive, as this one did from the fine Pakistani cricket writer Osman Samiuddin yesterday. As he wrote to me: “I was telling someone the other day that my reaction has been like that of someone who has seen someone pass away.”
For him, alas, faith has long gone.
To Boldly Go Where No Man Has Gone Before …
It started on Tuesday and carried on till Thursday. It was one of the great moments of Sport.
John Isner, Nicholas Mahut and History
The match generated a huge amount of interest as it indeed should. Across all media – newsprint, television, blogs, facebook, twitter and the coffee machine chatterbox – it remained a central discussion piece. This piece by Rohit Brijnath I thought best did justice to the match. (From the Straits Times, Singapore)
IN ANCIENT and grimmer times, boxing had no roped rings, no gloves, no set rounds. Punches flew till a man fell and could not rise. It is not the sort of contest one expects on Wimbledon’s aristocratic lawns, yet John Isner and Nicolas Mahut produced something similar in a spectacular tennis epic that spanned three days and passed 11 hours before Isner prevailed. It was sport pared down to its raw, unadulterated basics. Sport that was all breathtaking, bloody-minded commitment. It was last man standing stuff that flirted with the fictional.
Their story began on Tuesday, when the day ended with 28-year-old Mahut, the Frenchman, tied with 25-year-old Isner, the American, 4-6, 6-3, 7-6 (9-7), 6-7 (3-7). On Wednesday, they played just one single unfinished fifth set, 59-59, over seven hours and six minutes. That set alone was longer than the previous longest tennis match of 6 hours 33 minutes.
Last night at Wimbledon, combat continued, and Isner-Mahut remained joined at the hip, tennis’ inseparable Siamese twins locked in combat till the American finally won 70-68 in the fifth set.The fifth set defeats the imagination for no analogy fits. Even 60-59 in a penalty shoot-out won’t work. This was not 22 men taking a few kicks, but two men serving, sliding, lunging. Two men, scrapping for longer than six football matches. Two men, unbending. “It was madness,” Mahesh Bhupathi, the Indian doubles star, told The Straits Times. “It was ridiculous. I saw the match. Pretty much everyone in the locker room was watching.”
They watched, entertained and awed, because this was tennis’ perfect storm and we are naturally drawn to the outlandish, seduced by the possibility that what is before us will never be repeated. Said Roger Federer: “I have almost no words any more watching this. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen and could imagine.”
Sport rests on the assumption that a human will eventually err enough for a rival to take advantage, or an inspired shot will tilt a match or luck will intercede. But this is freakish. It is inexplicable that it took three days to separate them, even if you factor in their big serving which made them hard to break. When they finished, Isner had 112 aces, Mahut 103.
It was beautiful because it was sport devoid of gimmick or controversy. There was no distracting talk of equipment, pay cheques, coaches. Distilled to its essence, this was simply about will. Every person has quit in them. It is part of our measure as athletes, amateur or professional. At the 10th km, one man halts; at the 14th, another stops.
Humans push till they collide with what seems their breaking point. The knees weep, lungs cry. Courage is defeated by weariness and a contest does not seem worth it any more. We give in. Psychologically, we leave boxing’s white towel of surrender on the green grass.
But not Isner, not Mahut. They ate, drank, grimaced, taped fingers, fell to their knees. But they would not quit.
It was beautiful, too, for they played for nothing really. It was not a final, but a first round. Not on centre court but on court no. 18. No million dollars at stake, but $38,700 to the man who got through. No country depended on them nor a teammate.
The comparative irrelevance of the match makes their performances stirring. For they were playing for personal pride. Just doing their day job. Professionals giving everything. Trying to earn ranking points. Trying to bend their bodies into one more serve. Just one more.
They had no boxing trainer to wipe the face. No football masseur and coach to rub legs and give advice at half-time. It was just two men jousting on a court. Nothing else. It is why Wimbledon’s refusal to have a fifth-set tie-breaker is right. To win, sometimes you must go to the very extremities of the self.
On Wednesday night, the match unfinished, Frenchman Mahut, who single-handedly has shamed his football team with his desire, said of Isner: “He’s just a champ.” No, they both are, irrespective of result. Because what they did out there on court no. 18 wasn’t just tennis. It was what sport desperately needs in these hair-jelled, overpaid, pretentious times. An unadorned show of human spirit.
The Man in the background – and why we need him in focus …
The following piece – penned by Rohit Brijnath – appeared this morning in Tabla.
The question it asks is one that we should ask in the good times. If this is the wind beneath the team’s wings, what can we learn from it. Too often, we’ll wait for the bad spell before casting blame.
Also, is this all Gary K’s doing ? Or are the BCCI gag orders responsible. Does it matter, either way.
Read on.
Gary Kirsten is apparently the coach of the Indian cricket team. This is sometimes hard to tell. Certainly he is hardly to be seen in the newspapers, a fellow more low profile than a sulking mole. This is not altogether unpleasant for the last fellow in the job had yet to meet a microphone he didn’t like. Greg Chappell talked too much, Kirsten seems to talk not at all.It might be argued that Kirsten’s job is not to talk anyway but to teach. Certainly John Wright could be a recluse, but in front of Kirsten he resembles a campaigning politician. Kirsten has learnt from Chappell’s error, that the spotlight belongs to the player not the coach, but this low-profile act, probably not of his making entirely, has gone too far.
Since the team is winning we presume Kirsten is having a fine effect. We must presume because there has been no major profile worth remembering, containing Kirsten’s thoughts, in an Indian paper (though, unusually, there was one in an English paper last year). Certainly the team is a choir singing his praises, but otherwise he’s as familiar to us as a blind date.
How does he cajole Sehwag and cool down Bhajji? What ideas are propelling this team? What areas does the team need to sandpaper? How do they balance the three teams? Questions abound. One of India’s finest commentators, says simply: “I don’t know anything about what he thinks.”
Is this bad? Well, it’s not a national crisis, not reason for chest-beating or office-burning, but let’s say this much. What Kirsten is doing, Indians especially deserve to know. Fans have the right to be part of this journey, they invest in their team, they might want to understand the mechanics of their team’s tilt at greatness, might like to know the man running their team. It’s not their right to know everything, but enough.
If Kirsten prefers not to speak, it’s a shame (though this is unlikely since he was blogging till told to stop). More likely, Kirsten is not being allowed to speak by the BCCI and that’s silly. A gag, if it exists, is an overreaction to Chappell and fails to recognise the obvious truth that no two men are the same. It is also immature. As if to say, we can trust a man to guide India’s precious team, but we can’t trust him not to be indiscreet.
Coaches can be engaging customers, whose creative enthusiasm allows us to keep looking at cricket differently. The late Bob Woolmer was full of original thought; the professorial John Buchanan is never shy of speaking. Sport needs ideas in the public domain, it makes for more interesting discourse.
Undoubtedly, the predatory part of India’s media pointlessly spins controversy from even a banal quote, and some wariness is warranted. But Wright gave strong, sensible interviews occasionally, one particularly famous one to Sambit Bal of Cricinfo in 2002, giving us an insight into his self and his mission.
Kirsten should tell the board he is smart enough to pick his words and his journalists. He should reveal parts of himself, tell us what he thinks about Indian cricket, let people look into his lined face and make up their minds, instead of emailing answers to India Today’s Sharda Ugra, whose intelligent enquiring questions were recently met by stilted, bland answers.
The fine, intelligent coach at work with this team, it would be nice to know him a little. As requests go, it hardly sounds unreasonable.
Thoughts welcome.
The King of bad times
A self proclaimed high brow news channel’s top presenter was interviewing Mr. Dr. Vijay Mallya on his bid for Kevin Pietersen at the 2nd edition of the IPL auction. The first statement which was made was something to the tune of ‘Everyone always knew you would get KP into your side Dr. Mallya’ with unmasked admiration in the presenter’s tone. Dr. Mallya smilled laconically (as laconic as on can get under that beard) at the statement, his ego suitably massaged and I switched away from the channel.
It was the same Dr. Mallya who has been in news recently over pledging of a decent chunk of his shares in the UB group. The Kingfisher Airline is on the verge of being grounded as the state run oil marketing companies are threatening to pull the plug on their ATF supplies. One may still argue that the KP buy need not be looked at in tandem with his other business ventures. That it is in the Royal Challengers’ interest. With the captain (?) Rahul Dravid already under pressure for a place in the team and Mallya hinting at KP being considered for captaincy (a man who lost 5-0 in India and was fired by his selectors), there is going to be tremendous turmoil in the team in the near future.
One suspects though, that it was ‘brand KP’ that attracted Mallya with his super sized playboy image. He found his own mirror image in KP and he knew that he had to buy KP, come what may. He had already got the flambouyant Uthappa transferred from Mumbai in exchange for Zaheer Khan. KP would make the change from a supposedly dour, boring team (RD, Kallis, Chanderpaul, Jaffer) into an exciting one, complete.
If one looks back at the auction, this open desire of Dr. Mallya to have KP in his team cost him USD 200K more. Dr. Mallya started off the bid at 1.35MM.. one could clearly see that no other team had any real interest in KP, especially as Freddie had gone for USD 1.55MM earlier. Then Rajasthan Royals put in a bid at USD 1.45MM. Now it was an open secret in the auction room that the RR bid was just to make Dr. Mallya pay higher. And as a smart businessman all one had to do was not to hike the RR bid. The RR bid was a bluff which cried out to be called. Imagine what problems the RRs would face if KP went to their team. Warne has already talked about getting an increment on the paltry sum that he was bought for last year. KP getting 4-5 times his fees would have been interesting. Add to this volatile mixture, Graeme Smith and you would have a potential money spinning reality show on your hands.
Lalit Modi has famously announced that IPL is free from the dreaded ‘R’ word. The IPL II results haven’t been convincing enough. The same day that KP was bought at the astronomical sum, Kingfisher Airlines announced a cut in its pilots salary by Rs. 80k per month. Welcome to the bad times!!!
Posted by Rahul
Fed down of Rafa
The sun sets in the east?
Roger Federer was left wondering where will the No 14 come from as he was beaten yet again by his nemesis Rafael Nadal at the Australian Open in 5 thrilling sets. The quality of tennis was outstanding at times but the result crushingly familiar for Federer. Nadal may actually claim to be a better all court player than Federer, having won 3 slams on different surfaces. Even Federer hasn’t managed that and barring injuries to Nadal, the French Open trophy looks like a distant dream.
Andy Roddick had famously commented ‘ I need to win once in a while to call it a rivalry’, when questioned about his tennis rivalry with Federer. Federer may not say it but coming out second best to Rafa 5 times in a row gives the same deja vu feeling. The last time Federer won against Nadal was in November 2007. And Nadal is improving consistently where Federer seems to be caught in a rut. The vintage Federer has gone missing some where and though we see some glimpses of his mojo, it doesn’t seem like the same anymore.
Maybe it’s all in the mind for Federer when playing against Nadal is concerned. The only way to equal and then surpass Sampras’s record is hope. The hope that Nadal is beaten by some one else. The hope that Nadal gets injured. Or maybe to get back that mojo, the motivation to improve. Nadal’s irresistible march to Tennis greatness continues. Time will tell if Federer managed to slow the march down.
Posted by Rahul
Shock and Awe
It was a good day, it was a bad day. It was January 7, 2009. Though it had started off as an ordinary day with little to indicate the stunning events that were to follow. It was a day of mortals turning super men, it was a day of falling angels and all categories of men in between the two extremes. It was a day to remember, it was a day to forget. It was a day of some terrible decision making and some terrible decision makers. It was a day of painful truths; some physical; some ethical. It was a day for making statements. Some forceful, some forced.
The moment Dale Steyn was dismissed and the Australians began celebrating their victory, there emerged from the shadows of the SCG stands, a man with a mission. A man who refused to lose. Graeme Smith might have had a broken finger and a sore elbow but he also possessed a stout heart. He walked out in the middle to partner Ntini, who himself had shown admirable gumption in sticking around. Smith’s heroic gesture was a captain’s message to his team. The captain never abandoned his ship. He went down with it. It was a message to the opponents. South Africa was not willing to give an inch even in a dead rubber. They would scrap all the way down. They would use all their reserves and more.
In the same match, the opposite number had acted the dual role of the plaintiff and the judge, a throwback to the good old Sydney 2008 days. Some crucial decisions went against the South Africans and the final match result also was painfully similar to 2008. But in Sydney it was not surprisingly the opposition captains who walked away with all the glory. Kumble for his steely but calm reaction in 2008 and Smith for his show of defiance in 2009.
Kevin Pietersen resigned from the England captaincy (or was he asked to go?) following his not so private tiff with Peter Moores. A man who had emerged as a statesman for his efforts to make his team tour India after the tragic events in Mumbai, was suddenly finding himself standing alone sans the team. What had happened in a month to alienate himself from the team members who were solidly behind his decision to tour India? One should know of the reasons in a few months in his next biography.
The shock though was reserved for another statement.
http://www.financialexpress.com/news/satyam-fraud-full-text-of-rajus-letter-to-board/407799/
The leader of one of the largest software companies in the country, one which had received the Golden Peacock award (for excellence in corporate governance) a few months back, was admitting to commiting a massive fraud on an ongoing basis for many quarters. A company that was started, built and nurtured by him was being taken down by the same man. A company of 53,000+ employees was left rudderless.
On January7th 2009, a captain, in physical pain, in batting for his 10 team mates ended up making a nation proud. On January 7th 2009, a captain, a leader of 53,000 people, pulled down a proud nation by a couple of notches. It was a good day, it was a bad day.
Posted by Rahul
Birthday wishes on a post card
A normal middle class background, comprising of a strict father, a doting mother and a brother and a sister, was an unimaginable breeding ground for a chess prodigy in that era of Russian champions manufactured by the dozens in special chess schools. His was a happy, if unexceptional childhood. He sometimes had to skip playing chess for months if his academic performance was not up to the mark. There was no special treatment meted out to him at home and he was never made to feel ‘special’ or ‘better’ than anybody else by word or deed. It wasn’t that his parents were just passive spectators in his march towards glory. His father sponsored his Junior World Championship at Manila and Anand was supported wholeheartedly by them through his career. But it was just ingrained in him that success was not something to be advertised by shouting over the rooftops and failure was to be accepted as a part and parcel of life. Chess was not a ‘be all and end all’ of his life. He went and studied Business Economics after his high school because he was afraid that he was becoming a ‘chess nut’. He loves listening to music, especially U2, loves Monty Python and Hitchcock movies and loves reading. His upbringing has been largely responsible for his being the person whom we know today. The genial genius!
Anand’s marriage to Aruna in 1996 gave him another source of strength. Aruna handles his appointments, schedules his interviews, looks after his travel arrangements and playing itinerary and, most importantly, is just ‘there for him’.
Maybe it was the background that made a lot of people (especially the Russians) question his killer instinct. He himself has admitted that he doesn’t like conflict and as a personality most comfortable in peaceful surroundings. But his genius remained unquestioned at any point in his career. His 5 chess Oscars stand testimony to this fact. It seems fitting for a person who loves travelling and has visited 49 countries at the last count, to win the Oscar bronze statuette titled ‘The Fascinated Wanderer’.
The speed of his game has always given him an advantage over his opponents and has brought him success in all forms of Chess; classical, rapid and blitz. He is the first World Rapid Chess Champion, the first to win the World Blitz Chess championship and now the World Champion. What he has achieved can be compared to a cricket team being the champion in all three formats of the game and more. MSD and team, who are supposed to present Anand with a diamond ring in a ceremony organised by the Indian Chess Federation, should feel privileged to do so.
The story behind the preparation for the match against Kramnik is fascinating and intriguing at the same time. In an interview given just before the match Anand had come up with some stunning observations and a brief insight into his strategy. The 12 game match was not a straightforward ‘go their and play your best game’ situation. Both Anand and Kramnik had played against each other over the past 15 years and both knew each other’s game pretty well. The player who could neutralise the other’s strengths and who was well prepared for a similar strike from the other side would be better off in their exchanges.
For starters, Anand had been studying Kramnik since the end of April 2008. If shown a position from a Kramnik game played in the past 20 years(which number in the thousands), Anand was confident of identifying atleast 90% of the games. He knew that Kramnik knew this as well and that Kramnik would try to surprise him by playing a bit differently. On the other hand Kramnik would be doing the same and Anand had to find an answer to it. Both were trying new paths with the computers and their seconds by which they could attack differently, defend the opponent’s strengths and be ready for a surprise.
There were rumours before the match that Magnus Carlsen, the new star on the horizon, was acting as Anand’s second for the match. When quizzed about it, Anand declined to answer it, saying it was a part of the pre-match psychological games and it was for Kramnik to figure out if this were the case. It turned out finally that Carlsen was not his second.
Anand knew that Chess is as much about making one’s moves right as about being emotionless on one’s exterior. To show any emotion in a long drawn match was giving a glimpse into one’s thinking to the opponent. He declared that he didn’t look much at his opponents’ face as most top players, sans Kasparov, didn’t show their emotions openly while playing. He had an answer to it. He actually would concentrate on the opponent’s breathing!!! The speed of breathing was a pointer for Anand on his opponent’s state of nerves. Anand talked more about emotions, gestures and other softer aspects of the game before the World Championships. Maybe this was a strategy in itself.
Anand had finished last in the Master’s tournament at Bilbao, just a month before the World Championship. Whether this was done in order to prevent Kramnik from guessing the direction in which Anand was likely to approach the match is an open question.
Here is what Gary Kasparov had to say about the actual Match: “It was a very well-played match by Vishy. Except for the loss of concentration in the tenth game he played consistently and managed to enforce his style. His choice to open with 1.d4 was excellent. He reached playable positions with life in them, so he could make Kramnik work at the board. Anand outprepared Kramnik completely. In this way it reminded me of my match with Kramnik in London 2000. Like I was then, Kramnik may have been very well prepared for this match, but we never saw it. I didn’t expect the Berlin and ended up fighting on Kramnik’s preferred terrain.”
Anand was born on 11th December and this is our ode to the World Champion.
Anand’s mother when asked about which game was her favourite had the following reply: “I like all his games. I always think he is going to be the winner!
Like all mothers feel their children are the best in the world, I also feel the same for my son.”
In Mrs. Susheela Vishwanathan’s case one can’t argue.
Posted by Rahul
Thank you. Honestly …
Kumble & Team India
Now that one thinks about it, it couldn’t really have been any other way.
The country, as was often the case with him, cribbing and questioning in the background. The batters scoring 600. And the team failing to win from that position. But Anil Kumble battling on till his body wouldnt do his mind’s willing anymore. One hand hurt going for a catch that would ordinarily have been well left by most in the team. That hand then administered 11 stitches under general anaesthesia. Kumble asking if the stitches could be administered under local anaesthesia ( I need to bowl tomorrow) and being told that it was a medical decision and not a cricketing one. Then coming out to bowl the next day and taking three wickets including a caught and bowled. All this while, as we now know , having decided that the next day would be his last in Tests. Waiting then till the game was safe before informing all that this was it. That every last ounce of effort and grit had been squeezed out by him. He couldn’t take it anymore and didn’t want to let the team down. That yes, there was unfinished business and he wished he was part of it – and he would be there in Nagpur – but not in the team shirt but still with the team spirit.
It really couldn’t have been any other way.
Sportsmen are like that. They crave performance. And the win. What else is there, after all is said and done. But with this man, somehow always plagued with questions, there has always been more.
India played Australia earlier this year under his captaincy and we remember Sydney but forget Perth way too easily. What does it take to come back from that ? What kind of leader is it that so inspires his men in a foreign land that after 16 wins, its the winning captain who’s inviting criticism ? What kind of man so lives the spirit that when he says that only one team was playing by it , it doesn’t evoke Jardinesque memories? Controversy, dubious umpiring , relentless media pressure, errant behaviour, 0-2 down in the series heading to the favourite turf of the world’s no 1 team. And we won.
And yet we thanklessly questioned.
Earlier this series, in Bengaluru, Ricky Ponting called it right and on a no-help pitch , he bowled 40 nagging overs in the first innings to make the Aussie juggernaut seem like a caterpillar crawl. Then the shoulder acted up and he couldnt bowl for a good part of the second. And we told-you-so-ed. And then, with a billion people in the know, he came out to bowl again and as the cameras tried their darndest to help us, we couldn’t catch a grimace. But that we ignored and we looked for turn where no one got any. And we thanklesssly questioned.
But now, he’s gone. And because he wasn’t the kind that marketing gurus would like to project in their infinite wisdom , we won’t see him in too many advertisments , like we haven’t in his career. But he will remain a model.
Many years ago, he did an ad campaign. Here are the details from an India Today story which captured the essence of the man after his 10 for …
Tears stream down Vasanth Raghuvir’s face when she remembers the son she had — and lost. Velan, 19, died on May 21, 1998, his body unequal to the battle his mind waged against his corroding muscles, the degenerative muscular dystrophy. But Raghuvir’s tears fall not just from her grief; they’re her tribute to a little-known love Kumble offered Velan with the same dedication that he brings to his bowling.
Raghuvir does not try to understand the bond Anil Kumble shared with her dying son. “All I know is that he made a tremendous impact on Velan during the last year of his life,” says Raghuvir. For, that year Kumble was Velan’s life support, visiting him frequently, talking to him or when he couldn’t speak, simply being with him. She recalls a day in December 1997 when her son’s lungs collapsed, his body stricken with pneumonia. Kumble called that day, bound for Sharjah. “We told him Velan was critical and could not talk to him, but Anil insisted we just put the phone close to Velan’s ears and he would talk to Velan,” says Raghuvir. “My son was battling for his life and here was a man who until a few months ago was a complete stranger to all of us infusing him with life, with determination to fight back.” She recounts Kumble’s final visit to her son in his critical state. “It was,” says Raghuvir, “probably the happiest and greatest year in the life of my son.”
Velan, a first-class 2nd year biochemistry student in Chennai, was wheelchair-bound since he was 10 years old, when his wasting muscles took away the use of his legs. One day in May 1997, Raghuvir got talking to Rahul Dravid whom she met at a shop. She explained how she could not take her son to a cricket match because no stadium in India had a ramp, how it was humiliating for him to be carried. Dravid promised to introduce him to Kumble. On the appointed day, the spinner was there — 15 minutes early. “He need not have paid so much attention, but he was hovering around Velan, just being by his side.” Before leaving he fished out a giant autographed poster for Velan. “I can never express the joy I saw on my son’s face at that moment.” It was the start of an uncommon relationship. As it blossomed, Velan one day asked Kumble if he would appear in a campaign to build ramps for buildings. There was no hesitation, just an immediate yes. Kumble flew to Chennai and did a seven-hour shoot, all gratis. “The standing ovation he got for his 10 wickets is not enough, he should be given one every time he walks into a room,” says Raghuvir. “Just for his golden heart.”
Today, he says that in the future he plans to start an academy for budding cricketers. The future seems bright already.
Thank you, Jumbo.
Is Everybody In ? The Ceremony Is About To Begin …
While most in the financial world (is there any other kind ?) have been busy – (these past few weeks there’s been this image in my head of finance whizkids driving this snazzy car, but the rearview mirror keeps getting bigger and bigger till its bigger than the windscreen, and they’re frantically rummaging through the glove compartment looking for a map) – the sporting world has, thankfully, gone on regardless.
Not that its an excuse for being absent from the blog and if an India v Australia series doesnt get me going , virtually nothing will. Who knows, it might even be therapeutic …
So, efforts on to get back to blogging. And cover this series and matters related.
Rahul’s already underscored Dada’s farewell that will run through the series, but as the Steve Waugh farewell tour showed, emotional undercurrents aside, the cricket between these sides always scores.
Highlighting this, is a typically wonderful prelude to the Tests penned by Rohit Brijnath. It followed a beautifully written Elegy for the long player, the romanticism of which seemed to awaken the Twenty20 generation to the subtleties of Tests and related sportswriting.
The following piece was carried yesterday in the Straits Times, here in Singapore.
THE All Blacks in New Zealand. Rafael Nadal on clay. Chelsea at home. Michael Phelps in any water. Every sport has its ultimate challenge. In cricket, subcontinental patriots will insist there is possibly only one thing harder than beating India in India, and that’s beating Australia anywhere. And so when Ricky Ponting’s posse come to Anil Kumble’s turf, a confrontation between gum-chewing mates and white-trousered gods, we’re about as close as we can get to cricketing nirvana.
India versus Australia, which begins again on Thursday, is a fresh tradition in an antique game, it’s a duel of contrasting philosophies, it’s a contest of shared respect and constant misunderstandings. It is, if you take some artistic licence, a bit like Ali-Frazier, it’s skilful, edgy, passionate, brutal.
It’s had walkouts threatened and racism charges hurled, it’s had spats and sledging, and it’s had some of the most incendiary cricket we’ve seen this decade.
Of the 15 Tests played since 2001, six have been won by Australia and five by India. And even the draws have not been dreary. Why these sweaty, cricketing mini-series aren’t played out over five Tests (like Australia-England, or now England-South Africa) is just another bemusing decision by cricket’s unsure officialdom.
The Indians run world cricket; the Australians own world cricket. Indians have a fine affection for a broken-Hindi-speaking Brett Lee, and Australian crowds rise wherever Sachin Tendulkar goes. The visitors, more aware of and open to India, have learnt there is more to Indian curries than a vindaloo; the hosts, less bashful after these exchanges, have learnt that toughness and professionalism are at the core of Australia’s consistency. For two nations, geographically distant and culturally disparate, cricket has been teacher, ambassador, meeting point, battleground.
It is a series that has re-energised cricket and helped nations connect. But like all young relationships, it is an imperfect and often tempestuous one. When Indian observers whine about how well a local Indian association has treated the Australians with regard to facilities, they are incredibly suggesting that a hospitable nation is somehow being too hospitable. When Australian journalists write that Tendulkar’s breaking of the most-Test-runs record would relegate the capture of Osama bin Laden to page three, it is a flippant lack of understanding of how deeply wounded India is by terrorism. Cricket, perhaps, can teach only so much.
This is the fifth India-Australia Test series already this decade and worse overkill is found only in a Schwarzenegger movie. Duels need time to breathe, time for victory to seep in, defeat to be digested, revenge to be plotted, teams to learn new tricks. That said, so bereft is cricket of the competitive, high-class contest that no one is complaining too much. There is talk that Australian cricket’s halo has lost its shine, their aura punctured, their crown askew, but it is all cheap blather. The only proof in sport is victory.
India have to win this series to give substance to the word “rivalry”. The boys in blue grabbed the Twenty20 World Cup and outplayed Australia, in Australia, in their last one-day encounter, but in the Test arena total triumph has been elusive. India’s team have learnt to roll up their stylish sleeves and compete with a compelling fierceness, but they have won only one Test series of the past four against Australia, and none of the last three. Victory seems for some only a matter of time, but Australia’s resilience is underestimated by only the ignorant.
India have to win else their treasured reputation at home will be further eroded, and losing will help dissolve one of the great mythologies of cricket. India have to win because cricket can do with some evenness. The game’s one-sidedness is not the fault of the incomparable Australians, but the sloth of their competitors. If indeed Australia are not as potent these days, yet still win, it says even less about their rivals.
India have to win because it is in cricket’s wider interests. At the game’s new headquarters, the cult of Twenty20 is dominant, and this exciting, energetic but amputated sport (about as much a test of cricket as doubles is of tennis) is threatening to overshadow the traditional game. Test cricket is a harder sell to the young Indian, for it is a longer, sweatier process to greatness, it offers none of the immediate fame and instant riches of Twenty20.
It is why Kumble and his gang must play brilliant salesmen, must produce performances of bravery and imagination, must construct a seductive advertisement for their form of the game. If the Test game has to be saved, the great battle for it must be fought on Indian soil.
Finally, India have to win else it could mean the cricketing death of a band of the game’s grandest heroes. The end of Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid, Kumble, Sourav Ganguly, V.V.S. Laxman is imminent anyway, but victory will extend their lives a few months, another year. The Australians will not care. Like all majestic teams, they make a living writing epitaphs.
The Big Bong
Do unto others as they
have done to you
But what the hell is this
world coming to?
Blow the universe into nothingness
Nuclear warfare shall lay us to rest
Fight fire with fire
Ending is near
Fight fire with fire
Bursting with fear…………
Metallica
Dedicated to the man who made one proud just for the fact that the Australians hated him. He, who showed his six packs much before his team owner did. He, who was born a prince, became a king and ended a commoner. He, who always had something prickly to say to the opponent. He, who always had statistics to throw at his critics (many times factually incorrect). He, who was Adam in the gardens of Eden. He, who was the first cricketing representative of a changing, confident, abrasive India. He, who jogged a single when there were three for the taking. He, who could pierce the off side with the precision of a swiss watch. He, who was a demigod in his state, an enigma to many others. He, who kept on rising like a phoenix. He, who taught us how to fight. He, whose autobiography, will be one of the most eagerly awaited in India. He, who, even in his departure will garner attention, as the captain/ selectors can’t drop him for the next 4 tests against Australia. Master stroke from a master striker.
Au Revoir Dada!!
Posted by Rahul
For whom the rings toll
Twenty minutes into the most high profile match of the current EPL season, the irritating ring tone on my phone, which has created a mini storm in marital bliss, informs me of an incoming message of supreme importance. The next 90 odd minutes are going to one of the toughest tests of my married life over the continuous ringing of the SMS alert.
The SMS waxes eloquent on the end of the 84 match unbeaten streak at home for Chelsea. Man United have scored a goal and the message sender is going gung ho over it. A calm-down request from self, pointing that the match has another 70 minutes left falls on deaf ears.
Next message is from this side of the fence blasting Joe Cole for blasting the ball over the goal. A lot many messages are exchanged on the favorable treatment meted out to MU by various referees and comparisons with the Australian cricket team are used in abundance.
The other side is under the impression that the match is being watched at a watering hole and on the motto of ‘chance pe dance’, goes on to hail Scholes as the ‘best midfielder in the world’. Seriously, this is one of the better jokes I have heard in quite some time and the appreciation is instantly conveyed.
By the end of the first half, the other side is going ballistic on all the first win at Stamford Bridge since almost 4.5 years. The 2nd half is as exciting as it can get with one team in complete control. Anelka and Joe Cole keep on missing the target with boring frequency. I get delirious messages when Ronaldo is introduced. “God has arrived” is the gist of most of them. ‘God’ has an immediate impact on the game by falling at the slightest touch. A few messages discuss the ‘ground beneath his feet’.
The rescue act is done by Kalou. 1-1. Suddenly the victory dance has stopped and tension mounts. After 90 minutes of intense football the match is drawn. The SMSs continue for another half an hour post the match. The final SMS from the other side says ’1 point was what we came to Stamford Bridge for and so we go away happy’.
The wife can’t take it anymore and snatches the instrument and changes the SMS alert tone. “Were these exchanges about the MU-Chelsea match?” she queries. “Yes” comes a sheepish reply.
“But why were you so worked up? you support Arsenal don’t you?”
Posted by Rahul
Its not all about money, honey!!!
Being constantly bombarded by the daily headlines screaming multi million dollar deals for buying out football clubs, exorbitant transfer fees for football players funded by petro dollars, and the ever rising prize money (which seems to be giving a fight to the rate of inflation in Zimbabwe) for various professional sporting events, one had started to question the very existence of sport being played for enjoyment. It was becoming just another entertainment industry like Hollywood, pop, porn or gambling. All one had to do was find a bunch of talented players across the globe, locate top coach, throw obscene money at them and make a winning team. Chelsea was a prime example, which didn’t live up to the standards that its owner set. Manchester City joined the club (pun intended) last week by signing Robinho. One is taking football only as an example to put one’s point across. This phenomenon is being replicated in many other sporting arenas as well (more in team sports one would add).
Formula One hasn’t been an exception in the recent past with the budgets of the top 2-3 teams putting a few emerging countries in the shadows. The ‘also rans’ were there to make the numbers, with little money to invest in technology or hire drivers with proven talent. The minnows had to get the engines from the Big Boyz and give chances to untested talent. Winning a Formula One race wasn’t within the realms of reality. Picking up the crumbs left for the 6+ places in a race was the best they could hope for.
There was an air of expectancy at Monza on the 14th of September 2008, when a laggard team’s driver was going to start at the pole position on the grid. The pole was attributed chiefly to the rains during the qualifying sessions and nobody really expected a rookie with an average car to hold on to the lead for too long. It was a flash in the pan, more like the lighting in the storm clouds that hit Monza on the Saturday qualifying sessions. Sebastian Vettel proved everyone wrong by a mile and more. Controlling the race from the beginning, the 21 year old drove a dream race, winning it comfortably in the end. It reaffirmed one’s faith in the uncertainties of sport where by every passing day; the odds on the favourites have been shortening. It encouraged the willingness to dream, the willingness to believe that impossible is nothing and that even in this Orwellian world of ‘some people being more equal’, fairy tales do happen. Sebastian Vettel and Toro Rosso have given every F1 lover a reason to cheer, a reason to smile.
But one doesn’t want to stop where most fairy tales end. What happened to David after he slayed Goliath? Did he become another Goliath? The philosophical problem here is that once David has slain Goliath, he doesn’t remain a David. He is not an underdog any more. In Vettel’s case, we may hear in a few days that he will be driving for a Ferrari or a McLaren. One tends to read these stories of small football clubs unearthing talent and then being forced to sell the talent to a bigger club because ‘the player wants to play the champions league’. One can’t argue against the individual player’s right to define his career goals and priorities. And the romantic idea of ‘sports for sports’ sake’ can’t and won’t stop the commercialisation of sport. Gravity pulls everything down and money is the gravity for today’s sports.
Maybe it’s still all about money!!!! But maybe we can return to being cynics tomorrow…
The Fabulous One
Asked for the umpteenth time in is career on Sunday whether he felt any pressure when he went out to bat, this time in the first innings of the 2nd test match between India and Sri Lanka, after having lost the first one comprehensively, Virender Sehwag said for the umpteenth time that he didn’t. He couldn’t understand what the brouhaha was all about. He went there and played his natural game, enjoyed himself, smashed the bowlers all over the park, scored a century, smashed the bowlers all over the park, scored a double century, carried his bat, came back for another crack, scored a fifty. All this was done with minimum fuss and a jovial smile on his face. Even his opponents couldn’t begrudge him his achievement. Murali almost rushed to congratulate him when the 200th run was scored off his own bowling. Rarely has one seen a bowler do that. It was a wonderful gesture from one champion to another.
Back in December 2007, when Sehwag had been out of the Indian test team for more than 6 months, the selectors decided to exclude him from the list of 24 probables for the upcoming tour of Australia. For a man, who was the only triple century maker for his country, this was a cruel blow. In those 6 months, Sehwag had played a few ODI’s and was also a part of the T20 World cup winning team, but had failed to impress with consistently decent scores. To top it Sehwag had not performed in the domestic matches as well and his previous record in Australia was not enough for the selectors to augment a place in the list. Gautam Gambhir, who was initially included in the list, got a shoulder injury and Sehwag was surprisingly included in the final 14 declared for the Australian tour 2007-08. It is widely believed that captain Anil Kumble’s support tilted the balance in his favour. Kumble might have lost a few crucial tosses after that, but had called it right on one of the more important moments in Indian cricket.
Over the past few years, Sehwag had emerged as the man most feared in the Indian Test team. For a man who came to the team as a SRT clone and who had opening thrust on him due to a packed middle order, this was some achievement indeed. Tendulkar was almost revered, Dravid was hugely respected by their opponents. But when it came to pure unadulterated fear, Sehwag was your man. When an opposition captain was asking the Shakespearean “To declare, or not to declare” question, for setting the final target, the Sehwag factor added a few more runs to the equation. The sheer presence of the man contributed to the team in times of crisis. The significantly lower second innings average, notwithstanding. But he seems to have been coming to terms with that statistic as well after his brilliant 151 at Adelaide. The worrying factor for the opposition is that the man always seems to tide over his short comings. The ‘Bowl short pitch at his body’ mantra worked for some time, doesn’t work too well now, ‘bowl incutters to him’ was temporarily effective but may not be any more. He is not a complete player and one is not trying to attribute qualities to him out of thin air. Just the fact that by the time you get the ball in the right area he might have actually scored 50+ is a headache for most opponents.
Sehwag evokes a gamut of reactions in fans of Indian cricket. Amazement, wonder, awe, anger, frustration, disgust, one gets everything at the Sehwag show. There’s a very thin line between amazement and anger, wonder and frustration and awe and disgust. It’s as thin as the line between ‘carefree’ and ‘careless’. Ask Kevin Pietersen. But the fact that Sehwag averages above 50 reveals that more often than not, it’s his ‘carefree’ approach that wins the day.
‘‘The man hunched over his motorcycle can focus only on the present instant of his flight; he is caught in a fragment of time cut off from both the past and the future; he is wrenched from the continuity of time . . . in other words, he is in a state of ecstasy; in that state he is unaware of his age, his wife, his children, his worries, and so he has no fear, because the source of fear is in the future, and a person freed of the future has nothing to fear.” – Slowness by Milan Kundera
Virender Sehwag’s batting style seems to fit the abovementioned fragment from “slowness”. It seems like a daredevil approach to the game. He enjoys his game and the absence of any fear of the future leads to his pressure free game. One feels that some how it doesn’t capture the essence of Sehwag’s batting. It’s not all wham bam. Maybe it is more nuanced.
One is not sure if this description of a speed demon applies to the top F1 drivers of our time. The present instant of his flight is what the driver may be concentrating on, but at the same time he has to be perfectly attuned to his current position, the condition of his car, the track conditions, the weather, team instructions and the strategy that he is running on. It’s not the straight line speed that can be achieved by his car that matters as much as his ability to control that speed and brake at the last possible instant on curves and bends. The split tiny micro second more that he takes to brake than the other drivers may be the differentiator for the championship standing. What also matters is the reliability of the car, the speeds it can give on various segments of the track and the car’s braking ability. Being a relative greenhorn to F1, one may be excused for any unintentional errors. But there is little doubt that F1 is one of the ultimate tests of man – machine combination.
Maybe Sehwag’s essence can be described as this combination of man and machine. He has the talent, the hand eye co-ordination required to hit the ball better than most. Maybe he is the ‘natural born hitter’. But at the same time his mind is not in a tizzy at times of his exhilarating stroke play. He seems to be on the way to becoming a great race driver as well. He knows what the team strategy is, he knows what the conditions are, he knows whether he has to push himself or just sit back a bit, he knows that he is control of the immense speed which has been gifted to him. He is on the way to becoming a more consistent driver. All F1 drivers make mistakes, so will he. It’s the consistency that can propel him ahead.
But does the protagonist’s description as a cricketer who bats phenomenally and bowls occasionally does him service. One would tend to disagree. There’s more to him than his cricketing skills. Ishaant Sharma’s extra over to Ricky Ponting at Perth which decided the fate of the match is a point in case. Sehwag has shown a keen cricketing brain beneath his easy going exterior and the fact that he is the vice captain for the SL tour bodes well for the future of Indian cricket. Who will take over from Kumble when he hangs his boots is an interesting poser, though one would believe that MSD is going to be the front runner, his ‘rest’ notwithstanding. The selectors have given enough hints about MSD’s elevation to India test captaincy and they wouldn’t want to upset the apple cart unless MSD is finding it tough to be in the Indian test team at that time. But this is just speculation, and at present post Dinesh Karthik’s sterling contribution in SL, the bike loving (no reference to the Slowness piece intended) MSD would be the odds on favourite. But Sehwag is surely going to be considered for the job.
Virender Sehwag should do well to remember Shakespear’s quote from Twelfth Night – “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them”. Amen.
Posted by Rahul
Passing The Bat On …
The previous week seems to be the one to have witnessed the passing of quite a few batons. Men’s Tennis might have seen it on Sunday (a bit too early to call, admittedly), the Left parties passed the baton of the support to the Congress led UPA to the SP, and Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar passed one to Mahendra Singh Dhoni.
The news paper headlines screamed that Pepsi had decided not to continue with SRT as its brand ambassador. His endorsement contract which had expired was not renewed. A couple of reasons were assigned to it by unnamed sources. SRT’s endorsement fees were deemed to be “too steep” AND Pepsi wanted to focus on the younger generation, who they felt, would not be attracted by him. Pepsi had earlier dropped Rahul Dravid and Saurav Ganguly as its brand ambassadors as well. Informal estimates now put MSD as a higher earner through endorsements than even Mr. Tendulkar.
Given the current happenings in the world of Indian cricket, this didn’t come as bolt from the BLUE. Youngsters are ruling the world of limited and super limited cricket in India and the veterans are sidelined (?) to play Test cricket. The Indian audience wants it staple diet of limited overs cricket and it identifies with the game of the ‘youth’. The brands obviously want men/boys who are under constant public glare and hence the abovementioned fallout. Demographics are the name of the game.
A few hours later MSD conveyed his wish to be rested for the Test match Series in Sri Lanka citing fatigue from playing incessant cricket over the past 15 months. And there was no doubting the veracity of his statement. From Jan 01, 2007 MSD played 14 tests, 55 ODIs and 9 T20 matches, which amounts to a possible 134 days spent on the field playing international matches. He also played 16 IPL games captaining the Chennai Superstars team in the IPL league. One is ignoring the Ranji trophy/ Challenger tournaments that he participated in during that time frame. To put things in perspective, he captained and kept in 39 of the matches in the smaller version of the game and captained in a test match as well. The pressure that was being soaked up by MSD was enormous. He raised his misgivings about the back to back matches scheduled at the Asia cup at a press conference. The BCCI immediately jumped on his statements suggesting that any player feeling overworked should opt for a rest. Its reaction was too swift, too sharp and not in good taste. The guy was only complaining about back to back matches. But being MSD, he converted this threat into an opportunity and conveyed his decision to rest during the SL tour.
This is one of the rare occasions in the annals of Indian cricket when an Indian cricketer has voluntarily rested by himself. And that too for a test match series. It’s a reflection on the confidence of the man and also on the consistency of the selection process. Just a few years back, this step would be looked upon as a career limiting move, but no more.
While saluting the tireless efforts of the ODI captain and his need to have some rest, one has an uncomfortable, niggling doubt at the back of one’s mind. The timing of the ‘rest’ and the occasion seem to be like a typical MSD shot. Powerful, but lacking grace.
MSD’s step has reopened the simmering debate of playing for the country v/s playing for money and the priorities of the post modern cricketer in terms of Test cricket v/s the smaller format. To further complicate matters, maybe even a ‘seniors’ v/s ‘young turks’ cold war has been alleged by some parts of the media.
One has not heard of any formal communication between MSD and the current test captain and whether there was any discussion about his decision. Being the vice-captain of the test team makes it even more imperative for getting the captain’s nod. MSD may have had the captain’s go ahead, but one hasn’t heard of any such newsflash from the ever vigilant media.
Another question that is left unanswered as of now has been Dhoni’s availability for the SL ODI tour. Now that is a million dollar question (frankly given the current numbers thrown around as remuneration to cricketers and the depreciation of the USD, it should be a ‘billion’ dollar question). If MSD indeed joins the ODI team in SL, it will throw up a lot of uncomfortable questions. Does his being the ‘captain’ of the ODI team matter in his decision making? Is he giving more importance to the limited version of the game?
Being a ‘professional’ player, Dhoni has every right to make his future secure. So one is not even getting into a debate of whether he should have skipped IPL to get his ‘rest’. Though one still has doubts about the reasons for his playing as a wicket keeper for a major part of the IPL tournament even when Parthiv Patel was a regular in the Chennai team.
This decision throws up a few questions for the future to the selectors as well. Will they have a candid chat with MSD about his future as a potential test captain? What happens if Dinesh Karthik performs splendidly in the tests? Will the selectors have the guts to drop MSD? He has, by no stretch of imagination, been the MVP of the Indian test team. They have to decide whether this fact is acting as a motivator or otherwise on him.
In India, when the going is good, especially in cricket, everything one does is turned a blind eye to. A possibly ‘selfish’ decision is hailed as a ‘brave’ one. Dropping senior players out of the 30 probables for champions trophy is termed as ‘forward looking’. Players attending fashion shows and parties and ad shoots, is a photo op. One feels it’s better to be a cynic in rosy times rather than being one in disastrous ones. Look at all those brave souls on CNBC who talked about Sensex touching 40k when it was at 21k.
Sachin Tendulkar might have passed the baton to MSD in terms of endorsement contracts. But maybe in terms of his legacy as a ‘brand’, if this is the passing of the baton, one reserves the judgment on whether it has indeed passed in the right hands.
Posted by Rahul
Green Turns to Brown …
“…Now, on Nadal’s ad side there’s a 16-stroke point. Nadal is serving a lot faster than he did in Paris, and this one is down the center. Federer floats a soft forehand high over the net, which he can get away with because Nadal never comes in behind his serve. The Spaniard now hits a characteritically heavy topspin forehand deep to Federer’s backhand; Federer comes back with an even heavier topspin backhand, almost a clay-court shot. It’s unexpected and backs Nadal up, slightly, and his response is a low hard short ball that lands just past the service line’s T on Federer’s forehand side. Against most other opponents, Federer could simply end the point on a ball like this, but one reason that Nadal gives him trouble is that he’s faster than the others, can get to stuff they can’t; and so Federer here just hits a flat , medium-hard cross-court forehand, going not for a winner but for a low, shallowly angled ball that forces Nadal up and out to the deuce side, his backhand. Nadal, on the run, backhands it hard down the line to Federer’s backhand, Federer slices it right back down the same line, slow and floaty with backspin, making Nadal come back to the same spot. Nadal slices the ball right back – three shots now all down the same line – and Federer slices the ball back to the same spot yet again, this one even slower and floatier, and Nadal gets planted and hits a big two-hander back down the same line – it’s like Nadal’s camped out now on his deuce side; he’s no longer moving all teh way back to the baseline’s centre between shots; Federer’s hypnotized him a little. Federer now hits a very hard, deep topspin backhand, the kind that hisses, to a point just slightly on the ad side of Nadal’s baseline, which Nadal gets to and forehands crosscourt; and Federer responds with an even harder, heavier cross-court backhand, baseline deep and moving so fast that Nadal has to hit the forehand off his backfoot and then scramble back to get back to centre as the shot lands maybe two feet short on Federer’s backhand side again. Federer steps up to the ball and now hits a totally different cross-court backhand, this one much shorter and sharper-angled, an angle no one would anticipate, and so heavy and blurred with topspin that it lands shallow and just inside the sideline and takes off hard after the bounce, and Nadal can’t move in to cut it off and can’t get to it laterally along the baseline, because of the angle and topspin – End of Point. It’s a spectacular winner, A Federer moment, but watching it live, you can see that it’s also a winner that Federer started setting up four or even five shots earlier. Everything after that first down-the-line slice was designed by the Swiss to maneuver Nadal and lull him and then disrupt his rhythm and balance and open up that last, unimaginable angle – an angle that would have been impossible without extreme topspin….”
This, of course, was 2006. Roger Federer won in 4 sets. But it highlights how things have changed. In that grand magnum opus of a final on Sunday, for the most part , it was Rafael Nadal in control. For much of those five hours, it was he that was maneuvering the pace and forcing issues. It was not just about somehow keeping the ball in play. This Sunday, he was just that much further than he was last year and just as he was making near impossible geometric threading-the-needle angles on court, so also was he making some deep inroads into what had seemed thus far to be a near impregnable mindset of the ice cool Swiss.
The fact that all this was happening in Roger Federer’s own den is what makes it all the more special. Lets get the stats out of the way. The last time the Fed had lost anywhere on Grass was 2002. He had a 65 match unbroken streak going into the finals at Wimbledon. 5 straight Championships. No sets dropped en route to this final. At the start of this year, with 12 Grand Slams, it seemed that the only real challenger he had was history itself. So complete has been his dominance that it seems almost incomprehensible that he never made it past the quarterfinals in the first 16 Grand Slams that he entered. (Of the next 21, he’s won 12, been a finalist 4 times and a semifinalist thrice.) Most importantly, in Roger Federer, Tennis has the kind of champion that the sport deserves.
Its ironical that Wimbledon’s Lawn Tennis Museum in a section about the history of the rackets used there has a climax which reads thus :
Today’s lightweight frames made of space-age materials like graphite, boron, titanium and ceramics, with larger heads – mid-size (90-95 square inches) and over-size(110 square inches) have totally transformed the character of the game. Nowadays it is powerful hitters who dominate with heavy topspin. Serve-and-volley players and those who rely on subtlety and touch have virtually disappeared.
The irony is amplified because this is, and has been Roger “Subtlety and Nuance” Federer’s decade. Tennis should be proud.
And on Sunday, so hard was the challenge, so determined the competitor, that the champion was virtually forced to win every point (ok – the majority of the points, but allow me the emotional overdose for its only been 36 hours) through extraordinary shots and he nearly did it !
Which brings us to Rafael Nadal. Hopefully now, we (amateur commentators) will stop equating him with muscle and power and speed and recognise him for that rarest quality that he shares with the greats of most sport. Aggression devoid of hostility. Oh and yes, some indefatigable determination. And this ability to be inspired by defeat. And stay grounded in victory. And that apart from all the technical attributes of the sport that enable somebody to so quickly transform a game from complete dominance on the clay of Rolland Garros to the, admittedly increasingly sunbaked and hence slower, grass of Wimbledon.
If this was a passing of the baton (and it is too early to say), then its in good hands.
Of wounded Tigers …
For years Roger Federer has steamrolled, dismantled, and humbled his opponents with consummate ease. The ranking of the opponents or the stage of the tournament didn’t really matter. The comments that followed from the vanquished ranged from ‘I played my best Tennis but he still outclassed me’ to ‘To be called a rivalry, I’ve to start winning once in a while’. The almost humble salute to the crowd after every victory, the graciousness to his opponents in victory and also in the odd defeat, had become synonymous with the Federer Tennis style. Almost every opponent who has played against him, every coach who tried to plot his downfall admitted that the gap was too wide and Federer stood taller than the rest.
The hallmark of a true champion has always been the fear and respect that he generates in the minds of his opponents and the continued dreading that he can and may win against them even from impossible situations. Federer generated that awe in his opponents from the start of 2004 when he became the top seed. He generated a kind of hopelessness and despair in an opponent which was rarely seen in the sport. The frustrating part for the opponents was that they couldn’t even hate him for that. He was not overtly aggressive. He wasn’t in-your–face. He was too polite to be engaged in verbal warfare.
For all these years Rafael Nadal had stood between Federer and the unofficial title of the ‘all time great tennis player of the world’. Nadal was his Achilles heel. Nadal was his nemesis. Nadal was his Kryptonite. Nadal was the only current player to have a better head to head record against Federer (if one takes a minimum of 5 matches or more, else Andy Murray also qualifies) 10 – 6. The French open trophy was the only one missing from the cupboard, thanks to Nadal. Federer hired Jose Higueras, a clay court specialist as his coach in April 08 in a desperate attempt to fill this void on his trophy cabinet. This was after a hiatus of playing without a coach for almost a year. This showed his desperation to find an answer to the Nadal riddle.
A few points to note in this entire Federer – Nadal rivalry was that, in spite of the better head to head stat for Nadal, there was still a yawning gap between them in the ATP ranking points. The head to head on a clay court was favoring Nadal 9-1, which meant that on all other surfaces it stood at 5 – 1 Federer. The fact that most clay court skirmishes had happened in the finals was ample proof that Federer himself was no mean clay court player. The fact that they met only 6 times in non-clay court tournaments with Federer winning many of them (the tournaments) & more, also is self explanatory. But all this analysis to Roger would be nothing but a pointless excuse. The search for perfection didn’t stop with 2 surfaces, nor did it stop with the ATP rankings. Not for Roger for sure.
The year 2008 hadn’t been too kind to Federer. A Win/Loss record of 26-7 with only one title to show, losses to Mardy Fish, Radek Stepanek, Andy Murray and a stunning straight 3 set loss to Novak Djokovic in the Australian Open semi final didn’t bode too well for his chances at the French Open 2008. He later revealed that he had suffered from mononucleosis during the Australian Open. But critics had started questioning his aura of invincibility. Was he past his prime? They had built a super hero image around him and a super hero wasn’t allowed a slump in form. The appointment of Higueras had given mixed results. He lost to Nadal twice at Monte Carlo and Hamburg in the finals. The entire world’s eyes were fixed on the French Open though. If news paper reports were to be believed Roger limped through to the finals. 3 out of the 6 matches that he played were won in straight sets, 3 were won in 4 sets. The 4 setters included the quarter finals and semi finals. Raffa on the other hand had blasted through his opponents without dropping a set. He seemed to be in imperious touch. It was one of the most eagerly awaited finals. Bjorn Borg, whose record Raffa was set to equal had put his bet on Roger, stating that he had become more aggressive and this could be his year.
Cometh the final, Roger Federer was rudely reminded of the gamut of feelings his opponents went through while playing him through out his glittering career. Hope at first, a bit of irritation at missing a few, a feeling of frustration when one’s best is not good enough for the guy on the other side of the net, desperate new measures and tactics to get a toe hold in the match, a sense of helplessness to see those tactics fail and finally complete abject surrender. All this happened in a span of less than 2 hours.
One feels that more than the result or the manner of losing, what would have stung Roger more would be Nadal’s reaction on winning the match and his comments there after. When Nadal closed out the victory, his celebration was muted. He briefly raised his arms and walked to the net, where he and Federer put their arms around each other.
“Today it was tough for Roger, I think,” Nadal said, “and I have to be respectful with one very good guy.” “Roger, I’m sorry for the final,” Nadal said. An opponent feeling sorry for you is the worst thing one wants to hear after a crushing defeat.
Roger Federer for a long time needed tremendous self motivation to go out there and perform because of the lack of any real consistent threat. How long can one sustain the motivation for improvement if one is already way above others? Others start catching up with one and if one’s form dips a bit one’s supremacy starts getting seriously challenged. Maybe Federer still thought that it was his dip in form which was losing matches for him. Normalcy would return once he recaptured the elusive form. But the French open was more than a loss. It was humiliation and a humiliated champion is like a wounded tiger.
There is an interesting story about Aravinda de Silva and Kapil Dev. That was the time when Aravinda had just arrived in international cricket as an extremely gifted batsman and Kapil was just slowing down a bit with age. In those days bowlers normally were not given the charge. But Arvinda had started to give him the charge even before the ball was delivered. Arjuna Ranatunga who was batting with him came down and asked him to mellow down. He said some thing to the tune of “don’t arouse a tiger, even an old one can destroy you”. One has read this story many years back so the details may be incorrect.
Roger Federer is only 26, not an ‘old tiger’ by any stretch of imagination. The French open defeat may sting him into some serious introspection & action.
Federer won the Halle tournament last week in an emphatic fashion. With this victory he took his unbeaten record on grass to 59 matches. He didn’t drop a set or even his serve through the tournament. Raffa at the same time won his first grass court title at Queen’s club in London beating Djokovic. Wimbledon 2008 promises to be riveting.
Tiger Woods is another name that comes to mind which generates that sinking feeling in an opponent sans any hostility. To take the latest example, the reaction of Rocco Mediate to Tiger’s magical 15 feet birdie put that took the 108th US Open to a 18 hole play off –“You can’t ever expect him to miss”. How can one believe that one’s opponent, who is struggling with a knee injury, on the last hole, one stroke down, can make that shot under that kind of pressure? Mediate did. Tiger made him think so. The play off was equally exciting but Woods prevailed as was expected. No wonder Nike saw a great opportunity in bringing together 2 of the greatest sport icons in the form of Federer and Tiger Woods in their promos in 2007.
This was the Roger – Tiger ad from Nike last year
The difference of 2 remains constant, though the score has moved to 14-12 now. One wounded tiger will be chasing another wounded (literally) Tiger’s record. The saga continues.
Posted by Rahul
Cricket according to Clarkson …
Have been reading ‘The World According to Clarkson’ written by Jeremy Clarkson. He writes a weekly column in The Sunday Times and is better known to BBC viewers as the anchor of Top Gear. His writing style is witty, irreverent and (not atypically British) pulling down everything and every one. Many of his views/ opinions about things in general and Europeans in particular need not agree with this reader’s digestive system but he’s a compulsive read. One came across this article & found it hilarious and admittedly exaggerated.
But what the heck, one needs to laugh at oneself and other fellow cricket lovers once in a while.
Cricket’s the National Sport of Time Wasters
I understand that England recently lost a game of cricket. Good. The more we lose, the more our interest in the game wanes and the less it will dominate our newspapers and television screens.
Cricket – and I will not take any arguments – is boring. Any sport which goes on for so long that you might need a ‘comfort break’ is not a sport at all. It is merely a means of passing the time. Like reading.
Of course, we used to have televised reading. It was called Jackanory. Now we have Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is much better. Things have moved on, but cricket has not.
I’m not sure that it can. Even if Nasser Hussain, who is the captain of England, were to invest in some new hair and marry Council House Spice (aka Claire Sweeney, the ex-Brookside actress turned Big Brother contestant), it wouldn’t make any difference.
Nobody is quite sure how cricket began, though many people believe it was invented by shepherds who used their crooks to defend the wicket gate to the sheep fold. This would certainly figure because shepherds had many long hours to while away, with nothing much to do.
The first written reference to cricket was in 1300, when Prince Edward played it with his friend Piers Gaveston. And again, this would figure. Princes, in those days, were not exactly rushed off their feet.
Cricket was spread around the world by British soldiers who found themselves marooned in godforsaken flea-bitten parts of the world and needed something to keep them amused, not just for an hour but for week after interminable week.
Today Australia dominates the game – which furthers my theory. Of course they’re good at it. They have no distractions. And the only way we can ever beat them is to round up the unemployed and the wastrels and give them all bats. Certainly, they’d feel at home in the pavilion. It’s exactly the same thing as sitting in a bus shelter all day.
Let me put it this way – is there a sound more terrifying on a Sunday afternoon than a child saying ‘Daddy. Can we play Monopoly?’
Like cricket, Monopoly has no end. The rules explain how you can unmortgage a property and when you should build hotels on Bond Street but they don’t say, and they should, that the winner is the last player left alive. And what about Risk? You make a calculation, based on the law of averages, that you can take the world but you’re always stymied by the law of probability and end up out of steam, throwing an endless succession of twos and ones in Kamchatka. Still, this is preferable to the modern version in which George W. Bush invades Iraq and we all die of smallpox.
Happily, my children are now eight, six and four so they’re way past the age when board games hold any appeal. Given the choice of mortgaging Old Kent Road or shooting James Bond on PlayStation, they’ll take the electronic option every time.
Then there are jigsaws, which I once had to explain to a Greek. ‘Yes, you spend a couple of weeks putting all the pieces together so you end up with a picture.’
‘Then what happens?’ he asked.
‘Well, you break it up again and put it back in the box.’
It’s not often I’ve felt empathy with a Greek, but I did then. And it’s much the same story with crosswords. If scientists could harness the brainpower spent every day on trying to find the answer to ‘Russian banana goes backwards in France we hear perhaps’, then maybe mankind might have cured cancer by now.
Crosswords like jigsaws and cricket, are not really games in themselves. They are simply tools for wasting time. And that’s not something that sits well in the modern world.
We may dream of living the slow life, taking a couple of hours over lunch and eating cheese until dawn, but the reality is that we have a heart attack if the traffic lights stay red for too long or the lift doors fail to close the instant we’re ready to go.
Answering-machine messages are my particular bugbear. I want a name and a number, and that’s it. I don’t have time to sit and listen to where you’ll be at three and who you’ll be seeing and why you need to talk before then. And even if I do pick up the phone personally, I don’t want a chat. I’m a man. I don’t do chatting. Say what you have to say and go away.
British film-makers still haven’t got this. They spend hours with their sepia lighting and their long character developing speeches abd it’s all pointless because we’d much rather watch a muscly American saying ‘Die, m**********r.’
Slow cooked lamb shanks for supper? Oh for God’s sake, I’ll get a takeaway.
Cricket, then, is from a bygone age when people invested their money in time rather than in things. And now we have so many things to play with and do, it seems odd to waste it watching somebody else playing what is basicallyan elaborate game of catch.
Please stop watching – then it will go away
This was penned by Jeremy in 2002. Before Twenty20.
Posted by Rahul.
A Royal dare ….
Let one start by admitting that this is not going to be the standard match summary/ report that one reads on haloed cricket sites. This is a fan’s account of the celebration, torture, hope, despair and sweat, which was the IPL semi final between the Rajasthan Royals and Delhi Daredevils.
The day started normally. One had no intentions to watch the match at the stadium. Long discussions on the previous evening had convinced every one in the room (cant call a dealing room a department) that watching the match in a pub with friends was far superior to going through the trials and tribulations of a Wankhede visit. Come noon, a few brave souls had started calling up friends to enquire about their well being in general and availability of extra tickets in particular. The replies were encouraging but needed a wait of another couple of hours. There was an air of quiet confidence in the group. Things began to change over the passage of a couple of hours. Confidence gave way to hope, hope to expectancy, expectancy to stark reality. Reality is like a life jacket. It takes long to sink in. One could hear growing mutterings about the stupidity of sitting in a packed stadium watching some pointless match. A couple of hours before the scheduled start time, plans were afoot to watch the game at a pub, when Christmas reached the shores of Nariman Point a tad early. Someone had caught hold of Santa Claus and arranged for 10 tickets.
This caused a surge of excitement across the room and frantic calls to the better halves were made excusing themselves for the evening. As is the norm in this country droughts are followed by floods. Sipping cold barley water at a watering hole, trying to fortify against the inhuman heat of the city, one suddenly realized that 15 tickets for 10 people was a bit of the American style of living. 5 lucky co-guzzlers were the recipients of Santa’s benevolence. Their initial reaction was of frank incredulence. They checked and rechecked the tickets to figure the catch. There was none. Having done the good deed of the year, one proceeded to the stadium.
The semi final was billed to be a clash of the titans. Shane Warne had turned an average Rajasthan Royals (RR) team into an outstanding one. Virender Sehwag’s Delhi Dare Devils (DD) was well balanced. One was interested in the spectators’ reaction to the two teams as the home team was already out of the semi finals. Royals seemed to be winnings hands down in this category. The huge roar that preceded McGrath’s first ball was just an anomaly. The majority were backing the Royals. Normally Indian crowds back the underdog. A team which was standing at the top of the points table in the league stage couldn’t be termed as one. But the perception of RRs being a weak team, which was built up before the start of the IPL seemed to be lingering after a span of some 40 odd days. Or maybe it’s just that Mumbaikars disliked Delhi more.
Graeme Smith, who was injured in the prior two matches was opening with Swapnil Asnodkar. The first over went off quietly without any major cricketing action. Mohammed Asif seemed to forget that Asnodkar was a passable boxer at a young age. Upper cuts and jabs and pulls continued to form a large part of his cricketing prowess. A straight bat was anathema to him. A couple of short ones from Asif and the floodgates opened. Graeme Smith immediately pulled one of his many muscles and asked for a runner.
Whether Sehwag commented on this later in the post match conference is not known. If a player who has sat out of 2 matches with a suspect injury is played in a crucial tie with common knowledge that he may get unfit during the course of the match then the opposition captain has every right to deny him a runner. Adam Gilchrist had commented on the DDs strategy of using good fielders as substitutes. It did bring into picture the concept of fair play. Smith’s inclusion highlighted it.
With Smith and Asnodkar giving a flier of a start, Yo Mahesh decided to contribute. And boy, did he contribute. He was pulled, flicked, cut with impudence. Maharoof dropped a sleeper (it was easier than a sitter). The momentum seemed to be turning the Royals’ way. Smith departed, followed by Asnodkar with Maharoof trying to make up for his earlier lapse. In walked Shane Watson. The stadium erupted. His name was chanted with a religious fervour. He didn’t disappoint. Along with some help from Yomy, he never let the run rate slacken despite wickets falling at regular intervals. Sehwag got Asif back desperately trying to get Watson. Why he didn’t try to bowl himself or throw the ball to Dilshan will never be known. The highlight of the evening was a gala solo from who else but, dear reader you guessed it right, Yo Mahesh. A Watson shot sailed in the air towards deep mid wicket. YM who was probably wearing a telescope lens in the reverse, thinking the ball to be far ahead of him rushed forward gallantly. The ball seemed to have reassessed the situation and decided to jump and kick a bit more. YM was seen lying flat on his stomach on the practice pitch and the ball was lying outside the boundary. That one moment encapsulated the day for the DDs. Yusuf Pathan got into action with his customary swats and the scoreboard showed 192 by the end of 20 overs.
It was heading to be a good close match. Sehwag and Gambhir had been in good touch and with the likes of Shikhar Dhawan, Dilshan, Dinesh Karthik and Manoj Tewary to follow, the match was on. Well it got switched off pretty early. In fact it never was switched on. Watson cleaned up the top 3. Even Munaf Patel looked threatening. The crowd was getting restless. It had come to watch a breath taking contest but only the extreme heat and humidity seemed to be succeeding in doing that for them. By the eighth over the fat lady had sung and the stadium was emptying out. Watching Warne bowl was the only reason that kept one glued to the seat. Once that objective was achieved one was out of the stadium in a flash.
The walk back home was not pleasant. Cabs were at a premium and after half an hour and a 4 km walk one was back at one’s castle swearing never to watch a live game again.
As one is writing this, frantic calls are being made to check the availability of tickets for today’s game.
Posted by Rahul
T20, Tests, Jim and Edna …
Watching with interest the debate on T20s and Tests, I wonder if there is any right side at all.
Its all perspective – …
Jim and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital.
One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Jim suddenly jumped into the deep end. He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there. Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled Jim out. When the medical director became aware of Edna’s heroic act, he immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital as he now considered her to be mentally stable.
When he went to tell Edna the news he said, “Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you’re being discharged, since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of another patient. I have concluded that your act displays sound mindness. The bad news is, Jim, the patient you saved, hung himself right after you saved him, with his bathrobe belt in the bathroom.
I am so sorry, but he’s dead.”Edna replied “He didn’t hang himself, I put him there to dry.”
The Olympics Curtain Raiser ..
On 08/08/08, the Olympics begin in Beijing. They like that number and consider it auspicious. Lucky even. The Olympics are, of course, more than just that.
Take a look at this piece by Rohit Brijnath carried over the weekend in the Straits Times.
Its called :
Natalie is courage, she is self-belief.
Often in sport, we speak of it, this idea of human spirit, this triumphant mesh of hope, courage, self-belief, this staring down of adversity.
It is hard to define this spirit, but we know it when we see it. Because it makes us feel puny, because it lifts us, because it reminds us of the potential of the human race.
This spirit is Karoly Takacs, a gifted pistol shooter of the 1930-50s, losing his right hand in a grenade accident, learning to shoot with his left, and eventually winning Olympic gold.
It is Cliff Meidl, a plumber, hitting a power cable with his jackhammer, getting a 30,000 volt shock that cracked his skull, burnt his toes, resulted in three cardiac arrests and 13 surgeries on his legs that were almost amputated. Ten years later, he competed at the 1996 Olympics as a kayaker.
And it is this young woman.
Her name is Natalie du Toit, she is 24 years old, and she owns a laugh that is almost musical. And in August, at the Beijing Olympics, when the women line up for the 10km open water swim, you will see her.
She will be hard to miss because she will be the only one there with one leg.
Look at the leg, it is okay, she is used to it. On the phone from South Africa the other day, we spoke of it. Never has an athlete with such a disability qualified for the Olympics, and it is understandable you will look at it.
But eventually get over the leg. It is part of her, yet she is more than that. She does not want to be seen as a symbol for anything, she is not bridging a divide, between abled and disabled athletes.
She is just, she says firmly, “an athlete trying to get better”.
What Natalie du Toit is telling us is, please, look at my ability, not my disability.
Natalie did not make the Olympics because a car ran into her in 2001, which led to a through-knee amputation. She made it because it was a dream she would not get go of, a dream held on to so ferociously that even a car could not run over it.
“The Olympics have nothing to do with my disability,” she says, “it’s a dream I had as a six-yer old.”
Four months or so after the amputation, she was back in the water where you cannot see her leg or the lack of one, back in the water where she is herself.
There is a cheerful matter of factness to her voice, an unwillingness to pity herself or sell a sad tale, so you must imagine her world then. A body unable to balance itself, unable to push itself off the wall, unable to kick during sprints to the finish, unable to do what it once naturally could.
And then wonder at the self-belief that surged through her, her appetite for work, her ability to wear pain, her stubborn refusal to accept her quest was over. It was an acceptance of a challenge that was, well, Olympian.
Ask her about inspiration and she points to Lance Armstrong. “He cycled when it was snowing, in the cold, when others were scared of getting injured, ” and she is not referring to teh cyclists cancer but his intensity. “It’s about putting in that little extra,” she says.
And so she did, slowly, steadily the mind constantly teaching the body to adapt.
Long ago, she said of her return to the water : “It was not nice seeing little babies beat you. So I just had to train harder … get up with the guys … get up with the seniors … get back to the level I was swimming at before.”
She got so far that a year later, she was in the 800 metres freestyle final at the Commonwealth Games, an astonishing feat for no disabled athlete had swum in an able bodied event.
And then three weeks ago, in Seville, she qualified for Beijing by coming fourth in the 10 km open water world championship.
On her website, he motto reads, “Be everything you want to be”. And because she has lived it all these years, she is finally where she wants to be. At the Olympics.
Natalie, who does not use a prosthetic and compensates with a thrower’s upper body, says, “I never thought of being disadvantaged”, but she is.
Which is why coaches, she said, told her to try the 10k, “because there are no turns and not much sprinting so you don’t lose as much.”
Its a race that demands from the mind, for as she says” after one hour you’re already aching, you start to hurt, but everyone is hurting, and you have to raise your game”.
Quitters are not invited to this contest where elbows fly under water, and at the World Championships, Du Toit exited with a black eye and says that one of her male teammates had a cut cornea.
And then there is the seaweed, which is the only time her voice raises an octave, for she says, “I hate seaweed”, believing as she does that sharks occasionally linger there.
Ask her about Beijing, and gold is never spoken of. “I just want to improve”. she says.
A medal ? “If it comes it will be a bonus”. What she is clear about is her effort. “I will try my utmost,” she says, and that we believe.
So when the Games commences, remember this name, look for this swimmer. She will probably be easy to recognise, only because of the wide smile on her face.
After all, a medal would be nice, but Natalie du Toit will know that just being in Beijing is proof of the power of a child’s dream and the strength of a woman’s spirit.
What the Doctor ordered …
XYZ Newswire: May XX 20xx
Doctor Vijay Mallya hit the nail on its head, pierced the bull’s eye and put his finger on the problem all at once when he commented, “At the end of the day people need to understand that the IPL has a corporate side to it, and a very definitive corporate side at that. It is not at all cricket in the traditional sense.”
This was indeed refreshing news to be greeted with first thing in the morning. We happened to be staying in the same hotel as the Royal Challengers and were not shocked to find a slip of paper under our doors outlining Team RC strategy. Or so one thought.
In today’s world where people hear of banks rationing toilet paper, Team RC’s strategy wasn’t uppermost in the mind of the writer(s) of the piece of paper. It was about controlling the team’s expenses in these times of high inflation. A few salient features which could pass the test of the Censors are reproduced below.
“As all the players may be aware, the US-led global economy is entering a recessionary cycle and the Royal Challengers team is showing no signs of coming out of one. As the good doctor mentioned, it’s not at all cricket in the traditional sense. The buzzword is ‘performance’. Repeated stress on this key issue seems to have inexplicably increased the stress levels of the players, coaches and managers. This is clearly unacceptable. The franchise is losing money faster than Ricky Ponting is losing friends and the writer losing his hair. With a view to bring back some semblance of business sense to the said undertaking, players are advised to adhere to the following principles.
- It has been observed that each player has been carrying more than 8 bats in his kit. Team work is all about sharing and caring. Henceforth, the team will have a rolling stock of 6 bats with 6 more being kept in reserves. The remaining bats will be sold off at auctions. Players are requested to get autographs of other teams’ star players to enhance ‘bat valuations’.
- For ‘home’ games, local players are requested to take care of their team mates’ boarding & lodging requirements.
- During the remaining tenure of the IPL, players will be provided with rations of 3 bottles of beer. This step has to be taken as the cost of a beer bottle for the owners is higher than the cost of bottled water, which is produced only to be displayed on TV ads. Players will have to pay a (subsidized) rate for additional beverages consumed.
- Players who haven’t played in a single match till date are requested to take care of the laundry of the entire team. A washing machine will be provided at all venues for assistance.
- All players will have to attend a daily crash training course for pursers. All future flights will have to be undertaken as pursers/air hostesses (there’s no cause to worry as all uniforms will be provided by the management). In an extreme case, a player may be accommodated as the co-pilot. Players with international driving licenses are requested to register themselves with the management.
- At the end of every match night, there will be a round of ‘match ka mujrim’ (for the uninitiated, this program is a witch hunt on a popular news channel after every loss of the Indian national cricket team) to decide who pays for that night’s drinks and dinner.
- It is proposed that Katrina Kaif be sacked as the team ambassador. A search for the replacement is on. One of the cheerleaders has shown keen interest in the said position.
- One of the members of the accounting team has expressed his surprise at bats being treated differently from abdomen guards and has ….
The remaining part of the text has been edited to prevent offending the sensibilities of the millions of sensitive souls out there.
One common refrain of most commentators on the Mallya episode has been – We told you so. This is what the IPL will do to cricket. Make it a slave to accountability taken to its extreme, at best and the whims and fancies of the owners at its worst.
What Mallya has done by publicly criticizing Rahul Dravid’s team picking ability is nothing but publicly castigating his team’s captain for it’s pathetic performance. Accountability may be one thing but the manner in which people are held responsible for a debacle is quite another. Mallya went too far.
But does this incident prove that IPL is out to convert cricket into a completely different entity. Let’s take the case of the other 2-3 teams which haven’t done too well. The Deccan Challengers seem to have been the underperformers of IPL season 2008. With big name signings like Gibbs/ Gilly/ Laxman / Styris/ Rohit Sharma / Andrew Symonds and Shahid Afridi, they can be safely called one of the top contenders for the wooden spoon. The DC owners may be extremely upset with the results, but one has hardly come across any statements or actions from them. Similarly Mukesh Ambani may have the right to feel peeved about his team’s standing and also the sort of team that was picked up for the tournament. No harsh words/actions from him either.
Maybe the problem with Mallya is that, despite his utterances he thinks he knows the game himself. To draw an analogy, one has to go back in time by just an year. The kind of reaction after India’s WC debacle from the ‘knowledgeable’ public and experts and the team selection demanded for the Bangladesh tour was very similar. They were over reacting and so is the good Doctor.
The English Premier League which is supposedly a role model for the IPL has enough and more examples of Team Owners conflicts with managers. Jose Mourinho, who was brought to Chelsea by the Russian billionaire Roman Abrahamovich, quit at the start of the season as matters between the two had come to a head. Two EPL titles in the past didnt matter. Ostensibly, Schevchenko not playing was a point of contention. Or so says the omnipresent rumour mill. But really it came to a standstill / standoff when Chelsea got just 11 points from their first six games this season and Arsenal and Man United were running away. Then there’s the current struggle between the American owners of Liverpool and their current manager Rafa Benitez. In most of the cases, team performance has been an issue. But normally the owners haven’t claimed to possess sports knowledge worthy of the managers.
Mallya taking hardly 3 weeks to blame someone for failure and the years it took for the Indian Sports Ministry holding Gill responsible for the IHF functioning are two extremes of the spectrum. It’s not the IPL that is bringing this phenomenon single handedly to cricket. The inexorable march of modern sport to professionalism will ensure its presence in the near future. Amen.
But, is it really all evil and dangerous ? Were the 1 crore bonuses paid to the selectors for daring to choose a largely newbie team which resulted in the ODI series win in Australia not “corporate” ? Are all the brand endorsements that everyone so strongly condemns as a reason for our defeats (in the oh-so-pure forms of cricket ) really a corruption of the game ?
Sure, Vijay Mallya’s behaviour was “signature” egoistic, but if thats good enough to generalise the corporate evil then we’ve seen it before.
Not that we agree but thats a bit like saying
“Pawar corrupts. Absolut power corrupts absolutely”….
Posted by Rahul and Sfx
9.something …
Running a race is the closest a human being can come to feel and express one’s natural abilities. It’s a pure show of physical strength and stamina sans any artificial extensions like a tennis racket or a cricket bat. The 1500m or a 10km race is not only about speed. Its about tactics, its about outguessing one’s opponent, its about pacing the race and timing the final assault on the finishing line.
However the sexiest event of an athletic competition happens when the guns go boom to a line up of 8 human F1cars. The 100 meters is the most watched one unarguably. It’s a bit like T20, it’s over before one says ‘twiddledums’. It’s thought to be pure speed. But just like T20 it has it’s own nuances, its own strategies. Those 9.some seconds are what most sprinters live for. Some choose to sacrifice themselves for the same by using banned substances. Probably because the stakes are so high and one has no second chances. No time to pull back. Well almost.
They kneel down to push their torsos up from their bent down position, every muscle in the body ready for the assault. They have their goal literally in sight, only 100 meters away. The start is important, the finish more so.
Beijing 2008 will be witness to a muted but intense rivalry to decide the title of ‘the fastest man on earth’. Asafa Powell has always been in the race (pun intended). The sixth son from 2 country pastors from Jamaica has been one of the more soft spoken faster guys around. His biggest clean competitor around has been another soft spoken guy. Tyson Gay.
Powell is the world’s fastest man with a 100 meter timing of 9.74 seconds but has no major championship medal to show for all that speed. Tyson Gay is the triple event winner of the 100m, 200m and the 4 X 100 meter winning team in the 2007 Osaka World championships. Their rivalry has been at best an underplayed one, at worst nonexistent.
ESPN had a brilliant interview with both the protagonists before the world championships at Osaka in 2007. Both of them talked about respect for each other (unlike a heavy weight boxing title aspirant who Maurice Greene represented). They thought that they were the best. They reminded one of a Federer and a Nadal. Fierce competitors in a nice way. They were egotists maybe, but they had enough humility to disguise it. There was a shared respect amongst the world’s two best sprinters. And it seemed genuine. What is interesting to note is that no matter which sport, there’s only one road to excellence. It is about being in the zone. It is about relaxing. It is about doing simple (?) things perfectly right.
The Perfect 100
Powell: Every race is about 48 steps. At the start, you try to stay low out of the blocks. Then you go to your drive phase, then to your lifting phase, at about 50 meters. After 60 meters you can’t go any faster, so you’re trying to stay relaxed and maintain that speed to the 100-meter mark. My toughest part has been the end. But I’ve worked really hard on that — maintaining form and trying to stay relaxed.
Gay: I’m trying to work on my start. As a 200m runner, you can have a bad start and still catch up. You don’t have room for mistakes in the 100.
Powell: When you’re head-to-head with one or two guys, the natural reaction is to try harder to go faster. It will mess you up. Start to finish, don’t pay attention to anyone. It’s just you.
Gay: It’s scientifically proved that if you relax, you run faster. I’m still trying to understand it.
Powell: You have to visualize, make the race happen before it actually does. At 50 meters, I’m thinking, Lift! Lift! And, Swing your arms! That’s the only thing going through my mind.
Gay: The big thing is not changing anything when you get out there. You’ve got to practice the same thing over and over, so it’s basically muscle memory. For me, the perfect race is more a feeling, not necessarily the time — a race where I feel at ease, like I’m not trying.
Some one had to lose at the show down at Osaka 2007. Powell did. And he did it badly. Tongues wagged about his inability to perform under pressure. People talked about his inability to win major championships. With the Olympics looming in, tongues have started to wag again. This is what Michael Johnson, the legend had to say about Powell just a week back
SALVO, North Carolina, April 29 (Reuters) – Jamaican 100 metres world record holder Asafa Powell is not the world’s best sprinter, retired 200 and 400 record holder Michael Johnson said.
That honour, he said, goes to American world champion Tyson Gay.
“I measure sprinters based on consistency and (Gay) is the more consistent,” Johnson said during an online chat on the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) Web site (www.iaaf.org).
“He’s got better performances at championships,” Johnson added of Gay, the world 100 and 200 metres champion.
“Asafa Powell is a great talent but he can never get it done. He’s failed time after time at the championships.”
Powell’s world record of 9.74 seconds is a 10th of a second faster than Gay’s best of 9.84 but the Jamaican has never won a global sprint title.
That will not change in Beijing, according to Johnson.
Asked by an online questioner how Powell could win 100 metres gold at the Beijing Games in August, Johnson replied jokingly: “Trip Tyson Gay.”
He made the comment before Powell’s manager announced the Jamaican would not compete again until late June because of a pulled pectoral muscle.
Johnson also predicted Gay would win the 200 in Beijing to match his 2007 world championship sprint double.
It is possible that Johnson is practising ‘mental disintegration’ on Powell. Powell failing at major championships is a fact, but maybe it wasn’t due to choking every time.
Rafa Benitez, the Liverpool coach had commented on Didier Drogba’s diving capabilities before the second leg of the Champion League’s semi final with Chelsea. Many people might agree with Benitez (I sure do), but the timing of the statement was dubious. Here was a coach who was trying to pull down a player from the opposition before a crucial match. He was showing his desperation but he was also playing with fire. Drogba maybe a Greg Louganis on the football field, but the man can use his legs to perfection. He did. Drogba scored 2 goals in a 3-2 extra time win over Liverpool. This is what he did after scoring the first one. If a picture could tell a story, this one would be nominated at the Oscars.
Drogba said in an interview later that he had pinned Benitez’s photo in his locker to motivate himself. He wanted to react to Benitez’s allegations by scoring goals. And boy he did. Maybe Asafa Powell should take a leaf out of Drogba’s book and answer his critics once and for all by winning gold at Beijing. It will be a pity if he doesn’t, after dominating the short race for years. One can always send him Michael Johnson’s photo to pin in his room.
Powell will do well to remember what Sun Tzu has said in his ‘The Art of war’ – “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.”
Posted by Rahul
Cricket is dead. Long Live Cricket…
Its not just a game, they say. Its an artefact which we must preserve. And they’re right, of course. Cricket is a game of immense skill and strategy. Of ebbs and flows. The essential cricket battle is not just about which side scores more runs – but the manner in which innings are constructed and bowling strategies countered. A drama of ability calibrated to such high levels that everything extempore seems beautifully choreographed. The time honed skills when on peak display are a rivetting spectacle – their spontaneity making it better than theatre.
But what good is that theatre if it isn’t watched? And how far can we go to make it watchable ?
Thankfully for us, cricket has always been up to the task.
In its early form, Test Cricket was a timeless fight to the death, so to speak. Once a game began , it would end with a result. No rain nor storm could force a draw. It was a Test of many things, not the least of which was patience.
Then, the “I-have-to-catch-a-boat” Test happened and Timeless Tests morphed into those with an end date. 5 days (with an interspersed rest day) was a major innovation which fiddled with Test cricket’s fundamental traditions and actually set a deadline for when a match would finish. Now that one thinks about it , it must have been fairly blasphemous when first suggested but it brought a new set of nuances in. Now you had to construct and pace your innings, strategise (occasionally declare) and develop plans with time constraints. The idea of this first major – and all subsequent – innovations was to retain the sanctity of the inherent skills while also respecting the time of those involved ; spectators, players and administrators alike.
By the 1960s, having tasted the aggression of people like Don Bradman earlier, even that was beginning to seem long – and in response to growing demand for more action , One Day cricket was first introduced in England. This not only reduced the format from the existing 6 days to a single day but also brought it to one innings per side ! With limited overs !! As with all things which are built in response to market needs, it was (despite its fair distance from the traditions of the game), a resounding success. In 1971, somewhat by accident , a Limited Overs international was born and although it was the first time that national sides were playing each other in this form, it captured the World’s attention enough for the World Cup of One Day Internationals to be born a few years later.
Test cricket meanwhiled trundled alongside. It had travelled a long way from the Timeless Test age when it all began and now cohabited the sports’ stage with a compressed form of the game which increased the sports popularity as more countries joined in striving to compete with the best. Surely it could only be downhill from here. And for a while it seemed like thats what it would be.
Kerry Packer came and with him came the World Series Cricket circus. Not only were players not playing for the establishment, but there were other breaks from tradition to infuriate and sadden the purists. Night cricket , coloured clothing (pyjama cricket, if you please), white balls, players wearing double entendre’ T shirts (Big / Bad Boys play at night), Tina Turner videos and players playing (gasp !) for money rather than nation. Kerry Packer’s crew played Tests as well as Limited Overs Games and admittedly they were not well received initially but soon, the concept of the Day-Night game caught on. And Kerry Packer became legend. “There is a bit of whore in all of us, Gentlemen. Name your price”, he said to the Australian Board. And ultimately they did. In the words of Dr Greg Manning ” Packer paid $12 million not to buy cricket but to turn the cricket into something he could buy. The real meaning of his victory was that the game would never again be beyond price.”
At the height of the dramas surrounding World Series Cricket, Packer vouchsafed in a press conference that cricketers had long been exploited by authorities, and that they deserved better pay and conditions because of the pleasure they gave to millions. A journalist took up the thread for his remarks and wondered if the businessman was saying that his enterprise was “half-philanthropic”. Packer’s realism was too embedded for him to agree. “Half-philanthropic?” he said. “That makes me sound more generous than I am.”
Kerry Packer was the “commercialisation of the sport” as we now know it.
And yet, Australia now consider him the second biggest influence of the game (in a good way) for the sport in Australia after The Don. On his passing , the MCC observed a minute’s silence as a mark of respect for his contribution to the game.
Justifiably so. For Kerry Packer not only provided a much larger audience for a sport, and money that made the crumbing finances of cricket worldwide viable , but with the influence of his initiatives and the growing popularity of one day cricket – Test Cricket changed forever as well.
The ODI inarguably enhanced Tests. More results , more entertainment (of the pure cricket kind) and more revenues made it a bigger audience attraction than ever. Most importantly, in terms of skills – Better running between the wickets and fielding standards were natural offshoots but techniques went outside the textbooks and worked ! Of course, players of aggressive intent were part of the sport before the advent of ODIs but clearly that aspect of the game got more widespread.
So why this big hue and cry about Twenty20 in general and the Indian Premier League in particular ? How different is it from the Limited Overs game and how different is the inherent commercialisation from what Kerry Packer was doing ? Why are we so keen to dismiss the format at its very inception ? Why is there a school of thought that considers it so sacrilegious that they won’t watch ! Why are some so upset that obits of Test cricket are being considered and no positives – absolutely none can be seen ?
Equally importantly, why is something that was invented (yet again) by the British (in 2003 in response to the “Man and his dog watching County Cricket” syndrome), suddenly now Brutish ?
The origin of Twenty20 was really to bring cricket into a time “zone” which was comparable with other popular sport like Soccer or (Grand Slam) Tennis. The idea was, as most ideas are, a response to market needs as Cricket sought viewership. The idea was not to replace other forms of the sport – and just as the ODIs have not replaced Test cricket or other forms of first class cricket, its early if not erroneous to assume that Twenty20 will.
Initial cynicism is acceptable – and even welcome. After all, sixes and fours rain. Bowlers feel good with 7ish economy rates. Batsmen ostensibly don’t value wickets. Building an innings is almost a sin. Greed obliterates fear. Almost each toss has the losing skipper saying “conditions won’t change much”. With 3 hour match durations those are understatements. Things move lightning quick. Dot balls are gold. Risk is not a four letter word.
And without denying one’s own early cynicism , its also completely wrong to call T20 a parody, caricature or clone of the game. As we’ve said before , there are always those that will crucify themselves between regret of the past and fear of the future. Understanding the value of every delivery is an intensification of the game rather than a dilution of it. Striving to maximise returns and cut down errors from the word go is placing a big premia on performance.
As far as the IPL itself is concerned, the criticisms are many but the targets keep moving so they’re hardly easy to address. Is it the amount of money ? The source of the money ? Bollywood ? The T20 format ? Lalit Modi ? Loyalty ? Royalty ? Media ? All of the above ? There must be something right, surely.
How different are these concerns from the ones that were doubtless raised when Kerry Packer surfaced ? How long did that last and how much good did it bring ? These are questions which we are in the process of answering every passing day.
Somewhere the “off the field” entertainment, which is causing so much unrest amongst the connoisseurs, will find the right balance with the on field skills but as of now its doing the same job that coloured clothing, black sightscreens and their ilk were doing in the 1970s. And getting as much attention at the expense of the cricket from fans and critics alike.
Somewhere we’ll begin to realise and accept that Brendon McCullum’s 150 in 20 overs (an astonishingly good score for a team at the 20 over mark in the one day game) was an act of great cricketing skill and while the element of orthodoxy was missing , it was perhaps telling that Mike Hussey of the phenomenal Test average nearly matched it soon enough. For those that say that this does not adequately test enough to separate the best from the rest, its equally significant that at the time of writing , these two share the top batting slots with cricketers such as Matt Hayden , Sangakarra, Adam Gilchrist, Andrew Symonds and MS Dhoni. Isnt it a vindication of skill that 4 of those 7 are Australians and come from a team that are thrice World Champions ? Haven’t Glenn Mcgrath and Mohd Asif shown their class ? Haven’t the leadership bluffs of the weaker captains been called?
Another concern is that it pays so much that it’ll destroy the first class structure – already moribund in terms of spectator interest. And there are two aspects of this – money and format.
Money first : These are professional sportsmen and if they bring in the revenue, a share of that to them is really a matter of justice. How else would we like it to be ? But spectator interest for the longer version first class games is a concept that struggles because of the premium that we now place on our time. The ICC bravely tried a “Us and Them” Super Test as a concept and it failed from the start and thats because the problem isn’t one of quality, which is high enough to justify interest – but of time.
Perhaps the format itself will go through changes. Maybe we’ll now have 4 innings of 25 overs each instead of 2 innings of 50 in a One day game to get a hybrid of sorts. But either way, the better cricketers will adjust. Sachin Tendulkar was born about the same time that limited overs internationals were. As were Rahul Dravid, Saurav Ganguly, Shane Warne and Glenn Mcgrath. They grew with, and indeed helped grow One Day internationals – but so seamless was their transition that its unlikely that any of them will be considered as having harmed Test cricket. If anything, they have embellished it.
And the performances will undoubtedly improve. And the IPL – and maybe other leagues of value – will contribute to them because they remove barriers to learning that geography created. First class cricketers and newbie internationals are rubbing shoulders with all-time greats. Getting encouragement, strategising along , playing in the nets , understanding preparations, celebrating victories and analysing losses alongside and imbibing mindsets. Even seasoned players see the value in competing with and against contemporaries that national duty would not typically allow them to.
Test Cricket has survived as long as it has because it has adjusted along with the times. Its monumental oceanic presence taking in the shades and shapes of all the new streams that joined in.
Test cricket is not going to die because the highest form of theatre lives on and because the art form is constantly evolving. It’ll probably get squeezed into an increasingly niche audience but those that are willing to carve the time to watch a performance will always stay. However, if we are to make time for it , then it too must keep with the times.
“Without tradition“, said Winston Churchill, “art is a flock of sheep without a shepherd“. Then, as with all things Churchillian, he added the punch line – “Without innovation, its a corpse.”
Earlier post related to the IPL here.
Global (S)Warming …
If you’d been trapped in a time warp for a while now and haven’t noticed Asia’s growing influence in sport – virtually all sport ; well, its happening.
Rohit Brijnath, himself a symptom of this growing ascendancy, and writing now for, among others, the Hindu, the BBC and here in Singapore for the Straits Times, penned the following piece on the subject for the ST last week. Its typically balanced and invites thoughtful debate.
“There has been no call from Augusta but then I wasn’t expecting one. There are enough Brits in the field. Now if I were the only person in the country, a la China, I might get in. It’s a strange way to make up a field for a Major championship – TV rights.
– Colin Montgomerie
It seems a sound argument, for sport should not be about favours or preferences, but performance.
. . .
Walking the Talk …
Given all the media hype about the upcoming Olympics – the security surrounding the torch, Bhaichung Bhutia, Aamir Khan and Tibet; and the Indian hockey team – one question that always begs to be answered is – How many gold medals can India win at the Beijing Olympics. This is as standard a topic one does hear before the commencement of a competitive multi-country sporting event like the Asiad or the Olympics, as the real estate prices in Mumbai, as how the only difference between a first class and a second class compartment in a Virar local is that the sweat is perfumed, as how the new generation is so irresponsible, as how inflation is affecting the monthly household budget, as how the Indian middle class is not so middle any more, as Shekhar Suman laughing and arching his already arched plastic surgery related eyebrows on a comedy show. One can go on listing more standard topics of discussion but respect for space and a distinct lack of creativity forces the conclusion of the same. Most sportswriters, it is alleged, have one standard piece, which is submitted to editors. The year and the location are variable. Everything else is unchanged. Death, taxes, people falling in borewells (how do people manage to do this is beyond one’s imagination) and these Olympic related pieces are the only certainties in an otherwise subprime hit uncertain world. The article generally starts with – “India’s chances of securing a medal are as good as L.K. Adwani embracing Bardhan. —— our only hope is the hockey team —– what we need is a complete overhaul of the system —- the administrators need to be made accountable —- everything will be forgotten till the next Olympics — we suck’. Period. One hopes that the editor edits the hockey bit this time around.
It is whispered (now one understands why that game is called Chinese whispers) by informed sources within the CPM (After consultation with the Chinese delegation which attended some annual meet some where in India) that 4 honorary gold medals are assured by the hosts as a prize for the CPM’s dogged support. Yechury wins one for blabbering, Karath wins one for intransigence, Bardhan wins one for existence and Buddhadeb wins one for his singurar, oops, singular focus on Industry. Any other Olympic medal 2008 is as distant a dream as Leander lauding Mahesh, as the shooters getting ammo, as the archers getting arrows, as weight lifters going without drugs, as distant as the swimmers coming 7th in heats (there are 8 lanes, remember?), as the boxers landing a punch.
Bollywood has a solution for all these problems. If you can’t beat them, make a movie. We have seen ‘Lagaan’, ‘Chak De India’ and ‘Dan Danandan Goal’ transform the normally dour, humourless common man into an aggressive, patriotic and adrenaline charged animal. These movies confirm our suspicion as a nation that we are slated for ‘greatness’ in sport.
(The first rider to the clubbing of these 3 movies is that in no way is one trying to equate the movie quality from a movie critic’s perspective).One common thread that runs across all these movies is the nature of sport involved. Cricket, hockey and football are all team sports. By the inherent nature of a team sport, there will be a lot of potential to show contrasts, underlying tensions and the spirit of camaraderie. There is always a ‘win at all costs’ loathsome opponent who is the hands down favourite. (To be fair though, Chak De didn’t delve into this caricature). One has seen enough Hollywood back-from-the-brink, David-beats-Goliath, feel-good sports movies. But the audience reaction to their Indian movie counterparts is way more enthusiastic. Just as in any Hollywood action movie, the entire room (mostly full of army men) gets up and claps at the end to cheer the hero for services rendered, at all the multiplexes one visited the mood was as jubilant. Every goal was cheered, every wicket celebrated. How one wished this was a real life event. One has watched all these movies in a cinema hall and the rousing audience response to the underdog’s (read India) victory has set off some introspection.
We, as a nation have been witness to very few sporting achievements since independence – but that was acceptable a decade back. We ourselves had very low expectations. A champion was celebrated by the nation but winning wasn’t every thing. We were an emerging economy with very little to show for our 50 odd years of freedom. The 21st century has brought a booming economy and a burgeoning middle class. Serious problems still exist but there is a new spring in the step of the nation. The biggest change that has come about is the one in attitude. The country exudes self confidence (some view it as arrogance). We are not the dregs of the world any more. We don’t perceive ourselves to be inferior to anyone. But there is still this small matter of almost non-existing sporting excellence.
The advent of satellite TV opened up a whole new world to the passionate Indian sports lovers. Gone were the days of the woefully inadequate 1 hour of ‘World of Sport’ on a Sunday evening with Dr. Narottam Puri. The world’s best talent in almost every sport, be it soccer, Tennis, Formula 1, Badminton, Golf, Bowling (Sfx in Singapore, I believe is queuing up to file mental harassment claims) could be viewed with shock and awe. You name it and you get it. What the nation saw were champions at work. Mediocrity was passé. The nation wants more from its sportspeople. Just like the famous cola tagline of yesteryears (which incidentally is creatively borrowed from a Bengali song). India wants her sporting heroes and she wants them quick. The one glaring problem in this ambition is that the world has moved too far ahead and India is playing catch up. The Milkha Singh record was broken only a few years back. Our FIFA world ranking is in mid 100’s. We have one player in the Top 50 in Tennis. Sporting underachievement rules.
There’s enough ‘respected’ opinion out there on how to tackle the problem. Heartfelt angst is poured out in articles and pieces about the pathetic condition of Indian sport. Well meaning advice is freely circulated to get rid of the ailments. Administrators are lambasted, the ‘system’ is blamed and a new beginning is advocated. Talking to a friend, who was one of the top TT players of the country, one realised the challenges faced by any budding talent. Matches were played on Badminton courts, there was little or no monetary aid, facilities were non existent and there was no future financial security. Many will say that this is a common story in our country and one would tend to agree with it. (Today she is happily married and settled.) But what hurts is to see talent go to waste. This was about 8 years ago – and what is perhaps typical and what one must realise, is that the biggest reason for her to stop playing was that parental suport existed to a certain stage, but not beyond. Sport as a ‘pastime’ was fine but not at the cost of one’s ‘career’.
All this finally brings one to the moot point. Should we as individuals keep on moaning and ranting about the obvious problems? The problems always lie externally. The ‘system’ is the soft target. The oft cited villain. Is one’s responsibility to the cause fulfilled by writing caustic articles on the state of affairs? Or can one make a small but significant contribution to the sports culture of the country. Can one build a sports culture?
The point about the burgeoning middle class and new found confidence, made earlier in the piece was not a random one (readers may assume that all others were). If one pledges to make one’s kids play at least 2-3 sports and whole-heartedly support the kids’ progress in case of any visible signs of talent, then that can be construed as a good start. There will be years of blood, tears and perseverance that will be needed to attain any decent level. There will be disappointments along the way. Education might have to be given a back seat. A lot of sacrifices will have to be made (both by the kid and the parents). One tends to agree that as an individual, one can hardly try to cleanse the mess in team sports like Hockey. Because the mechanics of a team sport work in a way such that no one player can control/change the system and thereby the destiny of the team. But individual sport is where one sees a ray of hope. As mentioned in an earlier post, the player controls his/her destiny.
If one looks at the rare success stories of Indian sport, excluding cricket, most games where we have excelled have been games which can be afforded by the middle/ upper middle class and some facilities were available. Golf, Tennis, Chess, Billiards, Snooker and Shooting, to name a few. Waiting for the government and/or various associations to come up with radical and fundamental changes is too much to expect .
A better way is to contribute to the story by deeds and actions rather than mere words.
A lot of things have been left unsaid in this piece. And of course, this is only the tip of the proverbial (albeit non melting) iceberg.
Maybe one can start by taking a look at the following -
The Special Olympics oath is:
“Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.”
These words were spoken by Roman gladiators as they entered the arena, facing the greatest battle of their lives.
We are too !
Posted by Rahul
And Miles To Go …
This is the best of times. That was the worst of times.
Indian cricket had let the nerves get the better of them. Pragmatically, winning the World Cup had been a fanciful dream – but a shock first round exit was an unjust blow. As those seniors sat looking into the distance, disconsolate and depressed, tied between the pain of shattered dreams and the fear of the reaction and that picture flashed across our eyes, the mood was a dark shade of grey.
A million theories bloomed. Money was the root of all evil. It was all those sponsors and their ads and the clauses therein. Guru Greg was the one to blame. Not enough practice. Too much practice. Change the coach. Change the captain. Change the team. Change the mindset. Drop those egotistical has-beens; for they never will be again. Bring on an effigy. (For the not so faint hearted a house was better). Committees were formed. Former captain’s opinions sought. Selection committees were slammed. Gag orders were issued. Conspiracy theories floated. All of the above.
Inspiration, it seemed, could only come from imagination.
It was at such a time, a year ago (to the day), that this blog was born.
In hindsight, things have moved swiftly. Partly because so much has happened.
First, a coach was fired and a captain retained. Then shortlists for a replacement started floating around. Since the choices were few and the expectations (as always) high, an interim manager-cum-coach was appointed for a series against the minnows.
Even as normal breathing was restored, a couple of seniors were “rested”. Gasps resumed. We won what was partly a grudge series (this was after all, Bangladesh, that had gotten us out of the World Cup), but it was significant for many other reasons. Ravi Shastri (manager cum coach) and co decided that the frontrunner for the coach job, Dav Whatmore was not the man for the job anymore. Youngsters gained confidence and the seeds of a good season without a few seniors were sown. The country’s mood improved but this was not the real thing.
Back home, the BCCI clearly trying to slow things down and let the nerves settle had its own set of battles to wage. Subhash Chandra had floated the idea of his own parallel cricket league and a number of top flight cricketers were being linked with it. The BCCI reacted with all the grace of a monopolist. Everyone associated with the Indian Cricket League was banned and even if they had once won India a World Cup, their pensions suspended. Elsewhere, the omnipresent committee offered the coach job to Graham Ford, who having been a players choice and having been spoken with earlier and having edged out a largely symbolic John Emburey, decided to stay with Kent rather than become Superman. None of this was cricket.
Come the second half of the year, things were to get busy on the field. For a triseries in Ireland and the ensuing England tour, India had a new vice captain (its nth) and somewhat surprisingly his name was Mahendra Singh Dhoni. With a Twenty/20 World Cup to follow, it seemed like the selectors were in the mood to experiment.
India won the tri-series beating South Africa and Ireland and headed to England where they had not won since 1986. It was somewhere here that Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid and Saurav Ganguly announced that they would not be available for the Twenty/20 World Cup. It would prove to be an important development.
The rain helped India through a tricky situation at Lords but after that it was an Indian Summer in England. A first Test series win in over twenty years was followed by a 7 match ODI series. 3 all and one to the umpires, in our opinion. We should have won that but the mood was improving and the confidence growing and a far cry from the World Cup barely 5 months ago.
A young bunch under MS Dhoni went to South Africa to represent India at the ICC Twenty/20 World Cup. India had played one T20 game before this. The team had a number of “yoohoo, who-you’s”. Two cricket superpowers that had been humiliated and brought to their knees at the One Day World Cup met in the finals. India had already beaten Pakistan once (with a bowler shootout) in the early rounds. The format itself was new to audiences in the subcontinent and much skepticism was countered the best way possible. India beat England, South Africa and Australia on the way to the finals. En route Yuvraj Singh got Stuart Broad for six sixes in an over. And a 12 ball fifty. In the finals, the old neighbours met again in a match that would ensure that Twenty20 was the next big money making machine. 3 hours after it all began, India cradled cricket’s latest child. MS Dhoni was king. For many, what that win represented to India and the dreams it ignited would prove to be a life changing event a few months down the road.
Meanwhile in India, having led India to amongst its greatest Test victories in England, Rahul Dravid resigned captaincy. He did not offer any public reasons. The BCCI unveiled the Indian Premier League with the approval of most cricket boards (or most of the important ones anyway).
India wrestled with the captaincy conundrum. Sachin Tendulkar, the only logical choice for both forms of the game turned it down and that opened the door for India’s first venture into split captaincy. It was too early for Dhoni to be captain for the Test series (particularly when the upcoming ones were Pakistan at home and Australia away). Anil Kumble had retired from the one day form of the game after the World Cup and (considered then largely a no-choice compromise candidate) was chosen as Test captain.
Australia visited for a short series. But the events on and off the field were to have far reaching consequences. The younger, brasher fringe of the team chose to be raucously aggressive. And announce it. Andrew Symonds and the racism saga blew up even as he expressed distaste at the country’s T20 World Cup celebrations. Equally importantly though, Australia won and won convincingly. And though some of the seniors performed, it was clear, to Dhoni anyway, that to be competitive India needed to improve at least two areas significantly. Running between the wickets and fielding.
Pakistan visited but there was none of the brouhaha that surrounds a Indo-Pak series. Too much of a good thing ? India won and the series finished just in time for India to squeeze into Australia before the crowds gathered for the Boxing Day Test at the MCG. All this while, (since the Bangladesh series) India had been playing without a fulltime coach. Lalchand Rajput had been the caretaker for the most part and Robin Singh and Venky Prasad had cabinet rank positions. Just before the departure to Australia, India appointed Gary Kirsten. But he wouldnt be part of the Australian epic. (Guest appearance notwithstanding).
India were creamed in Melbourne but it was Sydney that would shape things. India lost their way when they should not have to go 0-2 down but the game had it all. Cricketing brilliance from a few , umpiring controversies, an (lets be polite) inefficient match referee, racism charges, dubious appeals, short fused post match conferences and Australia had won 16 Tests in a row. The enormity of it all was only dwarfed by the jingoism that ensued. Tour pullouts, BCCI appeals, ICC interference, an Umpire dropping being dropped and with lots of things shoved under the carpet, somehow the tour went on.
On we went to Perth and the Australian stronghold for Ricky Ponting’s men to grab their 17th victory in a row and history along with it. Anil Kumble’s men though, had other ideas and for the second time Australia were stopped in their tracks at 16. Given the background of events, it would rank as amongst India’s greatest Test wins. And though India lost the series after the drawn Adelaide test, Sydney and Perth represented a possible momentum shift in matters cricketing.
On the evening after the Perth victory, the selectors announced the team for the CB series. Absent were Rahul Dravid and Saurav Ganguly. The decisions, we were told, had been as much acceding to Dhoni’s request as purely selectorial. Dada’s 1200+ runs in the year gone by were not enough for him to negate the premium Dhoni placed on young legs. Sachin Tendulkar was the only one from the “senior” brigade. The last man standing. India was to contest the last triseries in Australia with a bunch of young upstarts with nothing to lose.
Dhoni’s men boys won – guided to the finish line by youth, exuberance, fearlessness and Sachin Tendulkar. A straight sets victory was, for many, vindication of the summer’s torment. For Dhoni and Tendulkar , it was simply vindication.
And so here we stand today. One year on. The cause of the gloom a year back is considered addressed. India have beaten the World Champions and the Runners Up in ODIs. And won the Twenty20 World Cup. They’ve changed the coach. They have new captains and a new mindset. They’ve won the Under19 World Cup (under Dav Whatmore – now a NCA coach as Guru Greg sets up a state-of-the-art academy to nurture youth) and a Test series in frontiers long considered unassailable. There is a power shift thats sending tremors across the cricket world as the BCCI goes from strength to strength. Money is hardly the root of evil anymore. In fact, with the IPL and with Ricky Ponting at bargain prices and Sachin, Dada, Dravid and Dhoni with iconic millions, nothing could be more virtuous.
Thats been the year that we invested in a year ago. To the day. It would probably suffice to say that for a supporter, its been a truly gratifying return. Results have, after all, defied imagination. The darkness following the World Cup has reinforced what we believed in. Much of what we see today would probably not have happened if the World Cup had not been a flushout. Its always ok in the end. If its not ok, its not the end.
Most importantly its been enormously satisfying because of the number of friends that have been made. Along the way we have “met” a few idols who are not idols anymore. Just more believeable heroes.
And while we’ve diversified into occassionally writing about other sport- most importantly we’ve learnt to appreciate sport more than ever.
What could be better.
Cheers and Thank you all.
The “cocking a snook” thing ….
This is an excerpt from Geet Sethi’s wonderful book Success vs Joy. An unassuming book with lots of depth – much like the man.
On being highly strung.
There are certain sportspersons who hype themselves up with gestures, punching the air with fists and other such gesticulations, which they think will induce a rush of adrenaline. This may prove to be beneficial in highly physical and contact sports such as rugby and wrestling – but in most sports I find that this becomes a distraction rather than a means to help you focus.
What is important at the crucial stage of any activity is to be calm and composed; to be able to enjoy the moment; to be able to concentrate on the stroke, not the deal that one is negotiating or any other task. Instead of being hyped up oneself, it is imperative to remain calm, on an emotional, even keel. For that you need to focus on your breathing and be zoned-in on the present.
There are some who develop a connived hatred for their opponents, believing this will enhance their performance. They are merely fooling themselves. The whole game is about finding harmony and that elusive alignment of body, mind, and soul. This alignment cannot be discovered with a road map of hate. It can only be found with peace within and peace with the world outside.
For a performer there is no competitor. In the book of success there is, but not in the book of excellence. Competition exists only in your mind. Talent and practice can hone your skill but the discovery of excellence will come from the discovery of the self. So you have to forget the opponent and delve deep within to master your own frailties and insecurities.
In an individual sport such as golf or billiards it is easier to relate to this, but even in team sport one has to look within. Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid are two sportspersons who exemplify this introspection. I have never heard either talk about their opponents. Of course there will be exceptional, solid, and ordinary bowlers, but they don’t care who the bowlers are. For them, the bat is in their hands alone and what they do with the ball depends only on them.
Remind you of anything ?
Posted by Rahul
Getting an earful …
Evander Holyfield won his title but lost a part of his ear to Mike Tyson’s hunger.
Photograph from Sports Illustrated by Jed Jacobsohn
So Where The Bloody Hell Are You …
The finals of the CB series had to be between these two teams. There was a fatalistic predictability that it would be. Anything else would have been inadequate. Thats where the predictability ended.
Mahendra Singh Dhoni’s side is the new India. When they were chosen and others sidestepped, the justifiable feeling among many was that the move was too drastic. You don’t really throw nobodys newbies into the deep end. Not that MSD seems to think in that kind of manner at all. The nobody-upstart-contender-winner-champion transition seemed ingrained somewhere As each passing gamble started coming off, you had to admire the man for his leadership and his troops for their guts and gumption. Battles don’t come tougher than this.
And much as India looked starved for action, Ricky Ponting’s demeanour (inspite of a series of wins) suggested that they’d rather this ended real quick. Dogged by controversy, he’s called it the most frustrating experience of his 12 year career. Hardly the best way to motivate troops.
And that has been the difference.
So we’ve lasted the summer. And proved the critics wrong. We’ve taken the abuse and (in some regrettable cases) given back as well as we have received. And we’ve adjusted to alien conditions. And converted inexperience to an advantage of fearlessness. We have drawn strength from the controversy. And we have been the better behaved team on and off the field. And when some have not had a good day, others have shouldered the burden. Importantly, we’ve played better cricket.
And much of this, we’ve probably learnt from you.
P.S. The original (quite brilliant) Aussie tourism campaign.
The colour of money …
October 14, 2007 – About 4 months ago – This was Andrew Symonds.
The feeling has come from the carry-on that surrounded India’s Twenty20 World Cup win. When we got here, it was just everywhere.
Our blokes thought it was over the top. Some of the things their players have been given and the way they are treated, it’s like they are rock stars and princes.
The Indian government gave them a heap of money. Yuvraj Singh got a Porsche. Blokes are getting houses and blocks of land.
…
Two days before our first game, the Indian players didn’t train because their guys were shooting commercials.
It’s been irritating because it’s been in our face. We see them on television every day.
…
PLAYING over here is so hostile. This is my fifth time here and the key is you can’t let the language barrier and the conditions get on top of you. The day-to-day stuff can wear you down and cricket can suddenly become a chore.
A few weeks before that, his views on Twenty20 :
It’s a frustrating game because you can be beaten by the lesser sides and they have to be good for a shorter period of time to beat you.
At least in one-day cricket you get the chance to work your way back into the game if you get into trouble, the same as in Test cricket over a much longer period
There is a little bit of the whore in all of us, gentlemen. What is your price?”
Kerry Packer’s words to the Australian Cricket Board in 1976 rang in my memory bank again yesterday.
And a few other words did too. Like – Lucky Bastard !
But then one needs to think and put this in perspective. One thing that the markets have taught me is this. They may be a lot of things – irrational , over-exuberant, over the top and even absurd – but they are never wrong. Because they exist and money guides them there. It may not be things you like, but the market is the one that shapes the reality that we must adjust to.
And yesterday, the new vision that is the Indian Premier League took a big step towards becoming a reality that we must soon accept. Clearly though, thats no easy task. For like is the case with accepting any new paradigm, there are two schools of thought. One that is willing to give it a chance (often because there are things in it in their favour) and the other bunch that crucify themselves between regret of the past and fear of the future.
The first lot is easy. It includes the money spinning BCCI, the channels that have bid for telecast rights, the owners of the franchises and most of all the professional sportsmen who will get a far larger pay cheque than they usually do and an access to the still throbbing Indian consumer market. Take the case of Andrew Symonds for instance. A few weeks after the diatribe against the crowds and frenzy in the country and just after the racism charges against Bhajji, he’s been picked as the second most valuable player. The US$1.35 million fee for what is essentially a 44 day tournament (59 matches across 8 teams) is a fantastic reward for a guy who has made some hard choices (England or Australia) and then made his mark. Despite his run-ins with many things Indian, the market has paid a price for his performance (including that man-of-the-series in October). Its probably hardly a coincidence that he’s announced hours after his bid was finalised that he would not tour Pakistan (and hence accept a pro-rata fee) even if Cricket Australia finds the security good enough for the team. For someone whose best attribute outside a cricket field was a rhyme 20 years ago at the Alliance Francaise, the offer is probably poetic justice for a career constructed without shortcuts. An opportunity too good to miss.
There are others as well. The Pathan brothers with $1.40 million between them are secure with Irfan’s rediscovery as an all-rounder of merit helping him with a large purse while Yusuf Pathan, with one international game and $ 475,000 (against $400,000 for Ricky Ponting) probably typifies the power of the brand in India.
From the player point of view, is it lopsided ? Sure it is. Yusuf Pathan being paid a bigger fee than VVS Laxman, and between him and Mohd Kaif (not even a ODI contender at the moment in team India) making the Jaipur franchise US$1.15 million lighter is one of many signs that there were teething problems aplenty with the format of an auction. But from here things enter a transfer market two years down the line. And thats when the prices will find their new and probably progressively more correct levels. Thats just the way it is. What it has done though is that its allowed “market forces” into the game. Its a toe-hold but its probably the most important development of all. Players are graded by their respective boards and were graded as they came up for the auction yesterday, but what followed has been an independent assessment of relative merits that has finally been the arbiter. Whether or not its been correct is immaterial, in my opinion. The fact is that given the format and the availability of the players in question, a price has been decided in an open market. Its a big step forward.
As far as the doubters go – and there are many – the most basic root problem is the format of the game itself. Twenty20 skeptics view it as a major corruption of the game. Call it cricket snobbery if you will or simply a case of a classical musician scorning at a rap artist. Where’s the room for strategy and perseverence, say the Test lovers. Why corrupt chess into a game of snakes and ladders, they scream. But why should you not have entertainment every delivery, claim the T20 believers. Why should the ability to score off every delivery and bowl six different deliveries be prized any less, they ask. Any side of the fence you choose, the fact remains that there is a growing new audience for the game. It includes, but is not limited to, people who like reality shows and are willing to go for a three hour game complete with entertainment and sport. Thats the untapped market that the BCCI targets. If they don’t (fat chance), somebody else will.
As far as corruption of the game goes, thats open to debate. The same doubters probably existed when the ODI was born as well. Of course, it does not naturally follow that one can constantly keep abridging the game using that excuse. But its also true that a number of skills which were considered sacrilege produce of the ODI format are now virtually indispensable in Test sides. With that evolution has come a more result-prone Test arena. The number of high quality Tests, the rate of scoring , the crowds at venues are all higher than they were a couple of decades ago.
The other argument that has been put forward has been about the lack of class in yesterday’s proceedings and the contrast against india’s poverty. Greg Baum even goes far as to call the feeling “bilious”. Really ? As opposed to what though? Kerry Packer’s question to the Australian Cricket Board? And this poverty argument is, to use his words, the “usual, tired” one. Why does everyone turn socialist when India displays wealth ? Can we not pay Ronaldo and Ronaldinho and Barrichello a few million because of the poverty in Brazil. Should we just scrap the NBA and the World Series Baseball since the US of A is running the kind of deficits which are crippling world economies ?
The BCCI are taking the cricketer’s pay packet to the next level. And they are taking local talent and youngsters along. And they have promised the ICC that they will not interfere with the (ill conceived) FTP but will request that the IPL be fitted in. In April and May when it interferes with as little as possible. If possible. In any case, national duty takes precedence and cannot be compromised since no cricketer can participate (till 2 years after retirement) without a clearance from their respective Boards.
Of course, a lot remains to be seen and these are early days as far as the success of the tournament and the format goes. But its a beginning. And deserves support.
Time will tell if its just revolutionary, or evolutionary as well.
The Sanity of being Sania …
At the Hopman Cup , Sania Mirza ran into more trouble. This time it was a lawsuit trigger-happy gent who thought that a 2D photo was reason enough to question her commitment to the nation – this while she was playing for the country just ahead of the Australian Open.
And then, a 3rd-Round-exit-in-straight-sets at the Aussie Open later – she was out. She didnt cause any upset but she was upset. Or so she says. And back after the Open , she’s refused to play at the Bangalore Open and says she would rather not play in India for a while anyway.
Reactions are diverse. But basically any of those worth listening to are saying exactly the same thing – that Sania Mirza needs to buckle up and play.
This is from a dear friend Rahul Namjoshi and are his views on the subject.
What has she done in her life? Number 29? 4th round of the US open in 2005? So what are we talking about? At the age of 21, the world has recently seen some 6 women Tennis grand slam champions aged below 21. Maybe many more than 5. I can count Steffi, Gabriella, Monica, Martina Hingis, Venus, Serena, Maria. So can anybody reach the peak post 23? I think not. Are we talking about some great victories in a grand slam? Or are we talking about Tim Henman at the Wimbledon? He never won Wimbledon.
Are we talking about some great upsets? I believe not. I have never played Tennis in my life. My father-in-law has. He avers about Sania. He actually called me up to say how great a fight she gave Venus in the 3rd round of the Australian open 2008. She lost in 2 straight sets? So? Whatever the girl says, we don’t expect too many things from her. Do we? Quarter finals is good enough. Are we even thinking of a brighter future? Say winning the US open finals? We are not. We aren’t even thinking of a semi final berth here. And yet, we as Indians, hero worship her. We think she can deliver great things in life because others say so. What is the down side in being a Mirza. If you don’t perform, you are not hauled over the coals like the cricketers, if you do, you will be termed a teen sensation.
The problem here is that everybody says how a step motherly treatment is given to every sport other than cricket. Take a MSD, take a Kaif, remember the vandalism that they suffered in the wake of the World cup. The day they modelled for an advertisement, they were condemned. Every one thought they were taking too much money and that they didn’t deserve to be so well off. Sania has been the youth icon here. She has done some 10 ads over the last 2 months ( I might be wrong in the number).
Nike said ‘You don’t win silver, you lose gold’. I want to make my daughter a tennis player. Do I want her to emulate Sania? A vehement NO is the answer. Because I want to make my daughter the best in the world. Not number 29.A P T Usha was the best athelete that was ever was produced by this country. Maybe a Shiney Abraham as well, or maybe an Anju Bobby George. But these ladies never wore a short skirt. Nor were they good looking. So the fundamental question is, do we actually behave like normal citizens? When it comes to cricket, everyone has an opinion. Everyone talks of a SRT’s Tiranga cake, everyone talks of a Kaif’s burnt house. How did these guys take it? How did SRT take it when his house was attacked by some cricket vandals. And how does a Buddha take it? When Buddha smiles, it drives one to a nuclear armistice.
And then, a wonderful piece with well meant advice asking her to manage her own world, in this morning’s Hindu comes from Rohit Brijnath. Reproduced here in full.
A girl sweats. Cramps. Sits. Puts up tired feet that have been running for India. A flag is close by, as flags often are at sports events, and this one is Indian.
A photographer takes a picture seemingly from a clever angle that juxtaposes feet and flag. A case is filed in court. Someone, dutifully, alerts the media. And this non-issue becomes a story. Welcome to Sania Mirza’s world.
As this story crosses oceans, and questions come like a storm, and that sly picture winks from front pages, it’s worth wondering: what sort of mental state did Sania take into the Australian Open? How do you function as an athlete when you’re accused of disrespecting a flag you play for? Is it possible that tennis can be fun when the discussion about you concerns not serves but short skirts, not lobs but leg showing, not footspeed but flag kicking.
That Sania has managed to get to No.29 in the midst of all seems pretty good, wouldn’t you think?
It’s sad that a competitor, who recently hauled her injured, bandaged self onto court to help win a key Fed Cup match, has to keep saying “I’m a proud Indian.” It’s unfortunate that in India’s small tennis fraternity, older men who have no idea what it means to be seen as young, female, gifted, glamorous, a top 30 player and role model, felt the need to criticise her decision to skip the Bangalore tournament. Even if part of the reason was some appearance fee dust-up, Sania is saying the pressure is throttling and she deserves listening to.
It’s not that Sania doesn’t receive support, or appreciation, or sponsors in India; if anything, she is lucky. When she performs in foreign lands, sometimes it sounds as if she is at home, embraced as she is by Indians, local and vocal. The media has celebrated her, but in a new world there seems a fascination not so much with Mirza the player but Sania the celebrity.
The sweaty girl and her daily struggle is a nice story; the short-skirted woman who annoys some is better news. The real story has been overtaken by the superficial one.
Consequently Sania plays under a pressure that is occasionally obscene, yet not unique. Her world is exaggerated, full of over-praise and rude distractions, yet her world will not alter: those media that are salacious will remain; and controversies will arrive from nowhere. She is allowed to feel sorry for herself, yet must arm herself with the knowledge that others have walked harder roads to glory.
History is blessed with tales of athletes who have defied adversity. The hardy Algerian, Hassiba Boulmerka, was hit with rocks when she trained, denounced for wearing shorts, and had a special security team shadow her during the Barcelona Games. But she ran, all the way to Olympic gold.
Black athletes growing up in America once faced a hardship that challenges the imagination. Jesse Owens could not eat with white team-mates in restaurants, but won four gold medals. Boxer Joe Louis was instructed by his handlers, when you beat a white opponent, don’t ever smile. Men spat on Jackie Robinson’s shoes and sent him death threats when he broke the colour barrier in baseball, but he prevailed.
Athletes swallow pressure, channel their rage, shrug off insults, hold onto their pride, enjoy whatever they have. It is what Sania, who has had it easier than these athletes, has done so far, and will have to keep doing.
She has played for India (and proudly), and will continue to do so, but on the tour she should remember what Tiger Woods said last week: “You don’t win for anyone else. You do it for yourself and your family. That’s who you play for. You don’t play for pleasing the media, the sponsors, the fans or anything like that.”
Sania’s career is going to be testing, she must speak out about it boldly, but then she must soldier on. Already she is armed with a mean forehand. Now all she requires is a coat of stoicism.
The idea here is not to compare reactions (although thats important) but to remind Sania Mirza that there are miles to go. Hardly anyone with her limited achievements has been as financially secure as early as she has. Being a Kournikova is not what this is about. The inspiration lies in stories such as Monica Seles’. And that of Jennifer Capriati who was a Semifinalist at the French, US Open and Wimbledon and won an Olympic Gold by the time she was 16. Lost it all (and then some) at 18 but came back to be World number 1 and thrice Grand Slam winner at 26.
Sania Mirza has always had the support. The question is does she have it in her to lift her game and ignore distractions like all those that support her do.
The eerie sound of silence…
The silence on the blog has not been because one has been divorced from sport. Or too busy. Or too indifferent.
Truth is that the events surrounding the cricket in Australia have been numbing. And tiresome. Its not what one watches sport for and altho have spent a huge amount of time discussing the events and their ramifications, the feeling has usually been one of “running on empty”.
Sport isnt meant to be like that. One watches because it inspires. And though there have been enough and more uplifting moments in the cricket and elsewhere in sport , for some reason it was the controversy that remained top of mind.
That said, a great big thanks to the number of people that kept visiting. And those that prompted a post.
I’ve started so I’ll finish … and continue.
The MCG and its history (and Geography) – and – All good things to those who bait.
The day one had spent weeks and months waiting for finally arrived this morning.
Boxing Day at the MCG. You can click on the link to study its rich history but the more obvious parts are that the first ever Test match was held here in 1877 when Australia beat England by 45 runs. And then it was here that the Centenary Test was held where Australia beat England again. By 45 runs. The MCG is also the place where the first ever one day international was held. And the 1992 World Cup Finals. Oh and yes, the 1956 Olympics.
Besides which, it has a long history. Its a grand kinda ground. The locals call it “The G”. I’ve never been there myself but people who have say that its a great experience. Madonna performed at the ground in 1993. She dubbed it “the G spot”…
This here is a first hand picture of the Keith Miller statue at the G. Its taken by David McMahon, who is a Melbourne based journalist (and was part of that special crew that used to be Sportsworld when I was growing up), is justifiably one of the better read bloggers out there and certainly the most prolific, an internationally published photographer and author of the bestselling Vegemite Vindaloo. (Thanks, David !)
Anyway, it was at the G that the real Test series started today. And so back to regular blogging it is.
First things first, India’s squad for the tour includes Sehwag. One can only assume that the rationale was of bringing guns rather than knives to the gunfight. The fact that Sehwag’s not playing (and will probably only play if someone has injury or serious loss of form) implies that there is inherent doubt of whether the gun’s loaded in the first place. So Rahul Dravid, (yeah that guy who won us the last Test series – our first victory over England in England since 1986) will now open (“he doesnt have a choice” said his skipper only half joking) with Wasim Jaffer.
And so, India bat deep with the top 8 with Test 100s (it could have been 9 had they taken the safer route with Irfan Pathan). The safer option would have been forgiven if one looked at the lack of preparation, the washed out game against Victoria, the fact that Australia had won all 14 of their last Test matches and all 8 of the last games played at the G.
India lost the toss, and the first session even though they probably bowled as well as they bowled at any time of the day in the first hour. But for a while now, the Indian bowling attack’s been underrated in Tests and winning two sessions on Day one of a series is a great start.
One series and a day after he became captain, I’m still unclear in my head about Anil Kumble’s captaincy and more often than not his first statement on getting the job comes to mind. “Better Late Than Never”. Waiting for the opponent to commit mistakes, getting into defensive mindsets early if opposition partnerships develop and such. And maybe thats just harsh, because as a bowler he’s decidedly more aggressive. Also, today – the opening partnership apart – the Aussies hardly got any partnerships going but that’s going to be the key in this series. How relentlessly we apply pressure.
Nevertheless, day one belonged to India. Even if the reason is that it did not belong to Australia. Or that we clawed it back from 135 for no loss.
Going ahead, India’s massive in-form batting lineup understands that 337 for 9 needs to be upped a bit because of runs conceded in the field and by the fact that we will bat last on this pitch.
Yes, Its been busy …
The markets have been kinda active and the year draws to a close and vacation starts and there’s the usual pressure and .. you know the drill ….But its not like I haven’t been watching, you know !
If you don’t believe me, read this blog.
And before you ask, the answer is “don’t ask”.
Regular blogging resumes soon.
Does anybody remember laughter …
The Million Dollar Question – Is it just me getting old fashioned or is sports really changing too fast ?
Is the modern day sportsperson chasing that dream so hard that its becoming difficult to make him the role model ? At some stage we are inherently uncomfortable with the concept of watching a sportsperson competing for just money. Or at least we like to fool ourselves into believing that there is more to it.
From a Gideon Haigh article …
On December 2, 1977 to be precise, Australian cricket lovers turning on their television sets had for the first time a choice in their bill of fare. Live from the Gabba on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation came the soothing sights and sounds of a traditional Test, the first of a series against India. Live from Melbourne’s VFL Park on Channel 9, meanwhile, came the unfamiliar images of what purported to be a revolutionary new variant on the game: a Supertest, brought to you by World Series Cricket.
The play itself, between an Australian team led by Ian Chappell and a West Indian outfit captained by Clive Lloyd, did not actually look all that different. The ball was red. The players wore white and sported caps. The Australian headgear, though, was gold not green and it was such distinctions of detail that mattered. There were no traditions here. The ground, usually the preserve of Australian rules, had been converted by the installation of a pitch grown in a greenhouse. The television coverage, rather than relying on the usual two cameras, used eight, with extensive reliance on video replays. Microphones embedded in the ground near the stumps captured the players’ grunts and the wickets’ rattle; a boundary interviewer even solicited their post-dismissal musings. Critics were already calling this a pirate enterprise: its symbol, a stylised set of black stumps partially enclosing an outsized red cricket ball, would become the game’s equivalent of the skull and crossbones.
Cricket had been cleft in twain almost six months. The first plans for WSC and the first international cricketers recruited by the agents of its impresario Kerry Packer, had been revealed in April 1977. The principles seemingly at stake – love of country versus love of money, a century of tradition versus spontaneous spectacle – had been endlessly debated. But until that December morn, the rivalry’s implications had been obscure. Packer’s original objective, indeed, had not been to introduce an alternative brand of cricket at all. His eyes were on the prize of exclusive Test match broadcasting rights in Australia; WSC was merely a roundabout way of bending the Australian Cricket Board to his will. Now it was a twin-match, twin-tour, twin-channel reality. “The public will decide,” pronounced the editor of Wisden, Norman Preston.
The public issued what looked like a decision that very day. Where there were no traditions, there were also no spectators. While about 12,000 attended the Brisbane Test, fewer than 500 were scattered round the concrete tiers of VFL Park where space could be found for 80,000. Packer had more stars than Broadway: the Chappells, Dennis Lillee, Rod Marsh, Doug Walters, David Hookes versus Lloyd, Viv Richards, Joel Garner, Michael Holding, Andy Roberts, with Tony Greig, Barry Richards, Mike Procter, Imran Khan and Asif Iqbal to come. But for what, punters pondered, were they playing? It clearly was not for their country. It looked, uncomfortably, as though they might be playing for money.
The concept of the professional sportsperson in itself, is not that bad at all, of course. Its the accompanying symptoms that its developed and continues to move towards that are worrying. Over the past few weeks various sports have been beset with allegations of match-fixing & tanking of matches by a top 5 player, poisoning charges during a Davis Cup match, cocaine charges , spy scandals in motorsport, violence, institutionalized cheating, bribery, steroid use and we’re only just skimming the surface. When one starts getting into things which are considered “part and parcel” of modern sport – sledging, gamesmanship and the like – thats a whole different ball game.
Demonstrative of the problem is this. Etymologically, the word Amateur has its roots in love. But generally in sports now, anything amateurish is something lacking mastery of essentials – usually crude and with lots of blunders. Thats how far we have come from it all.
Professionalism is good. Amateurism is bad. So much that it almost gets depressing.
And then, when all seems lost, a couple of beacons shine through.
Sachin Tendulkar. 18 years after the age of 16 when he first appeared (and surely now its not about the money) is yet playing cricket that is prodigious and still takes your breath away. For the love of it he says.
Roger Federer – and the numbers don’t lie – had his worst year since 2003 and his best. Try and figure that out. But as the year ended, this much remained undisputed – as of now his only serious opponent is history. And when he’d won the Masters in Shanghai yesterday he said, he hoped his performance had helped people believe in the sport like he did.
Just two champions who do it their way. Amateurs !
How’s A Rest like an Emergency …
The good news is that we have some cricket again ! And by that I mean international cricket – the kind that seems to keep our hyperactive minds occupied. Because no matter how much domestic cricket we play (and there has been and continues to be a fair share), it does not seem to stop conspiracy theories and other notions flying around blogosphere and the press. (As someone once said, the popularity of conspiracy theories is explained by people’s desire to believe that there is someone out there that knows what they are doing.)
So we’re hopefully done with the racism thing. And this blog does not think those crowds were racist. Yes, they probably taunted Andrew Symonds and crowd behaviour in India is something that we have written about in the past but as far as race and colour go, India’s largely been very tolerant and I don’t think this time was time was any different. Most people I know remember the 1985 World Championship of Cricket final at the MCG against Pakistan and a huge banner which said “BUS DRIVERS vs TRAM CONDUCTORS” and most people shrugged it off as humour which tried to racially stereotype then and will do the same now. That said, its purely an opinion and anybody that intends it otherwise needs to be shown the door and a lot else. As an example, Dean Jones, after whats passed off as an indiscrete remark on television, was brought back on Indian television as a guest for the World Cup while a bunch of kids who made monkey faces in the crowd were booked for jail. Does that make sense ?
Anyway, like I was saying , the good news is that we had some international cricket again.
India vs Pakistan is always unique no matter how much recently increased frequency has reduced the drama. The intensity (and profitability) of this unique sporting rivalry derives as much from the common cricket culture that unites the two countries as from the history that divides them. And each time it finds some new aura to add to the spectacle. The last time they had met was in the final of the Twenty20 Worldcup which in turn had the ignominy of the first round exit of the ODI Worldcup as its backdrop.
Yesterday, with a number of selection issues hogging the limelight, MS Dhoni walked in for the toss. A long overdue haircut was probably not the only reason that his head probably still felt lighter than his younger counterpart. Shoaib Malik, a year younger, captain of a Pakistan team with people a lot senior and some, probably a lot less willing to toe the line is likely facing an emergency every time he chairs a team meeting. It comes with the job.
Pakistan won the toss, batted. For the first time that I can remember, Dhoni expressed doubt. ‘I have no idea how it’ll play in the second half of the day , besides which , the light fails really fast from about 4 pm in Gauhati so we’ll just have to see’ he said.
Pakistan’s start was swift but that was partly because of Zaheer Khan. This might be down to overwork, but given the importance we seem to be paying to form, its important that everybody be judged by the same standards. Zaheer Khan’s last 20 ODI games have got India 20 wickets at 43.15 with a best of 2/32 against Bangladesh. In the series against Australia, he had 8 wickets in 7 games at 44 and an economy of 5.81. I bring up this point because those that are calling for “rest” are using the Zaheer Khan example to illustrate that it works. Well, does it ?
Harbhajan Singh and Murali Karthik (Dhoni’s choice, like he keeps reminding us) pulled in another great spell in tandem and what looked like it could be a big score ended up being a 240 to win for India inspite of a 80 from Mohd Yousoof. The key though was that apart from the times when Zaheer Khan was bowling at one end, India never looked out of control – 23 overs in the middle without a boundary tells its own story.
The Indian squad of 15 has 6 specialist bowlers, 1 all rounder, 1 wicketkeeper-batsman and of the 7 remaining batsmen – 5 are openers. So much for having professionally paid selectors. And its not like there is a dearth of middle order talent out there thats not perfoming either. Even as the match was being played, Manoj Tiwary and Suresh Raina were getting double hundreds on the stage they were performing on. Badrinath had been dropped without reason and was waiting for his turn to bat for Tamil Nadu and Rahul Dravid – well, thats a different story and worth a whole series of posts but for now, he’d gotten 40 in Karnataka’s first innings 195 and was batting at 77 unbeaten after being rested / asked to prove his form and fitness / having nothing to contribute besides batting – depending on what time of day or day of week you managed to get Dilip Vengsarkar in front of a microphone.
And so India opened with that part of the lineup which has been most stable for the most part over the last two series (leave aside Ganguly’s injury). Sachin Tendulkar came and went and it was Gautam Gambhir’s turn at 3. MS Dhoni likes the guy – and he should because Gambhir’s done really well in the Twenty20 version of the game. But Dhoni’s wrong when he says Gambhir’s in great nick and thats why he preferred him over Sehwag (who in turn was preferred over Dravid) because the one day results don’t show that. In 4 ODI games in England, Gambhir scored 113 runs at 28.5. And in the 3 games he got against the Aussies, 17 runs at 8.50. Those numbers don’t lie just as age does not.
Both Dhoni and Malik believed that Gambhir’s innings was important for the game – he got 44. And although the innings itself was wonderfully paced and full of strokes, what Malik meant was that Pakistan should have held on to the catches that Gautham Gambhir offered off succcessive balls to Shoaib Akhtar between the ‘keeper & first slip.
The idea here is not really to run down Gautam Gambhir – but to highlight that the selection policies are lopsided. He has now played 33 ODI games for India and has an average of just above 31 (sub 30 if you eliminate Scotland and Ireland and worse if you elimininate Banglandesh). So fitting him into a side with 5 opening batsmen does not make sense on the basis of ‘potential’. More maybe in the comments section of this post or another post altogether.
Dhoni came in at 4 after another Saurav Ganguly run out. This is how he explained it. “I’ve said in the past that I need someone to fit in my place at No. 6 or 7. Today we needed a left and right-hand combination. Afridi was bowling offbreaks to left-handers, and legbreaks to the right-handers. That encouraged me to promote myself.” Considering that Afridi had not bowled to right handers yet, I wonder how Dhoni knew. Hmmm.
Nevertheless, it worked and India never looked in any danger of losing. I guess its easier on the nerves losing to Australia at home than it is to South Africa.
One up. Four to Play.
You can be my wingman anytime …
And so, the chequered flag on a largely checkered F1 season.
But if its a page turner that you were looking for, if you had any doubts about F1′s viewership after Michael Schumacher drove away into the sunset, if box-office was Bernie Ecclestone’s mantra, then it really could not have gotten much better than this.
It all started even as the last season ended. Michael Schumacher’s retirement, his getting pipped at the post by Fernando Alonso (then with Renault), Juan Pablo Montoya moving to the Nascar were all events to have a bearing on this season. These were all contributory factors to the drama that followed in 2007.
Fernando Alonso, now a two time World Champion with Renault was wooed by and succumbed to the charms of Ron Dennis at Mclaren Mercedes. He wanted to show that it was not the car, but him. Champions are like that. That ego was to assert itself all season long. To be fair to Mclaren and Ron Dennis, their move was also prompted by the fact that their number one driver Kimi Raikonnen was snapped up by Ferrari as the replacement to Michael Schumacher. Not really though. Nobody replaces Schumi at Ferrari. Not yet anyway. Kimi did not arrive at Ferrari as the undisputed “number one” driver like Michael was. After all, Kimi had never won a world championship. Fernando Alonso though, double world champion arrived at Mclaren with a former test driver, in his rookie season, for a teammate.
Formula One is a largely British Sport. The commercial rights are held by the British, the President of the FIA is British, the race director and his assistant and the sport’s commissioner are all British as well. And Mclaren, of course are a British team and so when Lewis Hamilton, British, Afro-Carribean origin, all of 22 years old there was an Henman-esque aura of hope to it. But Alonso was of course, the reigning World Champion…..
The season started off quite well, but by the third race, Lewis Hamilton with three podium finishes in his first three races and with the leaderboard reading Kimi 22, Alonso 22, Lewis 22 – was already inviting comparisons with some golfer called Woods. That was Bahrain and the next race was in Spain and the heat was on the champion. Massa won his second race in a row but Lewis Hamilton stood to his right on the podium. Alonso was third and had lost the lead on his home grand prix.
Monaco was next. Alonso wins and Lewis is 2nd but under what seems like team orders, is not allowed to mount a challenge and the young kid lets it be known that he’s not happy, that he’d like to keep his chances of a title alive. A title !? The teammates are leaders and level on points.
To prove he’s not joking, and five podiums after he started racing F1, Lewis wins his first race in Canada. Alonso manages a seventh and that gives the rookie a 8 point lead into Indianapolis. In the USA, Pole position and another win sees Hamilton extend his advantage to 10 points over Alonso, who crosses the line second. Raikkonen’s fourth place sees him fall 26 points off the lead. Thats as far as he’ll ever fall back.
It was somewhere here that the whole Stepneygate saga first erupted. It turned out that there had been a whole load of espionage going on, ostensibly fuelled by Nigel Stepney’s dented ambitions at Ferrari. It was a massive saga but the gist of it suggested that Mclaren had been 780 pages of Ferrari documents including designs, fuel information etc . Even as this occupied centrestage, the races continued.
On the return to Europe from America, Ferrari regained some superiority and managed to claw back some points and after France, Britain and the Nurburgring, it stood at Lewis 70, Alonso 68 and Kimi 52. Importantly though, Mclaren had been absolved of all charges.
Maverick, Its not your flying. Its your attitude. The enemy’s dangerous but right now you are worse than the enemy. You are dangerous and foolish. You may not like the guys flying with you, they may not like you. But whose side are you on ?
Hungary was probably the turning point of the season. Fernando Alonso got pole position but during the last qualifying session , he parked just those few extra seconds ahead of Lewis Hamilton at the final pit stop. Incredibly, Hamilton complained to the stewards, and Alonso was stripped of pole position. Moved down 5 places in the grid, he finished 4th later in the race. It would prove more costly than Mclaren imagined. The next morning, Alonso went up to Ron Dennis. Alonso won’t say what was discussed but as per Ron Dennis, at some stage Fernando issued a threat to go to the FIA (subsequently retracted the same day) with evidence in the form of emails of exactly the things that Mclaren had been absolved of just a few days ago.
It left Ron no option but to call up Max Mosely at the FIA with the information. The case was reopened. A few days later, Mclaren were found guilty of espionage primarily on the basis of 300 emails and sms’ between Mclaren’s Mike Coughlan and Ferrari’s Nigel Stepney and Fernando Alonso and Pedro de la Rosa. That led to an unprecedented penalty. Apart from the biggest fine in any sport of US$ 100 million, Mclaren were docked all their constructors points in the championships. Incredibly, they were allowed to keep all their driver’s points though. A part of that was because the FIA President Max Moseley had given them a “gentleman’s word”, a sort of immunity for every word they spoke and every piece of evidence they provided – presumably against Mclaren. However, as he himself admits,
When McLaren was stripped of their constructor’s points it would have had a certain logic to also slash the drivers’ championship points. But the majority of the World Council was of different opinion.It was a decision of logic versus emotion. Logic would have demanded to slash all points, but emotion was not willing to wreck such an incredible championship with an armchair judgment.
Ultimately, box office won and the championship continued.
Turkey
Massa beats Raikkonen for a Ferrari one-two, with Alonso third. A puncture forces a damage-limitation exercise from Hamilton, who trails home in fifth.
Standings: Hamilton 84, Alonso 79, Raikkonen 68
Italy
Alonso has the edge over Hamilton as McLaren route Ferrari on the Italians’ home turf. It puts them just three points apart with four rounds remaining. Raikkonen finishes a distant third.
Standings: Hamilton 92, Alonso 89, Raikkonen 74
Belgium
Raikkonen wins in commanding fashion from Massa, with Alonso third and Hamilton fourth. The gap shrinks to just two points.
Standings: Hamilton 97, Alonso 95, Raikkonen 84
Japan
Hamilton weathers the Fuji storm to win, extending his championship lead to 12 points after Alonso crashes out. Raikkonen’s third place keeps him in the hunt – just.
Standings: Hamilton 107, Alonso 95, Raikkonen 90
Lewis Hamilton was now one race away from racing immortality. 12 points ahead of his nearest rival. and 17 points ahead of Kimi Raikonnen.
The penultimate race was in Shanghai. Typhoon Krosa was exerting its influence on the fringes of the track. The hurricane of emotion within an eager mind though is different. For a long time, Lewis Hamilton led on track. Then as the weather started playing tricks and the sun and rain made dry lines in some parts of the circuit, ripples of doubt began to form in puddles of Mclaren’s strategy. To make matters worse, Ron Dennis blurted out that they were not racing Kimi, but Alonso. It was something that Fernando had been drumming all along. Ultimately bringing the car in for his first pitstop, still running wet tyres in drying conditions, just a few metres shy of the pit garage and well into the pit lane, Lewis Hamilton overdid it. He overran it all and ended up in the gravel. Experience is a brutal teacher is probably a chinese saying in Lewis’ mind. Raikonnen first, Alonso second.
Standings: Hamilton 107, Alonso 103, Raikkonen 100
Across the world they traveled. To Brazil. And it was all to play for. Could anyone possibly have scripted this?
Oh and did I mention Felipe Massa ? This was his home grand prix. And he had won last year. And he’d love to win again. And he was on pole.
The rest is history. And even today, three days later , a bit of a blur.
Fernando Alonso and Lewis Hamilton have ended up tied at 109 points. Both losing as much as they have won. Fernando’s dream of proving his mettle in a new place wrecked as much by his own ego as by his employers inability to accommodate him. Lewis Hamilton’s falling away in the second half as expectations and pressure of performance caught up with him is something that is likely to only go higher from here on. Wayne Rooney was Pele in 2004. Henman didn’t win Wimbledon. Beware the weight of expectations.
And finally to Kimi Raikonnen. Its a tribute to the man that he’s called the Iceman so often. Consider this though. As he warmed up to the scarlet Ferrari, he’s just gotten hotter. Its not that the pressure of making up points is any less. But in the last 9 races, Kimi had 4 wins, 2 second places and 2 thirds.
Ultimately tho, the difference was that one team had two guys who were willing to respect each other and allow for the other’s ambition. And therein lies a lesson.
Battles of the Mind …OR … Postcard from the Sledge.
When in 1991 Vishy Anand played his first Linares event he met a Spanish couple Maurice and Nieves. They were the reason Anand moved to Collado Mediano. They travelled with Vishy to many events over the years. Still when Vishy wins, Maurice is the first person he thinks of. He is by far Anand’s biggest fan. Nieves is no more and when Vishy won Linares in 2006, he dedicated it to her.
Maurice still remembers meeting Vishy in 1991. “ He has the way of walking you know . His hand in his pocket and talking fast . He played with Beliyavsky and had barely used 10 minutes on his clock .So I said ‘tomorrow Karpov – think a little more’ and he said ‘how about 11?’.”
Glenn McGrath, with a grand Test batting average of 7.36 (51 not outs) – a total of 641 Test runs, as opposed to 543 Test wickets. McGrath’s autobiography devotes to his batting an entire, typically earnest, chapter. “You see, the way I look at cricket is there are eleven batsmen in a cricket side,” he insisted. “We all have a job to do, and we’re expected to do it with a certain aplomb.”
Seldom has the doctrine of mental disintegration been so methodically enforced as at Brisbane in the November of 2004-05, when McGrath joined Jason Gillespie with their team 118 in the lead on first innings just after tea on the third day. The teams seemed close to parity as the New Zealanders contemplated their second dig in advance. But, with nothing other than orthodox strokeplay, the last Australian pair made increasingly merry. They had added 93 by the close, and a record 114 by their separation, their partnership lasting longer than the eventual response of the visitors – a demoralised 76.
The interlude, nonetheless, was not merely about Australian strength. The New Zealanders were complicit in their own downfall, slack bowling and outcricket allowing the partnership to establish itself. Advantages in cricket are not always taken; sometimes they are ceded.
As India and Australia jostle in this series, this Brijnath piece in the Hindu the other day. The idea of mental disintegration is not to sledge. It was not to coin a new term. It is (and must be) to get the best out of yourself. And cast doubt in the mind of the opposition. Anything else, is missing the point.
Lalchand Rajput says “We’re at home and we’ll give it to them strong. Just as we expect them to give it to us strong when we go over”. I am not so sure thats all correct either. Or maybe it is but only partly so because on the field, Australia don’t play it any different home or away. Off the field is where the difference lies. Mitch Johnson’s been familiarising himself with conditions at the MRF pace academy. Brett Lee’s recording songs and wooing girls (Asha Bhosale qualifies). Adam Gilchrist is mixing with street children between games and visiting charities that he’s associated with. Matthew Hayden’s taking his fishing buddy Andrew Symonds along in Cochin to the children’s home he’s a patron of and once he’s done with that he’s visiting places to learn cuisine as part of the Matthew Hayden cookbooks. Its part of their efforts at trying to “feel at home”.
After yesterday’s 9 wicket victory which ensures they can’t lose, Ricky Ponting said they came with the idea of winning every match, but now that they’d lost at Chandigarh, they’ll try and settle for next best.
What one must realise- and hopefully learn is that the Aussies want to beat you, hammer you and grind you to dust, even humiliate you – but its nothing personal.
Halfway there – or are we ? ; Dhoni’s opening gambits…
Lets get this off to the realistic start it deserves. 4 matches into this series, we’re 1-2 behind and although we’ve won 1, it was our first win since 2004. Of the last 25 matches that we’ve played Australia, we’ve lost 17 (3 were No Results). Yesterday’s loss was Australia’s first in 15 games.
Now for the stats which are a bit more quirky, India has not beaten Australia while chasing a target since that game in Sharjah in 1997-98. Its not like we’ve won a lot either. In the 10 years since, in 34 matches played we’ve won 7 times but all the victories have been batting first.
Small wonder then that Dhoni won the toss and did the dew – he chose to bat. It was the best chance we had as the history books and recent matches had shown us. Without the experience and class upfront though, it could have been a damp squib. A lot is being made of the seniors in the Indian side none of whom are that much older than Mathew Hayden, Adam Gilchrist or Ricky Ponting. They’re just under more pressure because selectors and board officials remind them about it. (How’s a Niranjan Shah shooting his mouth off in Hyderabad about Ganguly not “worthy” of a censure? How is it any better than Vengsarkar talking about the seniors? How is either useful ?). And yet, the experience of the opening pair stood firm. Every dot ball must have spelt doubt. But the resolve won. And the platform was set. 291-4 was a result of that. And Ricky Ponting’s mistakes with his bowling changes. And the other things that fall in place when wickets are in hand. Thats what experience brings.
The chase was off to a flier. We’ve bowled patchily all series and it was no different yesterday. But its amazing how the afternoon sun makes good patches seem purple when there are 291 runs on the board. From 190-3 in the 34th, India won Australia lost. Another Dhoni gamble – three left arm medium pacers and two spinners – paid off. A brave call-up for Murali Karthik paid off. Most importantly, India held on to what looked for a large part of the afternoon like a lost cause.
So, does this mean much at all ? The answer of course is, I don’t know and neither do you.
What we do know is that in two of the three result games, Australia have been comprehensively the better side while we have squeaked home in the game that we have won. And thats boiled down to a consistency in the aussie performance. However, as the series gets longer, the tests for the less experienced Aussie campaigners is going to get tougher.
India, on the other hand is playing under a new captain – not afraid to chop and change the dynamics and willing to experiment – much like Dravid was in his first series as skipper. Consistency is not the strong suit but a willingness to fight sure is. For the series to go down to the wire though, we’ll need a bit more of the first along with large doses of the second.
The Gold Rush …
They say that pictures are worth a thousand words. When one looks back at these, one wonders what the doubt was all about.
This is Marion Jones. And yes, the photograph is the end of the 100m finals at the Sydney Olympics.
And this, ahead of the haze (and Carl Lewis) is Ben Johnson at the 1988 Seoul Olympics 100m sprint.
More often than not though, sport is about that special someone who is far ahead of the pack. Or the game trier. Just a celebration of the spirit. Uncompromising and unaided.
There. 100 words already.
Enough said.
What the Deuce …?
I happened to be a proud recipient of a complimentary pass to the Kingfisher open Men’s singles final match conducted in Mumbai last Sunday. Now, I have always been a Tennis fan but never had the opportunity to watch a ‘live’ tennis match. Oliver Rochus v/s Richard Gasquet (I hope I got the spellings right), seemed a decent contest frankly. Not a Federer – Sampras exhibition match, but then I wasn’t charged SGD 200 either.
Once the match started, one could figure out that there were 2 camps within the spectators. Those who supported Rochus and those who were opposed to the ‘Rochus supporters’. Now the Rochus supporters were those perennial animal lovers whose love of the underdog can take them to any length. Show us Indians an underdog and we will show you our hero. The atmosphere was carnival like. The only thing missing was a Ferris wheel.
The Rochus supporters were misguided by the learned commentator that their hero was pronounced as Rock – us instead of the actual Roh-kews. So every time he won a point, there was a deafening chanting of “Rockus Rockus”. The Gasquet faction would take this as a personal slight and start their own chanting. Chak de Rock -us was another crowd favourite. Every point was cheered, so what if it were a double fault or an unforced error. The average time between 2 points was double the normal point as each party wanted to have the last word.
The poor players would look up a couple of times for the crowd to stop the chants. The chair umpire would say ‘thank you’ which would spur the spectators to greater heights in their chants. The off court events were much more attractive than the on court game, so I won’t waste my time describing the match.
It will never be known whether Oliver Rochus lost to a superior opponent or to the continued pillorying of his name by his supporters. But in the end it was the Tennis spectator who was the winner. Amen..
Not just anywhere, this was in Mumbai, at the CCI. The moot point is that its not only teams / players who need coaches. Our country needs training in the basic etiquettes of sport watching. A policeman walking across the sight screen is one of the common sights in Indian cricket. Clapping in the middle of a point is considered encouragement – be it Tennis, table tennis, Badminton.. You name it. We as as a nation are acting like the nouveau rich in the sport arena. We might have the money power to organise a tournament, run a full sport but maybe we should outsource the spectators.
I agree that we as a society suffer from this boorishness across all spectrum of life. Be it sport, be it public conduct. But to imbibe a sports culture, we need to be sporting. To be champions, we need to learn to act as one. Else we will end up seeing the Sreesanths of the world being idolised for their aggressiveness, not accepting defeats to a better side, clapping on an opponents double fault..
I have always been a die hard Indian fan and have complained at unfair treatment meted out to us by umpires/ referees / foreign media. But we have to be fair before asking for neutrality from others. Anyway, think that’s a separate topic..
P.S. One of the songs playing in the background that day was – ‘We will, we will Rock you‘.. Anyone for poetic injustice?
Posted by Rahul
Check De, India !
There’s no point in getting into arguments about who India’s greatest Sportsman is. Those kind are just interesting talking points and blog posts. But Vishwanathan Anand’s sponsors’ NIIT call him India’s Mind Champion. Anyone feel like arguing ?
Many years ago , Anand recalls … “once I was on this train in India . One elderly gentleman sat next to me and started talking . He asked what i did . I said I am a chess player. The man was not convinced , He said yes but what do you do. Does your father own a business ? I said no I play chess . After 10 minutes the man looked me staright in the face and said “ All this chess is very nice if you can be Viswanathan Anand but you I am not sure .” After this I couldn’t get myself to tell this gentleman who I was but I realised that maybe I was on to something“…
Yesterday, Vishy Anand became World Chess Champion for the second time. This one though was a bit more special than the first in that it was undisputed. No wranglings within the FIDE about recognising various bodies , no parallel tournaments being run, no politics. A mere 70 ELO points seperating the top 8 players. And no notable absentees – yes Kramnik was there. And Anand came out of it all undefeated.
The undisputed Champion of the World.
p.s. Many years ago, a Brijnath piece on Vishy Anand. Note the part about the autobiography (“Only when I win the World Championships”) – Thats a book to have !
Warne’s 50 – and Australia’s XI
A few weeks ago, Shane Warne writing a column for The Times in the UK, started unleashing a list of 50 greatest cricketers he had played with or against. As with all things Warne, it was not without its share of the controversial.
The list opened and in its first ten i.e. 50-41 itself there were surprises. At numbers 50 and 49 were two people who had never played a Test. Those who were going to miss the cut had already been sledged.
40-31 was a middle of the road kind of part of the list. Just that Stuart Macgill (40 matches – 198 wickets at 27.20) came in at 39. Tim May (24 matches- 75 wickets at 34.74) came in at 31.
Then the fun really started. As we moved into the 30-21, Shane prefaced it by saying that this part seems to ruffle a few feathers here and there. Steve Waugh came in at 26. Not just any other number, but the top of the bottom half of the list. Warne’s explanation was ” This may raise a few eyebrows. Yes, he scored a lot of runs, but to me he was a match-saver rather than a match-winner. That is why he is not higher. There were also times when he struggled against the short ball. But he had good all-round capabilities and was always reliable in the gully. Mark Taylor handed him a wonderful team.” At 25, one notch above was Warne’s buddy Darren Lehmann (1,798 Test runs to Waugh’s 10,927). Stephen Fleming made it to 23. A Kiwi Skipper ranked higher by a guy you led – wonder how an Aussie feels about that.
20-11 came around and right down at 20 was Adam Gilchrist – a guy who would probably make most teams chosen for the time period we are talking about. Merv Hughes was a surprise entrant at 18 and Mark Waugh showed up well above Steve Waugh at 12.
The Top Ten is , well, his top ten. Its hard to argue and so long as it has Sachin at One, I won’t. Take a look at it and actually, the top 11 are a pretty handy team (batting order mine).
Mark Taylor
Sachin Tendulkar
Ricky Ponting
Brian Lara
Allan Border
Ian Healy
Wasim Akram
Curtly Ambrose
Glenn Mcgrath
Courtney Walsh
Mutthiah Muralitharan.
At the end of the day, its Shane Warne’s team and he’s entitled to stir the pot all he likes. There are notable exceptions – VVS probably the most glaring for me.
Looked in its entirety though, the list is very “Shane Warne” and by that I mean, it has a lot of talking points in itself without going into the subtleties – Merv Hughes higher than Waqar ? No Damien Martyn ? No Dean Jones ? Inzamam ?
But when we do let that dust settle, comes the real stuff. And thats when the vanity and ambition show. The on-field heroism of the author apart, if you look at it in an unbiased manner, there is a lot of washing of dirty linen in public here.
Stuart Macgill has the best strike rate, for instance and there’s very little doubt that he’d have got a far longer run if had played in any era apart from one which was inhabited by Warne’s awesome presence. That 39, is hardly encouraging.
In 1999, Steve Waugh and Shane Warne were contenders for taking over captaincy from Mark Waugh. Steve Waugh got the job. If that was not reason enough for a bit of trouble, in Waugh’s first series as Skipper, this happened. By the time of those drug allegations at the World Cup and the great Steve Waugh – John Buchanan partnership, the relationship was probably symbiotic in a selfish kind of way. The rationale for the Steve Waugh position is the one that makes it so dodgy. Steve Waugh’s average in Tests that Australia won was 69 as opposed to 35 in drawn games. 25 of his 32 centuries led to Australia victories. And while its true that he inherited a very good outfit from Mark Taylor its also true that he transformed it into a great one by – ironically – removing draws from the equation to a large extent.
Adam Gilchrist, all of ten slots behind Ian Healy is one thing. One imagines the part that would hurt a little bit is this : “He is still a batsman-keeper rather than the other way round” … and the part that must really sting, at the age of 36, “but his keeping is improving.“
What the list does is tell a fascinating , if largely untold story about a essential component of the Australian success story. These are larger than life superstars, pillars of the game who were willing to put the personal differences aside each time they put on the baggy green.
That apart, the list is Shane Warne’s. Its as personal as a text message.
That Top of the World Feeling ….
Knock Knock
Who’s There ?
Misba
Misba Who ?
Misba 5 runs .
Just for a brief while yesterday, surely, an old nightmare came back to haunt a few people. A young man named Sharma ran in to bowl to a determined, possessed Pakistan batsman . Thats when the comparisons ended. That was 21 years ago. I was older then. I feel younger now .
Joginder Sharma ran in to bowl after a brief chat with his skipper (“a slower one”, presumably?) and Sreesanth settled in at 45 …
A few moments later, India was cradling cricket’s latest child. World Champions of the 1st Twenty20 World Cup.
They say that there is nothing you should fear more than people who are scared. Or wary.
Put it down to the format or the exuberance of youth or a combination of both but fear was never the main emotion on display. Right from the time of the bowl-out, to the victories over England, South Africa, Australia and back to the finals, the Unchained Melody has been the theme.
Twenty20 with an India-Pakistan final has captured a vast market. That part is unarguable. Its also true though, that the format itself leaves itself open to the cynics. Justifiably. Sixes and fours rain. Bowlers feel good with 7ish economy rates. Batsmen don’t value wickets. Building an innings is almost a sin. Almost each toss has the losing skipper saying “conditions won’t change much”. With 3 hour match durations those are understatements. Things move lightning quick. Dot balls are gold. Risk is not a four letter word.
In such a scenario, how tough is it being fearless ? And yet, M S Dhoni has been outstanding. Whether it be the simplicity of choosing the bowlers in a high pressure bowl-out (lets not talk about what thats doing in a cricket match!), or his selections or the batting orders or the belief he has shown in his men, he has barely put a foot wrong. Applauding (even miffed, though sincere) efforts in the field, keeping interaction with bowlers during overs to the minimum, having the courage with field placements in tight games, he has shown the ability to multi-task in clearly high pressure games. Remember this : prior to the World Cup India had played only one International Twenty20 game. MS Dhoni had been keeping for two and a half months of the English tour incessantly. Its been an outstanding beginning.
But, and this part is important – its only a beginning. Twenty20 is NOT the real deal. In all of Dhoni’s success are a number of gambles. And as he’ll find out, fortune does not always favour the brave. Nor does the media. We’ll leave that for later though. For now, to him and his team , a huge Well Done !
Earlier post on Dhoni here
The Circle of Life …
Six months ago – to the day – India, played its last game at the World Cup. Two days before that and a few hours after finding out about the death of their coach, Pakistan had played its last match at the World cup as well. Two great cricket superpowers brought to their sporting knees.
All seemed lost. A generation of greats had their dreams of a World cup win gone forever and they were photographed, those photographs that captured their broken dreams and somewhere a fear that we would now put them to trial for losing.
Tomorrow, India will play Pakistan in the finals of the Twenty20 World Cup. So much has changed in six months. So much has happened this past week. A new generation of cricketers have come to the fore. A new form of the game has caught the World’s imagination. The superpowers have turned to youth and at various times have looked unbeatable and tomorrow, they meet again.
Someone will lose a sporting contest. It will not change the fact that yesterday’s gone. Like it always does.
Winning is everything …
Considering that this is now the 176th post on this blog, I am amazed that I have managed to keep away from my favourite sport. Not one post in almost six months on Formula 1.
The reason’s quite simple. A first post would simply have to be on Michael Schumacher. That it would then unleash a long, possibly unending series was immaterial. But I was (and am) sure I would never be able to do justice to a guy whose performance was exemplified by this :
“Race driving is not a test of courage or a feat of strength. You have to be able to tell whether the car can take a particular corner at a particular speed or not. It is up to you to know how you take this corner but if you need courage to do it, you have a problem. It’s about knowing where the limits lie”
7 World Championships. 91 wins of 249 races. 154 finishes on podium (61.85% of the time). 190 finishes in the points (76.3%). 5.5 points on an average each time he started a race – think about it.
Then think about this.
Schumacher is a special ambassador to UNESCO and has donated 1.5 million Euros to them. Additionally, he paid for the construction of a school for poor children and for area improvements in Senegal. He supports a hospital for child victims of war in Sarajevo, which specialises in caring for amputees. In Peru he funded the “Palace for the Poor”, a centre for helping homeless street children obtain an education, clothing, food, medical attention, and shelter. He stated his interest in these various efforts was piqued both by his love for children and the fact that these causes had received little attention. While an exact figure for the amount of money he has donated throughout his life is unknown, it is known that in his last four years as a driver, he donated at least $50 million. And yes, he did donate $ 10 million to the Tsunami Relief Fund. More than any other sports person, most sports leagues, many worldwide corporations and even some countries.
Perhaps the biggest quality associated with Schumi was the ruthless efficiency on the circuit. The must-win. The anything-goes and nothing-is-wrong approach. What should be remembered is the wins. The sheer consistency of performance. The crescendo that perfection achieved each time he climbed into a F1 machine. And the stark contrast when he stepped out. No off circuit controversies. Just a quiet, dignified champion.
Hidden in the Schumacher story are a number of questions about modern sport. But none of the answers deny him excellence.
Uplifting interest …
Last night, fast asleep at 0130, I got a phone call.
It had been a stressful couple of days at work. Sleep was desirable if not essential. There was no way it would be anything but toss and turn though. The caller knew it.
But I wish you could have heard the excitement in the voice. It did not wait for me to complete a “Hello”.
“Did you see that Yuvraj over?!“, he barked.
“Huh?” I probably mumbled.
“SIX SIXES IN AN OVER, YAAAR !In Broad’s last over. In STUART BROAD’s last over.”
“Who hit them?” I asked, still groggy and confused. Dimitri Mascarenhas nightmares clouding my already cluttered mind.
“Yuvi, Yaar !“
“In one over?” Signs of life …
“Yes, dude !“
“We batted first?” Interest started surfacing . I was sitting up now. The wife was awake. A bit worried.
“Yaar, I know its late and all that but we batted first and we’ve scored 218 but thats not whats important. Whats important is that Yuvi scored six sixes in an over off Stuart Broad !! In an international game !!!!!! I just thought that was special enough to wake you up yaar” The pal who had called to spread cheer was beginning to lose patience…
“Thanks, Rahul. Speak with you in the morning.” I was trying to convey gratitude that i sincerely meant and combine that with how this was going to get explained to the wife….
“Everything ok at work?” she asked.
“Yup“
“What was that“
“err ..Yuvi got six sixes in an over …It was against Stuart Broad“
——————————————————————————————-
Considering that 9 is the minimum it would take, Yuvraj’s 12 ball fifty is going to take some beating. That it did not come against minnow opposition only adds to it. And many Youtube viewings later, I struggle to find where his fifth six was mistimed. They all seem like wonderful , clean hitting.
That innings is probably enough for a giant leap in the popularity of the form of the game for television in India. I’d guess that further success in this tournament would be the litmus test but that innings might have been enough.
Where’s this relationship going ….?
So today I have a scary question like that one above.
If Tests are the real thing, (and the Ashes will be the only 5 Test series ),
and
there is just too much one day cricket already
and
Twenty20 is Barbie Doll And Bobby Deol and yet there is so much of it mushrooming all over -
AND
we reckon that there is tonnes of player stress and burnout,
then my question is :
Where is the scope for Cricket to get any more popular worldwide than it already is?
If new frontiers embrace the sport, when will they play?
Plans that either come to naught or …
Today Rahul Dravid resigned as captain of Team India. Or offered to.
Typically I’d wait till the dust settled and things got clarified about what that means before I wrote a post on something like this but I feel strongly about Rahul Dravid. I even thought he was deserving of the highest compliment at the recent Test series. So here goes.
I think Rahul started off as captain quite brilliantly. Thought out-of-the-box. Cocked snooks and took daring gambles which paid off (that helps!). And so a declaration with Sachin at 194 in a Test match still got us a victory and lots of juggling in batting orders still got us 6-1 in an ODI series against Sri Lanka. And then somewhere down the line he lost his way in a maze of processes.
We won some Test series along the way but particularly in the shorter form of the game, we’ve had a series of poor performances. Some outstanding players have lost their way even as some others have been brought to life. Some back to life.
For a guy who is so much a perfectionist and able to stand back and see things in perspective, he’ll realise this : On his watch, the one-day team has not gotten better. Truth is a bitter pill.
I, for one, hope that this “offer for resignation” is treated with the respect it deserves. We should appoint a new one day captain. Rahul Dravid should stay as skipper for the Tests.
When, not if. Roger that…
When you join the growing list of Novak Jokovic’s fans and search Youtube for his many videos, you will find that he does a few brilliantly funny ones of Maria Sharapova (“just friends”), Andy Roddick, Goran Ivanisevic, Lleyton Hewitt and Rafael Nadal. They’re complete with mannerisms and all. He does not even stop at Rafa’s tugging at his shorts from butt-crack bit.
Then he does a Roger Federer. Its unique. No mockery or imitation of serve here. He impersonates Roger’s victory ritual. There is a certain piety in performance that somehow bars even humour from crossing a line of reverence.
Roger Federer’s career records are already beginning to sound like the Guinness Book. In 2004, he became the first player since 1988 to win three Grand Slam titles the same year. In 2006, he became the only player in the Open era to repeat it and this year he’s done it yet again. In 2007, by winning his third Australian Open title, he became the only male player to have won three separate Grand Slam tournaments at least three times. By winning Wimbledon in ’07, Federer tied Bjorn Borg’s open-era record of five consecutive Wimbledon championships. By reaching the 2007 U.S. Open final, he became the only player to have reached the finals of all four Grand Slam tournaments for two consecutive years. By winning the US Open, Federer became the only player in the Open Era to win four consecutive U.S. Open titles. He is the only male player to have won three Grand Slam singles titles in a calendar year three times and the only player ever to have won Wimbledon and the U.S. Open back-to-back for four consecutive years. At the US Open, Federer reached his tenth consecutive Grand Slam singles final – an all-time record in men’s tennis.
Must be getting boring, Roger?
“It’s important for me in my stage in my career to prove myself,” he says “And this was a perfect opportunity against Djokovic, also against Andy. I was coming into the U.S. Open after Nadal played so well at Wimbledon. It was time for me to prove myself again and I achieved it, so it was kind of a good feeling inside.”
He’s now won 12 of his 14 Grand Slam finals. And that now puts him ahead of Rod Laver and Bjorn Borg. I’ll repeat that. Ahead of Rod Laver and Bjorn Borg. So what makes a guy who’s been number 1 for 189 weeks (longest ever for any player – male or female) win the last three rounds of a Grand Slam in straight sets, when he’s by all accounts not playing at his best ?
There is this one target. Pete Sampras’ 14.
After the US Open…
Q. Today Tiger Woods shot a 63 and had a come‑from‑behind victory in a tournament. He has said that you are the most dominant athlete in sports. What do you make of what he said on the day that you’ve just won your 12th slam?
ROGER FEDERER: Well, it’s very kind, you know. Of course, you know, I love getting compliments from Tiger because they do mean something to me. It’s great to see him winning, as well. It’s always the best if we win at the same time, you know.
I hope he can keep his great run up, beat Jack Nicklaus’ record. I’m chasing down Sampras. For me it’s a lot of fun, being compared with Tiger, who is the greatest. I’ll leave that up to the audience. But my last few years have been incredible.
Q. You passed Borg and Laver today with your 12th. How much do you think about the Sampras record? How badly do you want it?
ROGER FEDERER: I think about it a lot now, honestly. In the beginning I was ‑‑ I felt pushed a little bit in the corner, put under pressure about the situation because you don’t win slams like that, it’s just too tough.
I feel these two and a half weeks, it’s so draining. I’m exhausted in the end. It’s a great relief, you know, just to finally maybe have a good night’s sleep without thinking about the upcoming five‑setter I have to play. So I know how tough it is.
So to come so close already at my age is fantastic, and I really hope to break it.
Q. When you’re done, how many do you think you’ll have?
ROGER FEDERER: Don’t know. I really don’t know. I mean, I hope more than Pete (smiling).
How must Pete Sampras feel? These were imprints on tennis courts. Not footprints on sands to be washed away by the next wave.
“I did all I could do in the ’90s, and I really thought the 14 would be tough to beat. Little did I know Roger would come along and dominate the way he has — and that could last a while longer,” says Pete , “If there’s a player and a person that I’d like to see break this, it would be Roger. He’s a great guy. Lets his racket do the talking. One of those humble champions I like.”
They’ve played competitive tennis once. At Wimbledon in 2001. Federer won 7-6(7), 5-7, 6-4, 6-7(2), 7-5. Pete Sampras had never lost a 5 set match at Wimbledon before. They’ve since played at the courts at Pete’s LA home. Roger says he’s not saying who won but that it was competitive in the tie breaks….
Roger Federer and Pete Sampras are to play a three game exhibition series in Asia in the third week of November and then a big exhibition game at Madison Square garden on March 10. By which time Roger Federer would have had a chance to win his fourth Australian Open and 13th slam. And he’ll be knocking on the door. Pete Sampras is keen. “I still serve well. Roger’s Roger. It’s going to hopefully be competitive tennis,” Sampras said. “We both wanted to do it because our names have been linked and will be linked for the next couple of years.”
Meanwhile, for the craft of writing, research, ideas, execution and the sheer guts to try it, here’s an old piece by Rohit Brijnath. Its dated 2005 and its a fictional match between Pete Sampras and Roger Federer.
Read. Enjoy. Bookmark. Celebrate.
Outrunning the ghost …
Two weeks ago, it was supposed to be the big showdown at Osaka.
Tyson Gay vs Asaka Powell at the 100m sprint.
As it turned out, though – despite having run a world record 9.77 secs thrice, Powell had never won a world title and he didn’t then.
“When I saw I wasn’t in gold medal contention, I gave up. I just stopped running, I said to myself there was no coming back from this.” He said “I felt very free, very relaxed before the race. But when Tyson came on and gave me a little pressure, I just panicked.”
Two weeks, to the day, later, at Reiti in Italy, he broke smashed his previous world record in a (legal) wind aided, but pressure-free 9.74 secs.
Hidden there is probably a question that will forever haunt us. Who is better? Who is the real winner? Pure talent or sheer tenacity? Does pure talent, even if its in a superb, untainted athlete such as Asafa Powell, who has failed to rise to the occasion lose any value if its outdone at the big event by a marginally slower performer? Is talent that wilts under the scanner of pressure really any less?
Posted by Rahul
3 All and 1 to “them” …
Ok, I’ll be the first to admit it. I struggled with the hangover all weekend. And tried to regain the positive frame of mind and all that. But nope. I didn’t manage it. I could not identify with everyone else’s “the better side won” and “our weaknesses finally showed up” bit. I can’t understand the difference that one game made to six. Call me a bad loser if you will but I know that I’d probably have said the same thing if the result had been the other way around but been marred by the same thing.
Given the standards of umpiring right through the series and the way the whole technology-in-umpiring debate has resurfaced / been shoved under the carpet , my verdict is this :
We were the overwhelming favourites going into the one day series. The fact that we reached Lords 3 all is a huge victory to England and shows that they are a vastly improved side. Credit to Collingwood and the guys.
4-3 is the official result. I’m going with 3 all and 1 to the umpires. They influenced the series enough to get at least that much credit.
Ready or Not, Here I come …
There was a particular beauty to yesterday’s contest which underscores the times we live in. Everything is lightning quick. Everything is under the scanner and must be right. Every mistake is analysed. The run fest at the Oval showed that not all of that is bad.
A number of mistakes were made by a host of people yesterday. With England looking for a long awaited one day series win and India fighting to stay in it, there was so much at stake that frailties which characterise humans were bound to surface. So an umpire made an error – then saw a giant screen and changed his mind, Kevin Pietersen ran out Paul Collingwood, then ran himself out with Owais Shah at the other end, Rahul Dravid ran out of bowlers, Yuvraj Singh ran out of ideas and after a wonderful summer, James Anderson looks like he’s probably running out of steam.
But yesterday will be remembered not for the mistakes but for the achievers.
Owais Shah had stood rooted to his crease in the one game when the superstar KP had got his first ODI 50 of the summer. Surely, he could have sacrificed his wicket. He should have. But he didn’t and he stuck on. And how.
Luke Wright making his one day debut. (Wonder how many in history have a 4 and six as their first international scoring shots?) To my mind, Luke Wright set up the move from 137-5 to 316-6. If that was the nervous beginning, watch out once he settles in.
Dimitri Mascarenhas is not in England’s Twenty/20 squad. Go figure.
Zaheer Khan, Piyush Chawla and Romesh Powar . Irrespective of the result of the series , they have been terrific. 29 overs between them for 131 between them tells its own story.
Sachin Tendulkar – if anything batted better than he did in the match before. The joy is not so much that he’s playing with the fluency of old but that he’s rediscovered the concept of inspiring. Yesterday was the second consecutive century partnership. (When Ganguly fell in the 23rd over , we were 150 and Ganguly was all of 53). Sachin plays and India wins, is back. Man of the match.
And finally to Robin Uthapa. He’s been in the sidelines all summer as a makeshift opener has done brilliantly in the Tests and another has been given a number of chances till he’s finally begun to come good. Yesterday, Uthapa got his chance at no 7. He’s never batted there before. He came in to bat at 234-5 in the 41st. There was no batting to come. The composure and cool of it all in a never-before-but-must-now was the impressive part. The buildup to the finale. The fact that he got 24 of the final 27 runs. That audacious shot over fine leg for a boundary with 4 balls to go and 8 to get which prompted Collingwood to bring long off in and move fine leg back. And then the confidence to take a couple of steps forward to get to the pitch of the next delivery and drive it past that mid off for the winning boundary. Outstanding.
Unlike the lyric in the song, a number of performances yesterday that were keen on taking the lead role in the war….
And so 3 all and to Lords we go for the decider. Thats where it all began.
Wish I was there …
Savour these moments …
“At a dinner in Leeds on Friday night, Sachin Tendulkar talked about playing under pressure. Nobody is better qualified to do so. He said the only way to cope with the extraordinary expectation that has followed his career was to see pressure as a subjective rather than objective force. He was happy if he satisfied himself and happier still if he retained the respect and support of his team.” Mark Nicholas in the Telegraph.
“Sachin sent back a message saying that it is a really good batting wicket and we should be looking to get a score near 300 or just over 300.” Rahul Dravid after the game.
The scenario was clear. We were down 1-3 with 3 to play. The repercussions of a loss were obvious and yet far reaching enough to cloud perspective. But 18 years since it all started at the age of 16, those shoulders have not hunched under the weight of that pressure. And although age has punctuated the brilliance, as it always does, yesterday in the cold grey of Headingley, it shone brightly. Once the eye was in, the target set, it was not about that 42nd hundred which had earlier been elbowed away by an umpiring error but about getting the team to where it needed to be. There were no half measures. Jon Lewis will probably never forget that over – try as he might. And Stuart Broad will realise quickly why the game is a huge leveler. Platform set, bowlers’ confidence dented, batsmen shown the way – the weather could only get better.
Shane Warne called him the best cricketer he had played against. Warne said that it was the ability to withstand pressure and his mental toughness that put him a notch higher. Anyone who questions the guys ability to perform under pressure probably misses the whole point.
Bob Dylan : “Basically you need to suppress your own ambitions to be who you really need to be“. These are moments when we should be getting ready for a standing ovation on a career built in the relentless pursuit of a craft to the point of selflessness. Shame on those that chose to boo.
p.s. India won. 2-3 with two to go.
The World on Time – Fedex
Now, thats not even a headline I thought of. Its an ad slogan for FedEx and since this is a post about Roger Federer, it just seemed kinda apt.
The US Open is about to enter its second week and as is becoming common (as opposed to boring), the guy to beat is this gent here.
Its not surprising actually. Considering that Roger Federer has not lost at Flushing Meadows since 2003. At the finals last year, he had 69 winners (52 not including aces) to Andy Roddick’s 33. Leave out the aces and in the tournament he had 254 winners. Ninety more than the guy he beat in the finals. I’m not asking you to get on to the tennis court and try to hit a winner against Andy Roddick. I’m asking you to get on to a couch and watch somebody hit an impossible to reach, impeccably designed, piece-of-art shot that makes you gasp while you struggle to stay horizontal. Such is the awe. And then multiply that awe 90 times over. That many winners MORE than the next best guy at a slam.
Enough of me. I’ll leave it to somebody who knows a thing or two.
The most impressive aspect of Roger Federer’s ascendancy to the top of the tennis world is the way he carries himself as a champion. It’s quite unusual. He just lets his racquet do the talking. There’s no entourage at his beck and call. He doesn’t have a bunch of coaches and trainers micromanaging everything he does. Roger has so much natural talent, they would just disrupt it if they muddled his mind. He exudes energy, and you just know he enjoys the camaraderie of all his competitors. Tennis had lost that positive vibe over the years. His game is so spectacular and graceful—I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked friends, “Did you see Roger’s shot last week, the crosscourt winner he hit a zillion miles per hour?” He has this amazing knack for raising his game just a notch more than an opponent. He never gets rattled if he’s down. You can only marvel.
Every time I speak to Roger, I sense no ego on his part. He asks me questions about how I prepared for big matches—Roger has a clear appreciation for the history of tennis. (Plus, these days, I should be the one peppering him with questions. He’s the big star!) When you’re talking to Roger, he makes you feel important—whether you’re a fan, an opposing player or an old geezer like me. People often ask me if Roger, 25, is the greatest player of all time. Let’s wait until the end of his career before making the “best ever” judgment. He should definitely be in every conversation. One thing is for sure: he’s the best player of his time and one of the most admirable champions on the planet. That’s certainly something worth crowing over. The beauty is, Roger Federer won’t.
Thats Rod Laver in Time magazine earlier this year.
Which reminds me, Time recently carried an article on a global issue. Five ways to beat Federer.
Not to be outdone, the New York Times has its own version. Beat Federer? a) Be Serious. b) You Cannot Be Serious..
Maybe I should have called this post, the Time(s) on Fedex…
We didn’t lose. They won.
Sometimes it isn’t meant to be. The eventual winners just find that something special that nothing you can do is good enough. Last night, Stuart Broad and Ravi Bopara got England from 114-7 to their 213 target in difficult conditions. They have a combined age of 43.
We’ve had similar moments. Yuvraj and Kaif getting India from 120 odd for 5 to 320 odd against England in that Natwest final for instance. And we celebrate those as outstanding achievements. As two young men showcasing their brilliance under extreme pressure while facing seemingly impossible tasks.
Yesterday was the Bopara-Broad day.
Cheers !
Short handed …
Walking into the third ODI at Edgbaston of what was effectively now a best of 5 ODI series, India should really have had the upper hand psychologically. As it turns out, England have won what ultimately seemed like such an easy victory that India seem one batsman, a couple of bowlers and a team of fielders short.
6 batsmen + 5 bowlers is a strategy thats worked in the past for India but clearly what Rahul Dravid wants (who doesn’t) is an all rounder. The problem with going in with the 6+5 is that it has people in the team who are good at only one discipline. Such are always likely to be liabilities in one day sides unless they are exceptionally talented and committed and fit and consistent. Munaf Patel’s talent has given India the courage to ignore the rest of his weaknesses and give him the opportunities. His 5 overs for 37 yesterday (coming on the heals of 8 overs for 73 the match before) and India needing to win 3 of the next 4 to win the series probably mean that Munaf has played his last game of the tour. His being a liability on the field and a batsman having to bowl his quota to keep the run rate down defeats the purpose.
England got 281. It was not about partnerships as you would expect a score like that to be but about momentum. Just two partnerships of fifty plus (76 for the opening wicket the best of the lot), and Bell’s 79 the only fifty in the innings. Ian Bell’s ringing himself into form at #3 has been a big factor in the series so far as he’s held every innings together. India got the wickets at regular intervals but England had seen those cards before and carried on regardless. Collingwood said after the game that they felt at the break that maybe they were a few short.
India’s reply required a highest ever run chase. Sachin’s fifth tour dismissal to Anderson was soft and India’s #3 was somewhat predictable. At Bristol in the previous game, Dinesh Karthik was listed at 3 but on Ganguly’s dismissal, Yuvraj came out to bat. This time, Karthik got his chance to keep the left-right combination going. It didn’t last long though. Dravid’s found his touch in the Natwest series in the manner Bell has (probably a few notches higher) but with Ganguly dropping anchor (we could talk about rotating the strike but Dravid at the other end isn’t exactly the master of the sharp single) and the run rate climbing through 7, it was always uphill .
When the pressure told on the batsmen, the lack of skill sets of the lower order came through.
This 6+5 <11.
B +ve
So One All with 5 to play in the one day circus.
One suspects though that even if its coloured by hindsight, the Bristol game was decided as much at the team compositions stage as by the fantastic batting displays that were put on later.
India chose to drop Gambhir. His performances at this stage have asked for it. Definitely that he should not bat at 3. So while that part of the decision itself was not the surprise – the replacement was what made it a pleasant one. Romesh Powar. The logic offered was forthright and positive – at the Rosebowl we lost because struggled to get wickets in the middle overs. Thats the part we hope to address if we want to win. The batsmen will have to deliver. What made the decision even more remarkable was Zaheer Khan sitting the match out with a flu. This was positive intent. The small ground, the fact that we were trailing the series and that it was a day-night game in alien conditions was immaterial. As important as that it was five bowlers, India was playing two spinners for overs 20-45.
England on the other hand made one change to the winning combination. Tremlett came in and out went Monty Panesar. This morning Mike Atherton writes a piece in The Telegraph on why England have struggled to embrace the spin option in ODIs. Thats not what it was though – had it been most other opposition England would probably have played Monty – even at the small straight boundaries at Bristol. The problem, in my opinion, was that instead of playing their best XI, England was trying to counter India’s strength. As it turns out, the Indian batter’s plan of going for the 4th and 5th bowler’s twenty overs has now put Paul Collingwood in a bind. Tremlett went for 73 in his 9 and even if Monty comes back (surely !), the Flintoff and Sidebottom injuries make the composition of England’s 50 overs a worry.
To my mind, that initial difference in mindset showed right through the rest of the game. It could be the series’ psychological endgame unless England have the wherewithal to come back from it.
p.s. (Dear Chappelli, That was not dissent. Passive disappointment at best. And if I let my emotions colour it, and put the background of the guy’s illness ahead of the game, his innings within the game, his 90s on the tour so far, the dodgy decisions he’s got in the series before – then maybe it was passive disappointment at its best. Cheers.)
Rosebowl-ed … An unseen view.
9.30 pm to 5 am.
Those are the timings of the day night games in Singapore. So yes – with a 5 am start to work everyday, I was dozing off just as Matt Prior was walking back to the pavilion. I woke up to India 8 for- and that was pretty much that. The markets have a lot to offer these days ….
I had seen the toss though and from the bits I have read of the reports and scorecards, here are my impressions. Random, Derived and Unseen.
- Statsguru tells me that in the last 50 odd games, India’s only conceded 300 twice (and we won one of those two). We did not concede 300 yesterday either. When I see 210/1 after 40, that seems like a good effort. It could be argued that the problem was the score at over 40 but with this squad we can’t do any better than 4 bowlers, so there is no point quibbling about the runs that the fifth bowling combo conceded. Was 289 chase-able? You tell me.
- Gautam Gambhir may have done really well in all the tour games but his stats in ODIs ex Bangladesh, Ireland and Scotland just about give him an average of 20 in international cricket. If he must play and get another chance, does it have to be at 3 ? Should that not go to the best bat in the team?
- I think yesterday’s game was a bit about misplaced expectations. Our expectations from the conditions when we bowled, our impressions of England’s readiness as a one day unit, the absence of a plan b while chasing a 5.5+ run rate in conditions so alien told fast when we lost Ganguly to that run out and then Gambhir pottered around and the pressure multiplied fast. Its a part of our ODI play that has been an off and on scenario over the last year or so. We seemed to have overcome it in Ireland against South Africa so hopefully this was as much a tribute to England’s above par performance as our below average showing.
- Chasing 289, how does one realistically recover from 35/4 in 12? A 68 run partnership at 3.75ish taking you to the 3oth over (building a platform for a later assault presumably) is one way but if one of the twosome is Dhoni, wouldn’t it be more prudent that the target be kept within reach with a bit of aggression? Again, I didn’t see it but a 60 ball 19? In the process, that comeback hero, Fred Flintoff gets a 7 over spell for 12. Hmmm ….
Like the skipper said, India didn’t get to the party at all yesterday. I’m glad I slept through it.
What India needs though is to wake up. Else, another couple of such games and I suspect we’ll start hearing sounds of different captains for different forms of the game…..
An August Performance …
Well done India. For all the BCCI baiters and slow-on-the-coach-bandwagon red rag wavers, this was a truly independent Indian performance. It does not matter that it was 1-0 and could have been 2-0 and it does not matter either that we got out of jail at Lords. All that matters is that we won. Fair and square.
For all those that remind us that it was our first victory in England since 1986, I say this – England last won in India in 1984-85. (Actually, do look at how many teams have beaten India at home the next time they play that overseas series record rap. The last time West Indies managed it was in 1983-84 for instance. New Zealand never have. It does not change the fact that to be the best we must strive to constantly improve, but it puts a few things in perspective.)
At the start of this series, India walked in with more questions than answers. They had left out a bunch of familiar match winners. Sehwag, Irfan Pathan & Harbhajan Singh did not make the cut while promising names like Munaf Patel were sidelined by injury. In their place were a few new faces, some comeback names and a mix of superstars battling a multifaceted attack of age, criticism and doubt. The victory in Bangladesh had done nothing to heal the scars of the World Cup. And they were without a coach. The expectations though, were still sky high. They always are.
At the start of the series, Rahul Dravid said “if we don’t do well, I’m not going to say, ‘Oh, we did not have a coach’. In the end, talk is cheap. People themselves have to also realise what they have to give to the team, what their responsibilities are.”
Whats probably been the biggest success story for India in this victory has been that there has not been any single success story. Everybody, bar none, has contributed.
Dinesh Karthik who got his place at the expense of Viru Sehwag in the side, has scored a fifty in every Test he’s played and at no stage has he looked like the stage is too big for him. With Wasim Jaffer, they’re now India’s opening pair for the year and its hard to see someone challenging them for positions into the Australia tour. If someone does, it’ll be a nice embarrassment of riches to have.
Sachin Tendulkar, Saurav Ganguly, VVS and Dhoni all got between 205-249 runs between them (Karthik, the top scorer got 263). If it was consistency we were looking for, this was it. If everyone was supposed to play their part, this was almost like an assembly line.
India played the same XI for all the Tests. The same bowling attack went after the second ranked team in the World. These were supposedly conditions they were familiar with and we were inexperienced in. And yet, India managed 56 of the 60 English wickets on offer. (Between the RP, Zak and Sreesanth none gave outside of 338-366 runs in the series.) Also there was the lone century maker who chipped in with 14 wickets.
And then the few things that go unsung. The little bits like consistently exploiting Alistair Cook’s tendency to plonk his front foot too far across while facing the ball coming in and finding little variations of the same weakness to get him out each of the six times. Including the one time when leg slip could have got him.The ability to keep bouncing back each time it looked like the other guys had a foothold. When luck or weather lent a hand. Or the opposition stumbled. That special knack of latching on to opportunity.
There was no shortage of controversy either. Umpiring howlers, jelly beans and errant players.
And yet, holding it all together was a skipper. Struggling with form which will surely bother him for he was the lowest scorer of the series amongst the batters (and surely the knives will underline that in blood when we lose next). But this was supposed to be his big test. In response to some ridiculous criticism, he said yesterday that he knew the pulse of his team well and he backed his judgement because thats what he earns his corn for.
In my view, for the pressure of it all – Rahul Dravid was no less the Man of the Series than anyone else was.
You won’t get square at the Oval …
This Oval Test first innings performance is a classic example of what one would like in a batting card. Not just in terms of the consistency, but more importantly because its done exactly what was required. From pace of innings, contributions of all batters, partnerships and contribution to the team cause for the series (and indeed a precursor to the ODI series), its been phenomenal).
Team effort and all that – and although work yet to be completed – but well done everyone.
And in particular – Jumbo and Rahul !
p.s. In Bangalore on this day (not a bad choice of day eh !) and hence the sporadic updates …
My Twenty/20 blur …
Even though I’ll say that I could see the Dhoni appointment coming a while ago, and I’ll even give the selectors a bit of credit for it, I’ll admit that the rest of the selections are beyond me.
For the record, this is our squad. MS Dhoni leads and Yuvraj Singh is his deputy. The rest of the team is Virender Sehwag, Harbhajan Singh, Ajit Agarkar, Dinesh Karthik, Gautam Gambhir, Robin Uthappa, Joginder Sharma, Yusuf Pathan, Piyush Chawla, Sreesanth, Irfan Pathan, RP Singh, Rohit Sharma.
I’ll also admit that my understanding of the composition is probably limited by the fact that I haven’t quite come to grips with the excitement of Twenty/20. As of now, to old fashioned me, it has as much to do with cricket as Dr Beat – (I’m not making this up) – is a good mascot for an inaugural World Cup for a new format of a sport.
The King Of The Sports Page …
The thing about Jim Murray is that he lived “happily” but somebody ran off with his “ever after.” It’s like the guy who’s ahead all night at the poker and then ends up bumming cab money home. Or the champ who’s untouched for 14 rounds and then gets KO’d by a pool-hall left you could see coming from Toledo.
Murray is a 750 word column, and 600 of those are laughs and toasts. How many sportswriters do you know who once tossed them back with Bogie? Wined and dined with Marilyn Monroe? Got mail from Brando? How many ever got mentioned in a governor’s state of the state address? Flew in Air Force One? How big is Murray? One time he couldn’t make an awards dinner so he had a sub – Bob Hope.
Murray may not be the most famous sportswriter in history. If not, he’s at least in the photo. What’s your favourite Murray line? At the Indy 500: “Gentlemen, start your coffins”? Or “[Rickey Henderson] has a strike zone the size of Hitler’s heart”? Or that UCLA coach John Wooden was “so square, he was divisible by four”? How many lines can you remember by any other sportswriter?
His life was all brass rails and roses – until this last bit, that is. The end is all wrong. The scripts got switched. They killed the laugh track, fired the gag writers and spliced in one of those teary endings you see at Cannes. In this one the guy ends up with his old typewriter and some Kodaks and not much else except a job being funny four times a week.
They say that tragedy is easy and comedy is hard. Know what’s harder? Both at once …
ARNOLD Palmer had two of them bronzed. Jack Nicklaus calls them “a breath of fresh air”. Groucho Marx liked them enough to write to him. Bobby Knight once framed one, which is something like getting Billy Graham to spring for drinks. Since 1961, a Jim Murray column in the Los Angeles Times has been quite a wonderful thing. (He’s carried by more than 80 newspapers today and at one time was in more than 150.) Now 66, Murray has been cranking out the best written sports column this side (some say that side) of Red Smith. But if a Smith column was like sitting around Toots Shor’s and swaping stories over a few beers, a Murray column is the floor show, a setup line and a rim shot, a corner of the sports section where a fighter doesn’t get beaten up, he becomes “sort of a complicated blood clot.” Where golfers are not athletes, they’re “outdoor pool sharks.” And where Indy is not just a dangerous car race, it’s “the run for the lilies.”
In press boxes Murray would mumble and fuss that he had no angle, sigh heavily and then, when he had finished his column, no mater how good it was, he would always slide back in his chair and say, “Well, fooled ‘em again.”
Murray must have fooled all he people all the time, because in one stretch of 16 years he won the National Sportswriter of the Year award 14 times, including 12 years in a row …
MARILYN Monroe and Murray were having dinner at a Sunset Boulevard restaurant. This was not exactly an AP news flash. Murray was Time magazine’s Hollywood’s reporter from 1950 to ’53 and you could throw a bucket of birdseed in any direction at Chasen’s and not hit anybody who didn’t know him. He had played poker with John Wayne (“he was lousy”), kibitzed with Jack Benny (who gave him an inscribe, solid-gold money clip) and golfed with Bing Crosby (Crosby sent him clippings and column ideas.)
On this particular night, somewhere around dessert, Monroe started looking as if she’d swallowed her napkin. “What’s wrong?” Murray asked.
“Jim,” she said, “would you mind if I left with someone else?”
“Not as long as you introduce me”
“O.K.” She waved to a man across the room, who, sheepishly, made his way to the table. “Jim, I would like you to meet Joe DiMaggio…”
Murray was always a sucker for a pretty face, And in those days, in a town with pink stucco houses and restaurants shaped like brown derbies, every nightclub window was filled with pretty faces. One night, Murray and a cohort were entertaining two of them when Jim went to call his best friend. The friend had good news.
“You know that girl over at the Five Seventy Five Club that you’re always saying melts your heart? The one who plays the piano?”
“Yeah so?” Murray said.
“If you can get over here in the next five minutes, she said she’d like to meet you.”
Murray threw $2 on the table, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. Outside his nightclub buddy caught up with him.
“I’m coming too” he said.
“Why?” Murray asked.
“Because those two girls were mad enough to kill one of us, and it wasn’t going to be you.”
Murray married the girl at the piano, Gerry Brown and theirs was a 38 year old date. Folks say they’ve never seen two people carry on so …
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to die first….,” he wrote in his column on April 3, 1984. “I had my speech all ready. I was going to look into her eyes and tell her something I should have long ago. I was going to tell her : ‘It was a privilege just to have known you.’ I never got to say it. But it was so true.
Toward the end, because of the treatments, Gerry wore a wig. One day, on the way to Palm Springs, they stopped at a coffee shop and for some reason, she wanted a milkshake, the first she’d had since high school. They sat there and had a few laughs. And when they’d stopped laughing, Gery tipped her wig cockeyed for a few more laughs.
Two nights later she got up in the middle of the night and fell; she faded into a coma and stayed there from January through March.
Four times a week Murray would write his column, get an interview at lunch and then spend the rest of his time at the hospital at Gerry’s bedside. Sitting down at the typewriter with sorrow staring back at him was de rigeur for Murray. Through it all – his blindness, the death of his son, Ricky, Gerry’s death – the show went on.
“I have sat down and attempted humour with a broken heart,” he says, “I’ve sat down and attempted humour with every facet of my life in utter chaos ….Carmen was announced. Carmen will be sung.”
What was hard was trying to write over those infernal voices, trying to forget the doctor’s voice on the phone. The first X-rays showed the cancer hadn’t spread. But there had been a mix-up at the radiology clinic, just like in the movies. What in fact had happened was just the opposite. “Sorry,” the doctor said. “The cancer has metastasized”.
The cancer has metastasized.
“The most terrible collection of syllables in the english language,” Murray says.
Gerry died on April 1. That figures. You write punch lines your whole life, and then the last joke is on you …
When this moving tribute by a former colleague and longtime admirer, Rick Reilly was published, Jim Murray was America’s premier sports columnist, a man who left ‘em laughing even as he endured unthinkable losses – April 21, 1986.
Sledge v/s Cutting Edge
Now I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. You won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. Men, all this stuff you’ve heard about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of horse dung. Americans traditionally love to fight. All real Americans, love the sting of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big league ball players, the toughest boxers … Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. I wouldn’t give a hoot in Hell for a man who lost and laughed. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war. Because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans. Now, an army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The Bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post, don’t know anything more about real battle than they do about fornicating. Now we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. You know … My God, I actually pity those poor bastards we’re going up against. My God, I do. We’re not just going to shoot the bastards, we’re going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We’re going to murder those lousy Hun bastards by the bushel. Now some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not you’ll chicken out under fire. Don’t worry about it. I can assure you that you’ll all do your duty. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill their blood, shoot them in the belly. When you put your hand into a bunch of goo, that a moment before was your best friends face, you’ll know what to do. Now there’s another thing I want you to remember. I don’t want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We’re not holding anything, we’ll let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly, and we’re not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We’re going to hold onto him by the nose, and we’re going to kick him in the ass. We’re going to kick the hell out of him all the time, and we’re going to go through him like crap through a goose. Now, there’s one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home, and you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now when you’re sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee, and he asks you, What did you do in the great World War Two? You won’t have to say, Well, I shoveled shit in Louisiana. Alright now, you sons of bitches, you know how I feel. I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into battle anytime, anywhere. That’s all.
That, of course, is a version of the General George S Patton Jr speech. If you read the longer version, its must-win attitude is timeless and applies to virtually every aspect of life. Almost.
Cricket, is not dissimilar to war. Everyone’s playing for pride. And to win. And yet, the difference is that it has a marketing audience. Us.
Ideally, we love our champions clean. Those that reach the pinnacle of greatness with their honour intact and without smudging their respective countries. For thats the idea of sport. The true test of Faster, Higher, Further. The best of the best. The Don. Sir Gary. Sir Richard Hadlee.
Occassionally though, we’ll settle as a spectacle for second best : that fighter who might not always win, but will try till his last drop; even if its without too much principle. And thats when it gets grey. When biases and prejudices come in. Somebody always identifies with him. Everyone has an opinion about Javed Miandad and Steve Waugh.
Everyone that falls within these two categories in varying degrees over time qualifies as our hero. Passes the Patton doctrine, so to speak.
The ones that don’t make it are the ones that don’t perform and are seen by some or all of the marketing audience and/or the players themselves as neither willing to fight nor with the scruples. Or unable to maintain the balance between the two.
In this Trent Bridge Test, a number of players from both sides came close enough to crossing the scruples line. Some came back in the game – performed and fought.
Others will need to step up and do so quite soon. Matt Prior and Sreesanth come to mind.
Palmolive da jawaab – and then some …
Grappled for a while with posting about the Kapil Dev jab at Sachin. How does one call a World Cup winning captain’s judgement “hideous” ? It doesn’t matter. It is.
We should really be getting ready for a standing ovation for the guy. Shame on those who’re concocting reasons to boo.
Anyway, here’s another Brijnath piece… reproduced here in full because apart from the Kapil Dev issue, it asks questions about Sachin’s future, Sreesanth’s present and England’s “aggression”.
Tendulkar Wears Pressure With A Quiet Dignity
There is no truth to the rumour that Sachin Tendulkar has mailed a videotape of his painstakingly-constructed, match-tilting, rudely-interrupted 91 at Trent Bridge to Kapil Dev, with the words “What was that you said about pressure, paaji?” scrawled across the package.
Tendulkar wouldn’t do that. Because he’s too polite. Because if he did, it would mean Kapil’s recent criticism had got to him. Because he’s heard this genius-who-can’t-win-matches stuff more often than Ganguly’s heard that “princely” nonsense which Western journalists imaginatively whip up every time they sight the Bengal player.
Kapil was just nimbly leaping onto a crumbling old bandwagon recently with his doubting of the extent of Tendulkar’s talent. After 37 Test centuries, and 11,000-plus runs, this “question mark” over Sachin is tedious. We can hurl stats, for and against the notion, at each other for 10 days running, but it’s hysterical to suggest that “Tendulkar should start taking the pressure”.
Has Tendulkar ‘not’ taken the pressure? Have these 18 years of staying sane and performing as a nation howls for runs been just, you know, a stroll in a Bandra park? Was all that rescuing of India, all those forgotten years ago, when opponents used to say, openly, “Get Tendu out and India’s shoulders droop”, no big deal? Damn, he ate a pressure for breakfast Tiger Woods would have choked on.
Time has flown
But this is partially Tendulkar’s fault. People forget the player he was because they see the player he is. Time has flown and his majesty in the mid-1990s unscrolls in the mind like a fuzzy, hiccuping videotape. The clearer picture is not of the warrior rising amidst a Sharjah dust-storm, but of a man being beaten outside off by a bowler he’d have once dismissed into retirement. The longer he looks mortal the more room he gives former players to unkindly dissect his legend.
Priestly discipline
Still, Tendulkar’s innings in Trent Bridge was stirring. It showed what he can’t do, but also what he can. If his command was absent, his discipline was priestly. His face told us nothing of the wars in his mind, for he is an old pro who gives nothing away. He was beaten, he took guard, he played on, pure in his mission, refusing to bend to an instinct to lash out.
India needed patience and, cocooned in concentration, he did not let India down.
How vital the century that never came was for him, how keenly he required the validation of three figures, was evident in his reaction. After 139 Tests, he is old friends with the dubious decision, but his innate courteousness has meant he swallows injustices and moves on. It’s the only way he knows how to play cricket. But this time he staged a gentle, two-second dharna of disbelief at the crease. An ageing hero, who is in the middle of that awkward journey when the next cen tury is no longer a case of “when” but “if”, was hurting.
Tendulkar has not merely worn pressure, but done so with a quiet dignity. Indeed, an entire generation of players, from Dravid to Kumble, has ensured that India, for all its other cricketing excesses, has a reputation for on-field decency. And young Sreesanth must not be allowed to tarnish it. There is room in sport for the colourful and the eccentric but none for shoulder charging and constant mouthing off. It is no good if you can neither bowl, nor behave.
Hosts are confused
No doubt the English have shown the Indians inadequate respect, but it is because the hosts are confused. Some bizarre metamorphosis has occurred in the dressing room wherein the English now think they are Australian, and believe mental disintegration is achieved by throwing jelly beans on a crease. John Buchanan must be aching with laughter at England’s interpretation of aggressive cricket.
But it is immaterial if the hosts started the unpleasantness, for India must always demand a higher standard of itself. And only an insecure team needs to respond in kind just to prove that it won’t be pushed around. The only worthy response from India should come through a resolute performance, in refusing to disintegrate or be distracted. As England will confirm today, nothing stings quite like defeat.
Victory at Trent Bridge …
Luck with the toss and day one conditions notwithstanding (England had the same advantage at Lords), India were comprehensively the better side at Trent Bridge.
Whats worrisome for England is that the weak links from Lords – Bell, Prior and the lower batting order – have stayed weak and a few others have been exposed. The bowling is not quite in the league that the conditions at Lords led them to believe. India’s openers ahead of the fab four (fallible four) got a 147 run start after England got 198. And then almost everyone else got a measure of the bowling.
India’s bowling’s got 40 wickets in two tests for a total of 1133 runs. Thats an average of 283 runs per innings. RP Singh and Zaheer Khan have, at various times, in the series so far, stood up and delivered when its mattered and thats made the difference.
A word about Rahul Dravid. Ahead of this series, without a coach, this was called his big test. He’s fumbled at press conferences apparently, – called Kumble “Harbhajan” – and struggled with the bat (now the only guy in the top 7 without a fifty) – but we’ve won in Ireland and now, we’re going into the last Test leading 1-0.
We’ve been in this situation before – in South Africa – and as I write this – I see that the celebrations are a lot more subdued than they were after the first Test win there. And just as well. Since there is yet a job to complete.
Well done !
Tough, Tougher, Taufel …
Most traders have (and live) a “losing positions” nightmare. This is roughly how mine goes.
old jeans – hole in pocket(s) – i don’t realize – i put sand in a pocket- it goes down my leg to my ankles – what do i do ? – i put more sand – its now up to my knees – more sand – up to my waist -gee, cramping my style – c’mon, put a bit more – its gotta find a way – oh dear, chest – i’ve got to find a way to make it stay – oops – neck- gasp!
Anyone in a job that’s evaluated on a constant basis probably faces such moments.
I reckon Simon Taufel had his Old Jeans moment at Lords when Kevin Pietersen was recalled. And its just been more and more sand since in an effort to make the moments gone look better …
Its probably a psychologists delight. Or maybe its just my idle mind. But think about it – the big guy makes a mistake on the big stage with the big star’s wicket. Thats all it is. Thereafter the mind takes over. The pressure to undo a mistake is probably the best disguise that bias puts on. Not a bias towards a side though – but to make a decision. A big decision.
Suffice to say that Simon Taufel has made three big mistakes since : Rahul Dravid, Sachin Tendulkar and Saurav Ganguly.
The fab four and our fickleness…
Its not a prompt start to the Trent Bridge Test and sure enough the discussions wander off to the topic thats always kept on simmer these days. The fab four.
Ten days ago, just ahead of the Lords Test they were singing praises of Sachin Tendulkar again, for instance. ‘The Second Bradman says Tony Greig’ kind of features were on Cricinfo. And they’ll probably be back if he gets a century in the next few days.
But leave aside the noise and try and listen to some serious voices out there. Like this piece by Peter Roebuck in the Sportstar last week.
After years of relative stability, the time is ripe for the emergence of a new brigade of Indian batsmen.
Nor will it be sufficient to slash a few timely runs in fifty-over matches, let alone the twenty-over frivolities currently not so much capturing the imagination as amusing the brain. Despite the crowds and the razzmatazz that accompanies the shorter versions of the game, Test cricket remains the measure of a batsman. Everyone in the game acknowledges this harsh reality. Greatness can only emerge when it is demanded. Pleasure is not to be mistaken for fulfilment. Aspirants must confront this inconvenient truth. No batsman has proved himself till he has prospered for a sustained period in the five-day maelstrom.Beyond argument India will presently need a new breed of batsmen and it’s no use expecting to find another Sachin Tendulkar. Batsmen of that calibre come along once in a hundred years. Nor is it wise to expect youth to match Rahul Dravid or Sourav Ganguly or V. V. S. Laxman or even Virender Sehwag because these players have been exceptional. Moreover they were the last of their generation, the last products of old, educated, middle-class mainstream Indian cricket, sophisticated, relaxed, proud, combining the best of past and present, east and west. Rather it is a question of uncovering a new bunch of forceful characters. Most likely they will be from the raw parts of the domain.Strong teams are full of distinctive performers.
In the past few seasons numerous players have been introduced into the Test team. Some have stayed long enough to make an impression, others have vanished as quickly as a shadow on a cloudy day. Some waited a long time for a chance, others were chosen before shaving became a daily requirement. None has made himself indispensable. All have been caught midway between the thought and the execution. Accordingly the old guard has repeatedly been recalled.
Unsurprisingly the inability of emerging batsmen to secure regular places in the five-day outfit has provoked concern about the prospects once the tried and trusted put down their willows. Everyone has watched with dismay the painful decline of the West Indies. Anxious to avoid such deterioration, India has given promising players a chance to play alongside the veterans but it has not really worked.
None of the newcomers can be put alongside Michael Clarke or Alastair Cook. What price a young batsman unable to prosper in the protection provided by the most prolific batting order in Indian history?
And yet the protection may partly explain the failures. Every young cricketer worth a rupee yearns for responsibility. Growing plants need light. Not even the most encouraging words can convince a novice listed alongside Tendulkar and Dravid that he matters as much as them.
Moreover India reveres its sporting gods. Not easy for a promising lad to join his heroes and to regard himself as an equal.Eventually the senior men will go and then the flame will pass to the next generation. Probably those immersed in underperformance these last few seasons will remain the same because failure grips the soul, becomes habitual.
Hope rests with still incomplete and underexposed batsmen, including precocious teenagers, a group more easily found in less hierarchical lands.
Although the outlook may appear bleak, all is not lost. India has a wealth of talent, a functioning democracy, a growing economy and an enduring devotion to the game. Inevitably the outstanding batsmen of the last 15 years will be missed but their departure may hasten the maturing of hitherto obscure successors.
The argument is fine. And the whole idea about continuity is nice too. But life is not that easy. Not even when its a simple game like cricket. Definitely not when its a game like cricket.
The truth is : There are no easy answers.
Does the existence of the ICL enter the picture at all? Would the BCCI sack, say Sachin Tendulkar, and risk that he joins Lara, Warne, Mcgrath and Fleming at the ICL ? Would they risk compromising a revenue stream? Is there a big picture cricket vision in there that allows such steps? Would they do it with 4 such middle order bats? Who would you watch? Are you sure?
And so to Robin Hood Land …
The Lords Test is over. Let there be light !
In my opinion, neither side quite knows what to take away from the sun and rain of London. If the English believe that the bowling was on par with what they had dished during the Ashes of 2005, I strongly suggest they look again (At the Ashes, ideally – for that was outstanding Test cricket.). The bowling was good – but the expectations being low helped. No only did the English not look forward to their bowlers delivering much, the Indian batters did not have much to go by either. Additionally, England had the better conditions to play the game with. For four days and almost two sessions. On the batting front, I still reckon that the first innings difference in attitude was the key. It got accentuated by a couple of things. The Indian bowling on day one (highlighted by the easier conditions) and Kevin Pietersen’s brilliance on Day 4. India’s batting has got a fair amount of stick – not the least for its inability to put up partnerships and thats the part that they will look to correct in the rest of the series. Notwithstanding the fact that England showed the more positive intent in the batting stakes though and have statistically the better averages (amazingly! – and how they lie) among the batters, its clearly where India has the advantage and need to express it. Not being positive is not the answer.
Trent Bridge has a myriad history and you’ll find a few sources that will detail where various strengths lie. As the Lord’s Test showed though, history doesn’t count for much either from a pitch behaviour point of view or indeed from a relative performances perspective. I remember it as the venue where England won the Test that swung it in their favour in the Ashes 2005. First time in 191 Tests that Australia followed on. Then England chased 125 to win and nearly choked with Ashley Giles and Matthew Hoggard taking them over the line…
Its expected that both sides go in unchanged. Both flattered to believe at Lords.
Wearing and changing gear …
Just about the start of day 3 of the first Test.
A nervous start to the game – not that its acceptable by virtue of the fact that its been the norm – with the bowlers being guilty of a poor first day. Then a great comeback. So 268/4 at the end of day 1 becomes 298 all out. Equally importantly, in that was 218/1 at one stage and from there England’s strong suit – its batting had its bluff called. Largely by India’s supposedly weak hand – its inexperienced seam attack.
As things stand this morning, we’re 145/4 in 57 overs. 153 behind. And the strong suit – the Indian batting lineup – needs to stand up and deliver. So far – at 2.5ish per over its been iffy. There was an opportunity to put the English under pressure and it has been dealt with timidly. We’re 27 overs away from the next new ball with a nightwatchman at the crease.
Things like Jaffer playing as slowly as he did after his 50 and slipping back into first gear with time to go for stumps is not the way to go. Its being picky – but they’re things first Tests are made of. So far, the strong hand has been shaky on the big stage.
Today’s sessions provide the batsmen the chance to undo yesterday’s nerves. Like the bowlers did on Day 2. Will they?
Managing a Clean Slate ..
Everyone knows what this photograph is about. Whats less commonly known, perhaps, is that coming into the “final frontier” series, Michael Slater was grappling with a bipolar disorder. That bit is true. Its also true that he was also going through trouble (and ultimate breakup) in his marriage. There was also a bunch of tripe that was questioning his integrity. Like he was asked by Malcolm Speed of Cricket Australia and the ICC ahead of the tour about rumours about a cocaine addiction. (“You go back to your so-called reliable source and tell him he’s not so reliable. Drugs have never been a part of my life, will never be a part of my life. It’s just something I will never stand for.“) And there was an awful, vicious rumour that he was the father of Adam Gilchrist’s child.
And then, in the heat of the contest, somebody had “sufficient doubt” to question his integrity about a catch. Something snapped…
Australia, of course failed to cross the final frontier and in August that year just ahead of the last Test of the Ashes, Steve Waugh abruptly dropped Michael Slater. Justin Langer was the makeshift replacement and never looked back. But more of that later…
[As an aside, do read the Peter English piece on the Slater story here . ]
Somewhere, in Steve Waugh’s book Out Of My Comfort Zone, you’d get the impression of Waugh being maybe a bit cheesed off with Slats. A bit impatient, or losing patience with a man craving patience maybe? Judge for yourself.
” What also was only a matter of time was Michael Slater being involved in an incident. With his marriage apparently in trouble, Slats was struggling to find a clear direction and had strayed from his normal means of preparation. Greatly exacerbating the problem was the fact that no one in the touring party was trained to handle personal difficulties of this nature. I tried my best to keep things under control, even speaking to Board officials about getting professional help, but with everyone’s lives so busy and the guy in question denying any problems, life went on. Slats’ personal problems were brewing, however, and unbeknown to me at the time he was also suffering a medical condition that was related to an injury he’d suffered at the Australian Cricket Academy many years before and required ongoing medication.
During India’s second innings, Rahul Dravid scooped one out in Slats’ direction at midwicket, but it was difficult to see whether a catch had been made. Slats claimed it, but the days when any fielder’s word was taken as true were gone and umpire Venkat referred the matter to the third umpire, who ave the benefit of doubt to the batsman. Slats saw this as his integrity being questioned, and the time bomb ticked its final second. He blew up at the perceived injustice, and his personal stresses spilled out in a messy tirade that involved finger pointing and an out-of-control plea for justice. It was the last thing I wanted to see, particularly as we’d regularly talked about our on-field behaviour and wanted to change the long held perception of many that we were ‘ugly’. Slats’ performance was unacceptable and selfish, as he let his personal emotions overrule the team’s ethics and standards. I was torn between physically pulling him away – which may have led to real ugliness – or yelling at him to get out of there. I opted for the latter, but my order fell on deaf ears and I was left holding the baby. As his friend and the captain I was willing to wear the consequences to a certain extent, but if I had my time again, maybe I would have risked manhandling him out of the confrontation.
One of the problems with such an incident is that when it happens it’s over very quickly – in this case around 30 seconds – but with continuous replays, many of them in slow motion, reality gets distorted and the ramifications grow. The bottom line was that I was in charge of the team and on this occasion, in trying to to protect a guy on the edge and manage a situation in the best way possible, I was derelict in my duty to protect the image of the game.
The match referee, Cammie Smith from the Wes Indies, showed sympathy by letting Slats off with a censure and a severe warning. It was a decision we welcomed, but one that put into question the inconsistencies of the system when penalising players who stepped out of line. This was an area Time May, as ACA boss, and I had often talked about. We believed there needed to be a uniform penalty for clearly defined breaches so that everyone knew the consequences when they did the wrong thing, and therefore couldn’t claim bias when they were punished. On this occasion, after handing down his compassionate verdict, Cammie Smith clearly stated to Slats, Buck, manager Steve Bernard and me that the matter was closed and not for public discussion.
The Test ended in a stunning 10-wicket win for us, even though for a long time it seemed the game could go either way. We had the knack of winning. Straight afterwards, Slats went on Australian radio to discuss the Test. The ‘incident’ came up and he said he’d done nothing wrong. Cammie Smith was so incensed by this thathe immediately informed us that Slats now had a one-Test ban for his comments. It took an emergency meeting a few days after the Test, at the Taj Hotel in Kolkata, to sway Cammie from making Slats the first international cricketer to miss a Test due to a suspension earnt in a Test match. Steve Bernard and I argued that such a ban would be a stigma Slats would have to bear for the rest of his playing days and that his behaviour had been out of character. Slats remained unrepentant and felt hard done by, and I’m sure he was only saved by our pleading and well conveyed sentiments. Cammie eventually changed his mind and issued a one-match ban suspended for six months and a loss of half a match fee. It was as good a result as we could have imagined., yet Slats didn’t then thank the referee for his leniency or us for our efforts. He just left the room without uttering a word.”
About six months later, at the last of the Ashes tests …
Days later Gilly and I, as selectors, had to concur when the ordinary form and negative attitude of Michael Slater could no longer be ignored. Technically Slats was permanently on the move at the crease, which caused his balance to be poor and his head position to be out of line, and his head position to be exaggerated and loose. In his prime, Michael had a pristine technique that was tight in defence and expansive in attack, but the longer this series went on the more he was ‘going fishing’ outside off stump, a dead giveaway of poor form. Just as concerning was him missing a bus to training and numerous reports of his lack of professional behaviour. A rebellious streak had taken over, causing his teammates to tread on eggshells around him. Excuses impeded reasoning, and the fault was always someone else’s. It was time for a change. Gilly and I were in total agreement, but we knew it would be tricky communicating our concerns to Trevor Hohns on the other side of the world.
The result wwas an animated three way phone hook-up, with the chairman of selectors pushing for a stay of execution , suggesting there was no need to make a change at this time. Besides, he added, the selectors had only picked two opening batsmen for the tour. This was a red-rag-to-a-bull stuff and I countered strongly, ‘You aren’t here! The change needs to happen and it should be now, not in a few weeks’ time at the start of our home season. Secondly, you guys didn’t pick an extra opener, not me. And in Justin Langer we have a guy who will do a great job.’
In the end, it was 2-1 against Slats. With hindsight, I might have been a little assertive in my views, but I knew, as did most of the guys, that the change would be in the best interests of team harmony.
Telling Slats was the toughest part, and the next morning I asked Steve Bernard to come with me to back me up when we talked about the disciplinary issues and make sure it went okay so we could all move along as a group afterwards and be in harmony if the press tried to make an issue of the decision. But the meeting didn’t last long, with a shocked Mick getting up and exiting the room with, ‘You can all go and get fucked!’
The situation didn’t get much better at training later that day when I thought that the team learn of Slats’ axing direct from me as a sin of respect to him and to clear the obviously edgy atmosphere. But halfway through my attempt, Slats cut me off and said, ‘Come on, Tugga, tell them the real reason why I got dropped.’
To which I replied, ‘If you’d bothered to stay and hear me out [this morning], you would know.’
Thankfully, Lang jumped in and settled things down with a heartfelt spiel on how we should never take the baggy green for granted because we never know when we might be wearing it for the last time. That was the last we saw of Slats for the session – he walked off and went back to the team hotel.
In his autobiography, Michael Slater’s view is that he was furious that Waugh offered no reason when he informed the rest of the team of Slater’s omission. He felt that the team ought to know the real reason behind his sacking. At this juncture, Adam Gilchrist asked Slater to keep quiet, saying his behaviour was not in the best interests of the team as they were preparing for a Test .
Gilchrist’s reaction shocked Slater into silence and he left as he was too upset to complete the training session that was underway. Slater mentions that Matthew Hayden and Shane Warne offered him consolation. Admitting that while Waugh’s mental toughness was incomparable, Slater said that he, and others, often felt uncomfortable in Waugh’s presence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The point of a long post on Slater – and the series on Waugh’s questionables (sledging , the Slater issue and one could yet go into the text of the Mcgrath – Sarwan issue or the Lara- Waugh slanging match – or the horrible rumours about the Chris Cairns sledge) was / is because there is so much available on the guy. And because he’s managed such a successful lot of people under so much scrutiny and he’s kept a log. It provides great insight even if its often biased by his own prejudices as this must be. And it gives a view into the workings of a successful outfit. And sometimes, as in this case, some of the failures within it.
Here is Slater’s view 4 years after it all on Steve Waugh. Time heals and yet it does not.
Dropping Slater and promoting Langer was that great gamble that worked and was one of the many strokes of luck Steve Waugh had. Or was it great foresight. The fair answer is probably a bit of both ?
Don’t cuss me, man.
“To me, Curtly Ambrose was the supreme fast-bowling machine. He moved, with the ease and grace of a champion athlete across the ground, was beautifully balanced and coordinated, and could blast you out with pace if needed or revert to strategic assault. As well, he owned the trait everyone wants but few possess : the gift of being able to shift that extra gear when needed. His calling card when he thought he had you plumb lbw was a double clap of the hands that was as reliable as the umpire’s finger going up. He detested singles off his bowling, believing the prey had escaped his clutches.
The icing on the cake for Amby was his imposing physical presence – legs like stilts, arms that never seemed to end and pouting lips that looked like they’d been stung by a swarm of bees. When he stood couple of feet away giving me his Clint Eastwood glare, I had the feeling he could take me down at any stage but still wasn’t sure which of his weapons he would employ to do the job.”
As Australia headed into the third Test in Port of Spain, they had a 1-0 lead – meaning they were on the edge of winning their first series in West Indies for two decades. None of the West Indians was feeling grimmer than big Curtly Ambrose, the fearsome fast bowler who had shown up in batsmen’s worst nightmares from London to Lahore, Sydney to Sri Lanka. Ambrose was an enormous man who always looked a little aggrieved, and as if someone was going to pay for it. He had been treated rather cavalierly by the Australian batsmen in the series to date, and some were even whispering insultingly that maybe it was time for him to retire.
Here at Port-of-Spain though, by God, Curtly’s view was that things wre going to be different. Here the slippery and treacherous green-top pitch was perfect for the likes of him, and hell on earth for the wretched Australians who had been so uppity of late. After just a few overs the tourists were reeling at 3/14, when that punk Steve Waugh comes in. You have to imagine the scene…
As the Australian makes his way to the centre, amid all the searing heat and the West Indian whistling and so forth Curtly stands at the bowler’s mark, glowering, waiting for Waugh to come and get his medicine. The ground settles down, focusing on the two principal combatants. By an uncanny coincidence, Waugh’s physical dimensions are almost a dead ringer for the dimensions of Curtly’s left leg, and it hardly seems fair as the enormous West Indian powers in and begins peppering Waugh with an extraordinary array of bouncers.
But Waugh isn’t playing that game any more. He just isn’t interested in swatting at bouncers and is quite happy to simply defend his wicket and wait for the loose balls, which he knows must inevitably come. Many times the ball crashes into Waugh’s body, onto his torso, arms and hands, but he neither winces nor whinges…..
Nothing could have infuriated the mighty Ambrose more. After such a good beginning for the Windies, it was outrageous that Waugh just shut shop like that and before long Big Curtly has simply had enough.
“As soon as quicks see encouragement from a pitch, the intensity levels immediately lift, and on this minefield we were trying to avoid being detonated. For a batsman to survive and ultimately score runs on this type of pitch he must have a component of luck because it is only a matter of time before a ball either beats the outside edge or brushes against it.Luck favoured me early on, especially against Ambrose, who cut me in half with one delivery and forced me to jab at the next ball as it deviated away from the outside edge. With each play and miss, he would pull up just in front of me and glare; it was as if he thought I was purposely taunting his efforts.
For me, a volcano of emotions was brewing : frustration at my inability to get on top of the situation, anger at the booing that had greeted my arrival at the crease, irritation after a restless night’s sleep and now Amby’s bloody stare. A steepling bouncer that flew harmlessly over the top of my head was almost a relief, because it didn’t pose a danger, so when I saw Ambrose staring intently at close quarters, I snapped back at him :
“What the fuck are you looking at ?”
This was a clear case of the mouth beating the brain to the punch. It was what I was thinking, but saying it took even me by surprise. It was pure instinct, as my survival mechanism took over. I wasn’t going to stand there and cop physical intimidation while he was making a mockery of me with the ball and his gestures. It was fightback time. It was also, realistically, my last resort to get some impetus into my innings.
Ambrose was clearly stunned, most likely because no one had ever been stupid enough to employ such aggressive measures against him. Furthermore, respect is very important in the Caribbean, and when you swear directly at someone you are not showing them respect. In this culture, profanities are rarely heard.
Amby countered my bar-talk bluff by saying, “Don’t cuss me, man.”
Commonsense should have told me to leave it at that. But I needed to have the last say, to get all the anger out, clear my thoughts and start afresh. Unfortunately, nothing inventive or witty came to mind, rather another piece of personal abuse: “Why don’t you go and get fucked.”
Curtly’s eyes were spinning and the situation had rapidly escalated to the point of total ugliness. Thankfully Richie Richardson stepped in, grabbed his great bowler by the wrist with both hands, and tried to yank him away ‘tug of war’ style.
Of course, Amby didn’t want to back down and and walk away, and I was also past the point of no return. We needed to show the Windies it was our turn to dictate proceedings, and that we weren’t afraid to get in their faces and get our hands dirty. Ego plays a healthy role in this type of stand-off situation; neither of us was willing to lose face by backing away. I was totally unsure what to do if he lunged at me, because I am certain he would have made light work of me even though I had a bat in my hands. I kept saying to myself, Don’t move, don’t move. Look tough, stay focussed. He’ll have to go away.
Eventually he did. However, as he ran in to deliver his next ball, I braced myself for an Exocet missile at the throat. That would be his way of winning the battle. He put in the big ones, striding out to full pace before letting go an absolute scorcher of a bouncer that reared alarmingly off a shortish length and crushed my top hand against the handle of the bat, directly in front of my grill. Such was the venom in the execution that I was a foot of the ground at the time of impact. Again Amby was there, menacingly staring me down but this time my lips were sealed. I’d already smashed the wasp nest open. There was no need t go back and trample on it.
For many players, getting involved in a confrontation is a death sentence for their performance as it consumes their thoughts. The guilt and embarrassment often lead to a loss of clarity, as most players can’t compartmentalise and move on. I didn’t mind this clash with Amby because I knew I could forget about this after using the altercation as motivation to do well. I never minded being the villain, because it set me up against the rest – a scenario that turned me on. Obviously, being the bad guy had the same effect on Curtly, because he finished this innings with 5/45 from 16 overs, while I scrapped, slogged, scampered and stroked my way to one of my finest Test knocks : 63 not out in a team total of 128.
At the end of two and a half days, the game was over. We had been crushed by a proud cricketing dynasty, but at least I could console myself with the fact that I’d scored the only 50 in a game totally dominated by the bowlers …”
G’day mate …
Mandela – Gandhi & the BCCI …
Call it the love of the underdog if you will. Or the sheer amazement that the superpower is the underdog. But I love it when the BCCI wins little battles. Even more when nobody acknowledges the victories.
Make no mistake about it. Its not like the BCCI is above reproach. I just think we sometimes rap them for things they don’t deserve to get slammed about. Particularly when we lose. Its like giving them credit for our victories.
Anyway, it turns out the nouveau riche BCCI which used to get slammed ever so often for their “offshore ODIs” may have won another battle. (And may become nouveau richer in the process.). A number of people criticised Lalit Modi and co for this money making venture. The one I remember most recently and vividly is the Mukul Kesavan – Andrew Miller spat a few days ago. (I am English – pro-Test cricket, anti-ODIs, and all the rest of it – and I am unapologetic about that fact….The BCCI is the most significant national board in the game, and yet it is the most dysfunctional by a distance… And it spends more time arranging abominable offshore ODIs than attending to the needs of the lesser lights in the world game.Take Bangladesh, for instance, who have yet to be invited for a Test tour of India, despite having been a senior nation for seven years now.) That was Andrew Miller. Abominable ODIs ?
Hmmm.
It turns out that South Africa played India in one of those abominable ODI series a couple of weeks ago. It lasted a week. 3 ODIs in Ireland . They reckon they will make more money off that than they will from the combined income of home series against Ne Zealand and West Indies later this year. The New Zealand series is 2 Tests, 1 Twenty/20 and 3 ODIs. West Indies will play South Africa for 3 Tests, 1 Twenty/20 and 5 ODIs. Combined, the South African season against these two sides will start on the 8th of Nov 2007 and they will play the last of the ODIs against the West Indies on the 3rd of Feb 2008. 3 months.
Ahead of those series, South Africa will host the next big thing in the game. The World Cup for Twenty/20. Last year, India had toured South Africa. As per Gerald Majola of Cricket South Africa, “Our major income source is international television money. Last season, when India toured here, we had a fantastic year. This year, however, things will not be as good.CSA had earned 140 million rand (approximately $20 million) from the sales of television rights during the past financial year and indications are that it would receive only 18 million rand (approximately $2.5 million) in the coming financial year.”
Solution ? Majola says negotiations are on for an annual ODI series.
Mandela-Gandhi trophy.
Hardly abominable that.
May the best man win …
Michael Jordan takes on the Knicks
History is now also his story …
Out on a sunny Centre Court enter two men that are different. As different as red clay is to green grass. So different you’d think they were from different planets or at least different eras. And yet both here chase similar dreams – Emulate Bjorn Borg.
Roger Federer, white pants, white vest and white monogrammed blazer with gold trim – like a Swiss banker headed for a club game – and in the process become only the second to win five consecutive Wimbledons.
Rafael Nadal, in a white kneelength thingy, and a white sleeveless t-shirt which displays bulging biceps , like a Spanish fighter aiming to become the only man to win the French and Wimbledon in the same year since Borg.
Bjorn Borg sits in the first row of the Royal Box next to Manolo Santana, the last Spaniard to win Wimbledon, in 1966. They have come to see which player on the court below would join them in the record book.
As has been mentioned on this blog before, this was Federer’s to lose… Not because Nadal’s weakest surface is grass. For that is a myth. The truth is Rafa’s only managed a quarterfinal as his best result at the hard courts of the Australian Open. And that’s also as far as he’s gone at the US Open too (in 2006). This, of course was his second final at Wimbledon. This was Federer’s to lose because he’d won the previous four. And the last time he’d lost anywhere on grass was five years ago.
But all that changes with one simple fact. And thats the Rafa ghost in Roger Federer’s head. A left handed ghost. Ahead of the finals, Roger Federer looked around for someone he could knock a few balls with. A warmup on finals Sunday. He turned to Goran Ivanisevic. There simply were not that many choices. After Nadal, the next left handed player is Jarkko Nieminen from Finland – with a 19-16 record for the year. He’s ranked 23. (The difference in ATP points between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal would make Roger #9 in the world today.)
For a long time in yesterday’s match, the Swiss banker got things he was not used to. Often, too often, every high quality transaction was returned. With interest. Andre Agassi, once asked to compare Federer and Sampras said, “There’s nowhere to go when you play Roger”. For Nadal, there is no lost cause. He was making difficult shots. And then, he was making impossible shots while on his backside. It was said that for Roger to lose at Wimbledon, somebody would have to play the match of their lives and Roger would need to have an off day. Well, Roger didn’t have an off day…
In the fourth set, he went down 0-4, questioned a line call, used a four letter word, (Shit, I can’t believe that was called in. Look at the score. That thing is killing me.), asked for Hawkeye to be switched off and generally did a lot of things which were not Roger. Out-duelled and at 2 sets all, it went into the fifth with the momentum clearly with Rafa.
Falling back 15-40 in his first two service games, Federer struggled but hung in there mostly with strong, timely serves. And then. And then it happened : so swift it was hard to believe.
Federer captured the game by means of a sudden explosion of pure and unadulterated brilliance. Playing what might be the finest tennis of his life, and from absolutely nowhere, he ripped Nadal’s service apart. A running forehand pass, an outlandish flip to the corner, and then a miraculous rally.
All of a sudden, Federer was home, and the history boy was saluting Björn Borg, knowing that five Wimbledon championships in a row put him unequivocally in the category of the all-time great. Nadal did his best to spoil it, for that is his job, but it was was Federer’s day, just as it has been Federer’s half-decade.
The match was closer than the Wimbledon final a year ago, when Federer defeated Nadal in four sets.
The two have combined to win 10 consecutive men’s Grand Slam singles titles, dating from the 2005 French Open: Nadal has won three straight French Opens, and Federer has won everywhere else. They have met in the last two French Open and Wimbledon finals, and each has nudged closer to winning a title on the other’s favorite surface.
Roger Federer was gracious enough to call it luck. And to say – at the net to Rafa – that it could have been anyone’s match. But the fact is and history will show, that it was Roger’s.
And thats all that matters.
The Venus Rosewater Dish …
Seriously, thats what the Wimbledon Women’s trophy is called.
The one that Venus Williams is deservedly holding.
All this she did, as she quashed young (“My dad used to put up some targets, if I touched the targets, I get candy. So I was very motivated. Maybe that’s why I’m still loving too much the candies. But whatever.”) Marion Bartoli at Wimbledon last night.
In so doing, she also quashed the rankings system. Williams was seeded 23rd here at Wimbledon [and although Bartoli (who'd beaten Henin on the way to Saturday) said Venus was World no 1 on grass ] and was actually ranked 31st in the world. Sandwiched between -you know these names – Francesca Schiavone and Olga Poutchkova (zero career singles titles between them), and stuck behind women from 16 other countries, including 3 from Italy, which has never had anyone win Wimbledon.
But thats looking at it from the wrong end.
Yesterday, with her fourth Wimbledon title she joined Billie Jean, Martina Navratilova and Steffi Graf in a select band. Justice.
Meanwhile, Roger plays Rafa later this evening. What are you doing this Sunday?
07-07-07 ; The Tour De Force
Its a great day. Possibly the toughest sporting event of them all, the Tour de France flags off today. Different each time. Yet similar in its 23 days. And its unflinching demand. If you don’t believe me click on the link under “Route” and then “Route in a flash” above. 3569.5 km. 1 prologue. 20 stages comprising 11 flat stages, 6 mountain stages, 1 medium mountain range and 2 individual time trial ranges. And just to show that they have heart, 2 rest days through all that.
Lance Armstrong won it seven (that number again) consecutive times.
They should’ve buried Lance Armstrong this time. They had him laid out like a yard sale on a Pyrenees road. Had him sick, white mouth and dizzy …. Had him scabbed and swollen, out of water and luck and hope. But they didn’t bury him. Couldn’t…
Armstrong and his son play a little game. Lance asks Luke, “What does Daddy do?” And Luke always answers, “Daddy makes them suffer.” But this tour was all about Armstrong’s suffering.
Diarrhea to start. Hideous road rash … {and} ripped flesh that made even the doctors’ faces go chalky. Killer hip tendinitis. A pileup during stage I that produced … and 18 inch tire track across his back. It got worse. In the brick oven heat of stage 12, Armstrong miscalculated how much water he would need and became so dehydrated he could barely keep the bike upright. He was dizzy, face beet-red and swollen, eyes bulging, a pasty white ring around his mouth. “That’s as close as I’ve come to just getting off the bike and quitting…”
That was Armstrong on the way to his fifth Tour de France victory.
As he says “Pain is temporary, it may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place.”
Earlier post on Armstrong here.
A Few Good Men …
I eat breakfast three television yards away from four thousand bloggers who are trained to pick me off. So don’t think for one second that you can come down here, flash a bit of cricket knowledge, and make me nervous.
Son, we live in a world that needs money, and that money has to be made by men with the Indian cricket model. Who’s gonna do it? You? Journalists? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for your country and curse the team. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that your country’s loss, while tragic, probably still made the BCCI money. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, makes money. You don’t want the truth – because deep down, in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on those screens. You need me on those screens. We use words like mirrors, retirements, coaches. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to men who rise and sleep under the blanket of the very insightful comments that I provide, and then question the manner in which I provide them! I’d rather you just said “thank you” and went on your way. Otherwise, I’d suggest you pick up a blog host and put up a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to!
Ian Chappell has been signed by ESPN-Star as part of its commentary team called “A Few Good Men” along with his “good friends” Sunil Gavaskar, Ravi Shastri and Wasim Akram.
Col. Jessep’s (played fantastically by Jack Nicholson in the film) original lines here.
Hard punches need Soft Hands …
Luis Sarria made his living with his hands,
as Muhammad Ali’s long term masseur.
From the Sports Illustrated Collection.
Its that pain for gain. Again …
SYDNEY INTERNATIONAL; Serena Williams Stuns Davenport
… (Serena) Williams, only 16 and ranked No. 96, trailed 1-6, 2-5 and faced two match points at 15-40 when she grabbed control with a combination of wily play and youthful athleticism.
Limping on her bandaged right knee after taking an injury timeout at 1-3 in the second set, Williams fashioned a 1-6, 7-5, 7-5 victory by cutting down on the errors that cost her the first set. She suddenly ripped winners down the lines and into the corners from both sides, and watched Davenport dig herself deeper into trouble with double-faults and mistakes.
Australian Open Tennis : Serena overcomes Clijsters and blisters.
“… Serena Williams ultimately fought off two match points and a 1-5 deficit in the third set to keep her now customary date with older sibling, Venus.
…though the top seeded American struggled with her consistency and sought treatment for three blisters on her right foot while trailing 1-2 in the final set, she eventually reminded Clijsters and everybody else, why she is one of the world’s most remarkable athletes.
The crowd in Rod Laver Arena did not like Serena’s decision to take an injury timeout, considering it an attempt to break Clijster’s rhythm. But they would have reacted differently if they had seen the upclose television picture of the burst blister on the ball of her foot.
Final score 6-2, 3-6, 7-5.
Australian Open Tennis : Serena Williams battles to Aussie Title.
Serena Williams staged a remarkable recovery to beat Lindsay Davenport and win her second Australian Open title.
The 2003 champion claimed her seventh Grand Slam title, and her first since Wimbledon in 2003, 2-6 6-3 6-0.
Williams had looked close to quitting with a rib injury when she left the court for treatment after five games.
About that injury itself, here’s a bit from an award winning Medical blog
In the women’s final, Serena Williams (a regular “time out turnaround event” [TOTE] user) was playing against Lindsay Davenport, and losing badly during the first set. Unforced errors, two breaks of serve, and general malaise plagued Serena’s game.
Suddenly, Serena began wincing and stretching on every point, reaching for her chest wall and scowling. Then she called an injury time out. The trainer attended to Serena’s rib cage as Davenport cooled her heels, and her game.
When Serena came back out to play, the TOTE reared its magical head. Serena — showing absolutely no further discomfiture — steamrolled Davenport for the next two sets and walked away with the title. It was a classic TOTE phenomenon.
Serena would later say that she was suffering from “rib dysfunction” and that the trainer “popped it back in,” thus the miraculous recovery. She said:
“I reached for a backhand and I think it tweaked my back out, one of my ribs out”
“I finally decided, ‘OK, why don’t you call for the trainer and see if she can put it back in place?’ She did, and everything worked out”
Problem is that there is no such thing as rib dysfunction and ribs can neither pop out nor in. Evolutionarily, the ribs developed as a solid, unmoving apparatus designed to be a source of order, design, and stability, guarding the delicate Samba dance that goes on beneath their bony framework. If ribs were poppable, there would be dead tennis players littering the grand slam courts — and no one would ever watch!
Injured Serena seals amazing win
Serena Williams, seeded seventh, won the first set easily against Hantuchova, seeded 10th. But Hantuchova broke Williams’s serve early in the second set, and Williams started to feel tightening in her calf.
With the second set at 5-5, between points, Serena Williams suddenly stopped, jolted by pain, like someone who had stepped on a tack.
She looked down at her bulging left calf. She screamed and banged at it three times with her racket, trying to loosen the knot. A trainer arrived and massaged the leg. Williams lay on her side, her face strained in anguish. Her screams echoed through Center Court. Family and friends watched nervously. Richard Williams, her father, stood. Venus uttered, “C’mon, c’mon.”
Serena, pushed by time limits, finally rose and put weight on her left leg. It buckled, and she winced. She tried again. Same result. Tears filled her eyes.
“I’ve never dealt with such pain,” she said later of an injury described as a spasm-induced strain. “I can’t believe I won, really.”
Ten minutes of hushed murmurs in the crowd turned into cheers of encouragement as Williams stood gingerly at the baseline, awaiting Hantuchova’s next serve. It came, and Williams did not budge. The next one was within reach. Williams stiffly returned it into the net, giving Hantuchova a 6-5 lead.
Between games, her lower leg was wrapped in a bandage. Williams served, without her usual power. But a couple of Hantuchova’s returns flew long, and others found the middle of the court, where Williams could reach and return them, flat-footed. Improbably, Williams clinched the game by muscling a 110-mile-an-hour ace, sending the set to a tie breaker.
Hantuchova won the first four points in the race to seven. In the stands, Venus Williams looked to the darkening sky and muttered, “Come on, rain.”
Serena Williams, taking her time on each point, won the next two as a little drizzle turned into a shower. Richard Williams stood and pointed to the sky.
The match was suspended, and some boos, rarely heard here, rained from the stands. The match resumed about two hours later, in the early evening. Williams wore cropped pants and appeared to have both legs wrapped in bandages underneath.
After Hantuchova won three consecutive points to capture the second set, the players held serve. One set all. 2-2. Hantuchova appeared to have the upper hand. Williams asked for a loo break. They had been on court 20 minutes. The umpire refused. Williams broke Hantuchova that next game. Experience at Centre Court is a huge plus. At the changeover, the umpire offered Williams the loo break. No, thanks – she says and proceeds to wrap up the match.
Serena Williams won. But did she really ?
Could you teach us how to win ? …
Graham Arnold is coach to the Australian Socceroos. Apart from having played in 4 World Cup campaigns, he’s been assistant coach to the Aussie team when they were being coached by Guus Hiddink. Oh, and he’s also played a bit of cricket. Sydney grade. With a guy called Steve Waugh.
Steve Waugh’s done a few World Cup campaigns of his own. And when he was younger, played soccer with former NSL club Sydney Croatia and was good enough to win a place in an Australian schoolboys representative team.
No big deal.
Then, this happened.
There was this big hue and cry about Australia playing the Asian championships. How could they ? And even if they did , how would they manage the July heat of Singapore and Bangkok and Malaysia ? And the crazier football (not soccer) crowds of the heart of Asia. And the intrusive media.
The idea of drafting Steve Waugh was Arnold’s who had dealt with him a number of times earlier. This was the deal : Waugh was to spend three days with the Socceroos in Singapore where they were to play a friendly (last weekend) as a part of their preperation for the Quarterfinals in Bangkok. Ahead of that, Arnold had already met with Steve Waugh a number of times and implemented a series of “fantastic ideas”…. The desire was simple. Could you please teach us how to win in all conditions?
Steve Waugh’s first impressions, here.
As it turns out, it wasn’t a bad meeting. Singapore were beaten 3-0. Mark Viduka (who’d nearly thrown a spanner in the works by wondering if he should retire – and if he does not , should he stay after the Asian Championships – and was supported by Steve Waugh in that conflict) scored and Waugh suggested they take some time off and take in the sights and sounds of Singapore. It helps he said. Then he left. He’d be back to be with the team for the semifinals and finals, he said. Like that was a given.
And surely he must have gone on about the joys of representing Australia ? That great Baggy Green ?
“I’m not here to motivate the guys and tell them how great it is to play for Australia because if they’re not motivated already, they shouldn’t be here. I’ll be telling this side, get out there and try to take on the other sides and try to be the premier sporting side in Australia. The cricket guys are No1 at the moment, but why not set yourself the goal of trying to emulate what the cricket guys are doing and being the No1 sporting team in Australia? There is the opportunity.”
How about handling the tag of being “favourites” ?
“The thing I learnt playing for Australia was that pressure and expectation is a good thing because people think you’re a good side.”
And the media ?
Waugh encouraged his players to express themselves – providing they could back it up. “There’s nothing wrong with being confident, but once you say things in the press, then you’ve got to back it up on the park,” Waugh said. “Glenn McGrath was a bit of a loose cannon in the press, but I was happy with him saying what he wanted because I knew he would back it up. “There’s nothing wrong with a message saying we’re confident and we expect to do pretty well.”
And the crowds? Its nothing like back home !
“It was a culture shock for me the first time I toured India in 1985-86,” he said. “Back in those days we had a siege mentality when we went to these places. We heard all the horror stories, but it’s about having an open attitude and getting onto the streets and meeting a few people. You break down that mystique then and you are almost playing in front of your home crowd.”
So the message in a nutshell ?
* Pressure and home expectation should be made welcome
* Don’t worry about what you can’t control, like conditions
* You’ve got to back up whatever you tell the press
* Walk the streets and assimilate with locals
* Drink plenty of water and don’t eat spicy foods
* You have a chance to become Australia’s top sports team
The Simple Mantra of Success
So how far will this Soccer thing go with Steve Waugh ?
“I do get a lot of offers to do stuff,” he says “I have a criteria and the two things I ask myself are, ‘Am I passionate about this project or offer and is it a challenge?’ I said yes straight away because I love soccer and it’s great to get involved in a different sport and have an impact with different players. I am passionate about this.”
“I don’t know where it’s going to lead but [I will] just see how it goes. I like things that take me out of my comfort zone, that test me.”
Well sir , there is this one other job where we’d like the winning habit …
The Irish Punt …
Am not sure why one reads of this little tour being a waste of time. And that too by some pretty astute thinkers of the game whose thought process one imagines reflects that of the team. Or is it the BCCI ? Aren’t they supposed to be the same ? I digress …
I thought the whole idea was to try and get as used to the conditions as possible. We want that in Australia, so surely we want that in England as well ? And if that means a bit of money for the BCCI alongside (because lets be honest, that was the primary reason), then so much the better. Its pretty rare that everyone’s happy…
It did not start off very well though. 8 guys falling ill. Shivlal Yadav’s whats-his-name-son being called in, just in case we struggled to get 11 on the field. Robin Singh and Venky Prasad maybe. Chandu Borde? (Tell me I’m not the only one who thought along those lines.)
Seriously though, I think we’ve done pretty well. Even in that one game we lost, I think we were clever enough to extract as much as could out of it. And ultimately we’ve beaten – on neutral ground – but away from home, the No 2 ranked team. And while we’ve done that we’ve seemed the better outfit.
As with all things looked minutely, some of Rahul Dravid’s gambles have not come off. The most obvious being Gautam Gambhir. If Dinesh Karthik and Wasim Jaffer are the preset openers for the Test series, then Uthapa not getting a game while Gambhir and Rohit Sharma get them is one of those things where every plan does not work and for which there are no ready answers. The one big plan which has worked is Sachin Tendulkar. As has been mentioned here before, Rahul Dravid’s had the guts to step out of the Greg Chappell shadow and give Sachin Tendulkar what he has been asking for. [Sanath Jayasuriya is the second highest run getter in ODIs (12,032) and Sachin's tally as opener alone (11,935)] The response has been strong and sincere.
Even with the Gambhir gambit failing, the batting, on which much of the summer’s success will depend, has delivered when its mattered. Yuvraj’s been there finishing off games just the way he used to when we had that 17 chase run. Rahul Dravid’s been there in two of the three games. As usual, unsung.
The bowling is the one that will have a new look going into England and so thats an area one can’t read too much into. But all told, the start has been good.
Maybe its time for all those people that called for mirrors and retirements to worry about being rash. Swallow a few insults they hurled maybe.
March seems a long time ago. One swallow though, won’t make the summer.
Play it again, Sam …
Its in every newspaper I guess, but loved the photograph so here it is.
Sam Alexis Woods.
12 Majors. 79 Professional wins in all.
As the line in the movie goes :
I’m so excited, I think I’ll brush all my teeth today!
The Grass is Greener There …
You could get ground into the red clay at the French Open like Pete Sampras did (one semi-final in 13 attempts. 3rd Round-2nd Round-2nd Round-1st Round-2nd Round-1st Round – his last six attempts there) but 7 Wimbledons (and 5 US Opens & 2 Australian Opens) and an unquestioned all-time great was right there.
Or you could be like Bjorn Borg. 11 Grand Slams. 5 consecutive Wimbledons. 6 French Opens. 3 of those years when he won both. Most of those years he was also in the finals of the US Open. Never visited Australia though, apart from the once when he lost in the third round. Said he’d only travel that far if it gave him a chance to win the Grand Slam. (The Australian Open used to be the last of the slams those days). He didn’t ever win the US Open and so he did not go to Australia. Doesn’t matter. Bjorn Borg’s picture is in the dictionary of Tennis under “Achievements”.
Ivan Lendl. Most Grand Slam finals in the history of tennis (19). Winner of 222 Grand Slam Singles matches (third after Connors and Agassi). Eight consecutive singles finals at the US Open of which he won three in a row. (Lendl had all but defected to the United States. Its a measure of the man and his highly meticulous and intensive training and physical conditioning regime, his scientific approach to preparing for and playing a game, and a strong desire to put in whatever it took to be successful, that he hired the same workers who laid the hardcourt surfaces at Flushing Meadows each year to install an exact copy in the grounds of his home in Greenwich, Connecticut). All that though, added up to 8 Grand Slam trophies. 3 French Opens, 3 US Opens and 2 Australian Opens. But no Wimbledon. And arguably, thats what Ivan Lendl is most remembered for. That one title that escaped the grasp of the ultimate overachiever. That one statement of a jilted lover – “Grass is for cows” …
The Aura of Wimbledon …
Boris Becker recounts …
I’m serving for the championship. Five steps to the baseline. My arm is getting heavy, wobbly. I look at my feet and almost stumble. My body starts to shake violently. I feel I could lose all control. I’m standing at the same baseline from where I served 1-0 in the first set. 5-4; the end is getting nearer. I have to find a way to get these four points home.
My opponent, Kevin Curren, piles on the pressure. 0-15. 15 all. 30-15. 40-15. I want, want, want victory. I look only at my feet, at my racket. I don’t hear a thing. I’m trying to keep control. Breathe in. Serve. Like a parachute jump. Double fault. 40-30. How on earth can I place the ball in that shrinking box over there on the other side of the the net? I focus on throwing the ball and then I hit it.
The serve was almost out of this world, or at least its results were. This victory was my own personal moon landing. 1969 Apollo 11, 1985 Wimbledon1. Back then, Neil Armstrong jumped from the ladder of the space capsule Eagle into the moondust and transmitted his historic words to the people of the world : “That’s one small step for man, one great leap for mankind.” But I couldn’t muster words to meet the occasion. I could only think, boy oh boy, this can’t be true.
The tension disappeared instantly and I felt slightly shaky. My heart was beating fast. I left crying to the others, though: my coach Gunther Bosch, my father and my mother. ‘With the passion of a Friedrich Nietzsche or Ludwig van Beethoven,’ wrote Time in its next issue, ‘this unseeded boy from Leimen turned the tennis establishment of Wimbledon on its head’
Thats from Boris Becker’s autobiography. Chapter 1. The Man on the Moon. An understated description of a couple of weeks at Wimbledon.
The tournament started last night. Its Roger Federer’s to lose.
Rohit Brijnath’s piece on Wimbledon here.
25 June … The day it all changed.
This day in 1983.
Indian Cricket changed forever.
And I know what you’re thinking. There are better photographs that capture the moment. Here’s the thing though. There are a few guys missing from this picture.
One of them – Kapil Dev – was the captain of the team. Another – Sandeep Patil, played an important role right through. This week, the BCCI scrapped their pensions. All Rs 35,000 per month of it. Not because there were allegations of match fixing against them. Or they coached rival teams against India. But because they chose to join an idea (for thats all it still is) which is yet to find approval with the BCCI.
One, Two ; Buckle Guru …
Its not that we won easily.
To me, the importance of yesterday, was Sachin and Dada as India’s one-two. Its immaterial that it failed.
Sachin Tendulkar back at the top of the order – a desire he’s expressed a few times – is important. In the past, when he said that, it was explained to him that the team’s interests would be better served if he played down the order. As if his desires were different from that of the team. That was probably the story behind “it hurts when the coach questions our attitude”.
Yesterday that changed. If it was Rahul Dravid’s fault that he backed Greg Chappell too much at the expense of his senior team-mates ( does “colleagues” sound the same?), then yesterday, he stepped out of that shadow. One step further than he’d done with the 5 bowler policy in Bangladesh.
Its going to be tougher conditions and better attacks from here on and a lot depends on how our batting does this summer, but belief is the first ingredient …
The Sikh of Tweak …
… as a reference to the “Sheikh of Tweak” for Shane Warne
or
The Montster
or
The Beard to be Feared
or
Parmesan Tony
or
The Python
or
The Spin Doctor
It does not matter what name you choose, Mudhsuden Singh Panesar is the flavour of the season. He’s Wisden Cricketer of the Year 2007. If you don’t believe me, check out his profile on his website. Cricketer of the Year ? One of year’s best 5 ? From a team that lost 0-5 ? How many wickets did he get ?
Monty Panesar has 65 Test wickets. At 28.4 apiece.
Maybe its because he got 23 in this last series against West Indies. Or because he was the first English spinner in a decade since Phil Tufnell (and we know what wonderful things he went on to) to get ten wickets in a match. Or because Darren Ganga who got 105 runs in 8 innings without facing spin that much reckons Monty is among the top three spinners in the world. Or maybe because you cannot find a single piece on Monty that does not say that Sachin Tendulkar was his first Test Wicket.
Whichever way you cut it, if you listen to what they are saying, he can do no wrong.
Each time the method has been the same. Find the line, find the length, repeat until the cracks appear. Sometimes they are in the surface, other times in the batsmen. Never, as yet, have the cracks appeared in Panesar himself. He’s loving this international cricket lark, as he loves to demonstrate with his marvellously mal-coordinated wicket celebrations. But when the ball is still in his hand, absolutely everything is channelled and focussed.
A month from now is the real test. Its perhaps a measure of India’s assessment of Monty that they don’t even have a left arm spinner in the side. Someone who can bowl to them at the nets and give them a feel for what Monty might dish out. Unless Yuvraj qualifies.
The English press meanwhile, think Monty’s the Real Turbonator.
From the infinite wisdom of the movie, Wall Street :
Kid, you’re on a roll. Enjoy it while it lasts, ’cause it never does.
Writings on The Wall …
Graham Ford’s Runaway Bride act (for thats the politest one can be) has done this. Its turned the focus solely on Rahul Dravid. This is going to be his summer. It will have to be. It had to be that way the day he reconciled it all by saying “Coming to a place like India, you’ve got to be 100% sure you want to do it – it takes a lot of patience, drive, energy. If he had second doubts, it’s right not to come here. It’s not a lost opportunity because the person who comes here has to have the drive and energy.“
Roger Waters in Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2) : “If you don’t eat yer meat, you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat yer meat?“
Have a good life, Mr Ford.
For some reason, Harsha Bhogle sees Ford’s cold feet as something the BCCI should apologise for. Its something unforeseen, he admits but yet he feels, displays BCCI’s arrogance or lack of planning and deserves a “Sorry, we goofed“. This, when even the skipper’s version (above) bears out the BCCI’s.
There’s more that I don’t get in that article. “If, however, they had followed a process, like Mr Srinivasan’s India Cements does so well, they would have interviewed four or five candidates and ranked them. So the moment the first candidate said no, the next would have been ready.” …I wonder if Mr Srinivasan’s India Cements (its amazing that they aren’t BCCI’s business model right?) ever had unsuitable candidates? And guess what – everybody knew we were looking for a coach. And only two guys applied – Dav Whatmore and Graham Ford.
That leaves the other issue that Harsha mentions – and thats planning. “Now, the BCCI has bought time. A truce seems to have been achieved with the players, even if it seems a temporary truce. And a trusted, respected man has been asked to hold the baby till a more permanent candidate emerges.” 80 days (starting next week) is the deadline that the BCCI’s Niranjan Shah’s announced (fwiw!) to select the new coach. Is that too much planning? Does it matter what he says? We’ll see. Without the benefit of hindsight its tough to tell.
Importantly though , in the article is a little snippet about Rahul Dravid asking for extra warm up games ahead of the Australia series. Its a tiny piece of news which suddenly restores Harsha’s voice for Indian cricket. It looks beyond the immediate and leaves unstated that Rahul Dravid is not officially skipper for the Australia series. Simply put, a cricketer who plays for his country. But with a vision beyond the here and now. India, Cements, The Wall – Maybe Mr Srinivasan would be proud.
In another piece, Pradeep Magazine speaks to Rahul Dravid. Its more a collection of things said, and really, the kind that one would have preferred to watch in a television interview than read in a collection of choose-your-order quotes but considering that it has nuggets like ” (there is) too much negativity in Indian cricket, which does not help….I’m not saying that there are no problems; yes, there are, but that does not mean that we blame the outside world for our failures.” or “In a team there are energy-givers and energy-sappers. We have a whole pot of energy and in the course of time you realise who will add energy to it and who will take energy out of it. It varies… And the more energy-givers you have, the better it will be for the team.” More things left unsaid like in The Wall’s boring post match “process” talk. The search for like minded people to fuel the drive.
Just nod if you can hear me …
And then is this piece on the BBC by Rohit Brijnath. Clearly, and not surprisingly, this is the most analytical of all the pieces. It highlights how Dravid can’t do it alone and yet, in many ways, he must.
“Indian cricket has been good for its followers in one way. It has taught them to master the art of looking on the bright side. Thus, the England tour must be seen somehow as opportunity. In this case it is a chance for the captain to bloom. Unhindered by a coach, Rahul Dravid must show that this is his team.“
The ironies are unmistakable. The skipper sees the dark clouds of negativity as the dangers that could corrupt his young team. Something they need to be “cocooned” from. The true fan sees the bright side and an opportunity.
Last night, as he smiled at Chandu Borde’s astute assessments that he’d been following England, and that they seemed to have a few good batsmen in Collingwood and Strauss and Vaughan was a bit prone to injury, Rahul Dravid said that this was probably his last tour (as a player anyway !) to England. He wanted to make it memorable. There are a few others on that team who will feel similar. They felt similar about the World Cup a few months ago and they must have hurt. Its on them that India depends. Its not all about The Wall.
Shine On, You Crazy Diamonds ….
