Samir Chopra

Crucial 'little beginnings'

In an earlier post, I noted how Test matches were up made of passages of play, the sessions, each one requiring a fresh start from the players

Samir Chopra
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
Virender Sehwag plays the slog sweep, India v Australia, 2nd Test, Chennai, October 15, 2004

Virender Sehwag attacked Australia's bowlers late on day four in Chennai in 2004  •  Hamish Blair/AFP

In a post on The Pitch a little while ago, I noted how Test matches were up made of passages of play, the sessions, each one requiring a fresh start from the players. Within those sessions, of course, lurk other little spells of cricket, often crucial in deciding outcomes: a mini-collapse, a predetermined assault on a bowler that destroys his confidence, a period of defensiveness that allows a bowler to regain confidence, and so on.
Some opening passages of play are well-established as mood-setting tropes: the opening batsmen's encounter with the new ball on the first day, the commencement of the fourth-innings chase, or the second innings response to a large first-innings total.
Among these kinds of openings of an innings is a classic period of play: the little beginning, late in the day, when opening batsmen come out to play out a few overs before shutting up shop again for the day after. At that moment, the batting side has everything to lose, the bowling side has everything to gain (the list of small, but dramatic collapses late in the day, achieved within a few overs, is quite long). The fast bowlers can go flat out, the fielders are keen and haring about, the light is starting to get dodgy. The batting side's fans hang on tight, hoping to make it through unscathed.
But sometimes, opening batsmen gloriously strike out to make a few decisive statements. Sometimes these set the mood for the following day's play, sometimes they indicate defiance in the face of a large total, and sometimes these lay a small, but vital foundation for a victory chase. Whatever the outcome, for those few brief moments, they entertain their fans and frustrate their opponents. And somehow, some openers find the wherewithal to produce some absolute gems of strokeplay as well.
I am going to list two small examples of what I have in mind. Both the Tests that I will note ended in draws, but when the opening salvo was being fired, they felt very far from being undecided.
Exhibit one: India v Pakistan in Karachi, the sixth Test of the 1982-83 series. India have already lost the series 0-3 as they head into the final encounter. Over the course of the first two days, plenty of time is lost to rain as India get to 393. Finally, when India are bowled out, the second day is almost over, and Pakistan have to play out less than five overs before stumps. A quick wicket or two might help India get started toward a consolation win. Instead, Pakistan sprint to 25 for no loss as Mohsin Khan, with five spanking boundaries, races to 21 not out. Years later, when I ran into an old Delhi University friend at a wedding in Chicago, he remembered this little spell of shots from Mohsin (played in a wheel) as among the best set of shots he had seen.
Exhibit two: India v Australia in Chennai, the second Test of the 2004-05 series. India are down 0-1, but after securing a 141-run lead, and restricting Australia to 369, have placed themselves in a position from where they can move on to equalise the series. But their openers have to face three overs, and two of those will be bowled by Glenn McGrath. A wicket or two here, and India's fourth-innings chase will be off to a disastrous start. McGrath does bowl those two overs, but he goes for eighteen in them, as the openers Yuvraj Singh and Virender Sehwag take four boundaries off him. In particular, on the last ball of the day, Sehwag smashes McGrath straight down the ground, and then walks off to the pavilion. Rain would kill this Test the next day, but on the evening of the fourth day, India had looked set for a win.
I invite readers to share their favorite "little beginnings" with me. The number of overs played must be fewer than ten to qualify; five or fewer would be even better.

Samir Chopra lives in Brooklyn and teaches Philosophy at the City University of New York. He tweets here