Samir Chopra
What's the spirit of cricket?
After many attempts to process the sound and fury generated by Dhoni's 8-1 field placings (day three) and Ponting's bowler handling (day four) in the Nagpur test, I'm starting to think we don't have a determinate concept of "the spirit of cricket".
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
My favorite kind of philosophical discussion involves one where after a lengthy argument about some X, a participant finally throws up his hands and says, "I don't think we have a determinate concept of X".
After many attempts to process the sound and fury generated by Dhoni's 8-1 field placings (day three) and Ponting's bowler handling (day four) in the Nagpur test, I'm starting to think we don't have a determinate concept of "the spirit of cricket". For what else can explain the simultaneous blasting of both captains, one for violating the spirit of cricket, and the other for not?
Let me try and explain my puzzlement at this state of affairs. Dhoni was castigated for violating Clause 2.3 (a) of the Spirit of Cricket, which reads "Thou shalt not set fields that inhibit scoring excessively for doing so may lead to spectator boredom, opposing captain (and fan) disenchantment, and the demise of test cricket." (And bring the wrath of Peter Roebuck and Malcolm Conn down upon your head)
Ponting was castigated for NOT violating Clause 3.7 (b) of the Spirit of Cricket, which reads "Thou shalt always strive to maximize over-rates in Test cricket because failure to do so will lead to spectator boredom, opposing captain (and fan) disenchantment, and the demise of test cricket." (And besides Christopher Martin-Jenkins told us many years ago that the West Indian quicks were destroying all cricket with their dastardly over-rates)
Full postWhy is the Indian fan so angry?
It is both an indication of my current (mild) mistrust in other umpires because of many little incidents like the two I have cited above, that I now feel the most relieved when I see Aleem Dar and Asad Rauf umpiring in India's games.
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
One thing the India-Australia series was bound to do was generate a few flame wars between Indian and Australian fans. One didn't have to wait long, starting with the sniping in the press, the release of Adam Gilchrist's autobiography and ElbowGate.
One common thread in these debates, at least from the Australian side, is the sense of disbelief that Indian fans could be so unbelievably over-the-top in their sensitivities. Do they really think the world is out to get them? I don't think the world is. But I want to highlight a small part of the subtext to the sensitivities of Indian fans. I do not speak as a representative of the group, but merely want to offer a small personal glimpse into the set of accumulated feelings that could lead to this state of affairs.
Consider umpiring. The Indian distaste for Steve Bucknor was most notoriously on display at Sydney earlier in the year, and we haven't heard the end of that debate yet. But why would Indians ever think particular umpires were against them? What could their motivation be? I'd like to suggest that while there might be no overt prejudice in umpiring decisions against the Indian teams, the alert fan has not been ignorant of what might politely be called an "attitude" towards the Indian team. And that isn't a trust-engendering state of affairs.
Here are two, small, anecdotal vignettes. In the 2001 'Kolkata' series, Peter Willey was umpiring at Kolkata. The Indian 12th man ran onto the ground with either gloves or a bottle of water or a message or all three. Willey waved him off the ground imperiously, much like a District Collector might have waved his khansama off the gymkhana polo grounds. I wonder whether he would have employed that body language to an English or Australian player. I think Willey would have waited till the player was on the ground and gone over to talk to him. In the Delhi Test, Billy Bowden called a dead ball on VVS Laxman, cancelling the runs made by the batsmen because they had run on the pitch. When Laxman asked Bowden why the runs had been cancelled, Bowden put a finger on his lips, much as a schoolmaster might chastise a schoolboy. Again, I wonder whether Bowden would ever have used such a patronising gesture to an English or Australian player.
Full postMemories of Kotla
A friend of mine had secured what were supposed to be very good tickets but the sight lines still weren't great
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
The Ferozeshah Kotla in Delhi is an odd place. I first noticed it when watching John Lever rip the guts out of India's batting in the 1976 Test. Delhi's bright winter sunshine lit up the Kotla that day and emphasized several things which I would come to associate with the ground over the years: it was small, most of it was uncovered, and it had a slightly ramshackle feel to it.
That feeling only grew when I visited it for the first time to watch Clive Lloyd's West Indians in the 1983-84 series. It was the first and only day of Test cricket that I observed in India. The approach to the ground was over an unpaved road, the parking lot was a dusty, disused field, and the entrances to the ground similarly nondescript. A friend of mine had secured what were supposed to be very good tickets but the sight lines still weren't great. The crowds were raucous; their hardest hitting lines were reserved for the Indian players. I still blush when I think of some of the lines directed at Shastri, then often fielding close to the boundary line.
The Kotla already had a reputation as a dead pitch by then. One that had, in Lala Amarnath's immortal phrase, "taken an overdose of sleeping pills". But that day's cricket turned out to be surprisingly competitive. Richards did hit a brilliant 67, including a first ball four that sped to the fence before I had processed his entry and taking guard. But otherwise the West Indians stuttered before Lloyd and Logie put together a fightback. That Test, like many other Kotla Tests seemed to, ended in a draw.
Later, I went on to watch more cricket at the Kotla, but almost always domestic fare. Something about the ground was discordant and didn't mesh with my imagined visions of what Test cricket grounds should look like. The Delhi team won many Ranji Trophy games there, and so it acquired some lustre by virtue of being home to a champion team. But it remained a small ground: legend was that some of Tom Moody's sixes, hit during his tour with the Aussie U-19 team in the mid-80s, had actually landed outside the ground next to the bus stops.
Full postFree for all
The spectacle of a keenly contested Test match being played in front of empty rows of seats rankles, and it does not comfort me too much to know that plenty of interest is being shown in people's living rooms
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
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While I am concerned about the future of Test cricket in a world that seems to be increasingly headed towards the moneyed pastures of the Twenty20 World, I disagree that Tests are on their way out in India. And furthermore, I believe the Mohali schoolchildren experiment provides a very good model for how Tests could be further bolstered in India.
First things first. I do not think Test cricket is fading in India. Television audiences still remain gigantic, and there is no shortage of discussion about the game whether on the street, at homes, at schools and colleges and so on. Yes, there is more competition for spectators (most notably from English Premier League Football) but if interest in Tests is measured by whether it is on people's minds, and by whether advertisers think people are watching, then its levels remain high.
But why are Indian stadiums empty? The reasons for this are manifold. Indian stadiums are not comfortable places (BCCI please note), and there is competition for a family's live-cricket-watching budget. Why not just go watch a Twenty20 or an ODI instead when you are guaranteed a result at the end of the day? And of course, television coverage is of high-quality and you can make more frequent trips to the kitchen for snacks and drinks at home (and pay less)
Full postMicrophone. Major impact.
Like most additions to media coverage of sports, the stump microphone has had mixed effects
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
A couple of weeks ago when writing about the impact of the first live telecast from Australia to India (back in 1985), I commented on the immediacy of the action that Channel Nine's stump microphones introduced into the cricket watching experience. Over the years, I've come to regard the stump microphone as the single biggest change in that sphere (the varied angles for slow motion replays is a close second).
The stump microphone has done several things over the years. The most obvious effect is that it has made real two sounds that are part of cricketing lore and literature but which, before its advent, were not too clearly heard by those not at the ground: the "willow on leather" and the "death rattle". It also introduced us to the different sounds that bowlers make at the moment of delivery: the heavy thud of the fast bowler, the scraping and grinding of the spinner's pivot.
Most famously, it has let all of us become voyeurs as we listen to players sledging, chatting, complaining, joking and indulging in all of the little conversational moments that take place during the game. There are plenty of us that wish commentators wouldn't talk over the stump microphone!
And of course, players often aren't happy about the stump microphone for precisely the same reason: too much of what they say leaks into living rooms, a complaint most famously made by Shane Warne after the "f**king arsey c*nt" controversy.
Full postGame on
This Test resembled a boxing match in which each opponent landed a few punches, won a few rounds on points, and created headaches for the judges when it came to calling a winner
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
The just concluded first Test in Bangalore confirms a lot of my pre-series thoughts: the Australian batting line-up will not be pushovers; their bowling attack lacks some of the punch of old; the Indian batting line-up is still not firing on all cylinders; the Indian spinners have lost some zing; the Indian quicks will be more of a threat than the spinners; both sides' captains are inclined to let games drift and quickly go on the defensive, though Ricky Ponting outshone Anil Kumble in aggression; both captains can't seem to get a decent over-rate happening; India don't generally bat to win matches especially on fifth days; and lastly, injuries will do more to affect the 'Fab Five' than selections.
While Australia's first innings was uninspired at times, they did well to get themselves into a good position. 430 is always good batting first in a Test match. Ponting is likely to be very confident about his chances in the remaining games, which isn't good news for India, while Hussey showed that he is capable of succeeding just about anywhere thanks to his technique and temperament (I have a very hard time getting work done and thus tend to admire just about anybody with a serious work ethic!). Hayden failed but I don't think this will go on forever unless Zaheer sorts him out the way he did Graeme Smith last year in a one-day series. Katich looks solid but could also clog up Australia's attempts to force the pace unless he is willing to play out of character (I'm well aware of the fact that Katich has played some furious innings in Shield cricket). For my money the weak link lay in the trio of Watson, Haddin and White but it's too early to tell how they will do. Certainly Watson and Haddin did well on the fourth day but they were also let off by rather insipid captaincy from Kumble.
Full postThen and now
Having observed this change we are now free to speculate on its causes
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
A few weeks ago, I wrote about the hold that cricket photographs have on us fans. Besides the many genuinely aesthetic pleasures they make available to us, photographs play a central, historical function: they inform us of a time gone by.
Here is one difference that photographs reveal between the present and the past: the post-wicket celebration. Exhibit A: the famous photo of Jim Laker celebrating along with the rest of the team (or perhaps just noting) the end of an Ashes test in victory for England, a test in which Laker claimed 19 wickets of the 20 Australian wickets to fall. Laker and the rest of the English team seem to have wrapped up the win with as much visible display of emotion as one might make on receiving a receipt at a pawn shop.
Compare this with any photograph of the 1970s West Indian team celebrating. The exuberance on display is unmistakable. But this is not just a facile "Look at all the excitable non-white folk celebrating" or "White men can't party" point. For all teams now celebrate with the whooping exuberance of the West Indians. Some of them, the Indians for instance, take it even further: rumor has it that the famous slap heard round the world was actually just a congratulatory whack on the cheek. Some still display some reserve: Australians, for instance, pat each other's behinds in rather self-conscious fashion and shrink from the more affectionate hugs of their teammates. But in general there is no meekness on the cricket ground when it comes to celebrations: the English team is just as full of beans as anyone else. And almost all teams of the 1950s, even the West Indies, were relatively sedate in their on-field merry making.
Having observed this change we are now free to speculate on its causes. Is there too much coffee served in today's dressing rooms? Did other teams confuse the West Indian celebration as the cause, and not the effect, of the wicket falling? Is some of this put on for the television cameras? Is it, so to speak, part of the show, and the players know they are the actors?
Full postNow, that's what I call a rivalry
I've done the needful examination and I'm glad to report that this rivalry matches the hype
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
Much is made of the India-Australia rivalry these days: that it rivals the Ashes, that it supersedes the India-Pakistan series, and so on. But I live in a city where one sporting rivalry - the New York Yankees versus the Red Sox - sets the standards, and so I must evaluate this hype accordingly.
I've done the needful examination and I'm glad to report that this rivalry matches the hype. For what mattes in a true blue sporting rivalry is squabbling and nastiness, completely divorced from reality, and plenty of it. And that's something this particular match-up has in plenty.
Full postWhy India is not Pakistan
There is a quite simple reason why teams tour India rather than Pakistan
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
A couple of days ago on Different Strokes, I wrote that it would be fun to start talking about the playing of cricket again. Today, I'm going to ignore my advice and talk about cricket's political context. The recent bombing in Islamabad has forced my hand.
Folks might remember that Australia's decision to tour India had resulted in extremely loud denunciations of its "hypocrisy" in choosing to go to one country where bombs go off and making excuses to not go to another where bombs go off as well
I'd suggest the Aussies are on reasonably good ground, if what guided their decisions is their overall perception of the countries. There is a quite simple reason why teams tour India rather than Pakistan. Pakistan has been in the headlines (literally) for a very, very long time with regards to its internal political instability and violence. Think about all the things the West associates with Pakistan since 1979: Afghanistan, the mujahideen, refugee camps, military coups, the Taliban, the ISI, assassinations, the wild Northwest, fear of nuclear weapons falling into jihadi hands, Dr Khan's proliferation network, the Daniel Pearl beheading, the list goes on. And when a country is led by Army generals for a long time, it is quite difficult to remove the aura of political instability around it. Pakistan's problems have been on the West's radar for a very long time and are associated with a set of issues that the West is obsessed about. No one in the US or UK gives a hoot about the PWG in India or violence in the North-East or wherever, no matter how many Indians die. The patron of the Pakistani government, the US, has elevated and demoted Pakistan simultaneously to problem child and critical geo-political player.
And since 911, Pakistan cannot stay out of the news even if it wanted to. Pakistan's violence appears systemic, and embedded in a larger narrative about the "unstable, violent, Islamic world". India's violence appears sporadic, and discordant with a broader narrative about the rising economic superpowers of Asia. I live in the US and the constant stream of articles in the press about Pakistan's wild NorthWest, the ISI's implication in the activities of the Taliban, and the prospects of its civil government falling next year to another military coup is supplemented by articles about India's corporations going on acquisition sprees, the growth rate of the Indian economy, Snoop Dogg going to Bollywood and so on. Under these circumstances, I'm a little surprised that so many people consider the Australians utter and total hypocrites. This is the information they read about on a daily basis. Why wouldn't their perceptions of the country in question be affected?
Full postIt happened one night
Those of us settling down on that rather chilly morning (Delhi winters sometimes packed a late punch) had little inkling of what was in store
Samir Chopra
25-Feb-2013
It is commonplace amongst Indian commentators to trace the beginning of a particular kind of cricket mania to June 25th, 1983. I tend to agree, but only partially. My preferred date is March 3rd, 1985, when India played Australia at the MCG in the final Group A match of the Benson & Hedges World Championship of Cricket, held to commemorate the Victorian Cricket Association's Centenary. For that was the day that Indian cricket viewers first watched the live telecast of a cricket game from Australia (and since my memory isn't perfect, the first by Channel 9). And that was the day that cricket presented itself as a perfectly packaged televised spectacle, with plenty of glitter and gloss, 100 overs long, with a definite result at the end of it.
Those of us settling down on that rather chilly morning (Delhi winters sometimes packed a late punch) had little inkling of what was in store. It began innocently enough as Kapil sprinted to bowl the first delivery to Graeme Wood. As he did so, a scraping, knocking sound issued from our television sets, followed by the unmistakable sound of bat on ball. What had happened? It took us a few seconds to figure out that this was the famous "stump microphone" that we had read about. A few minutes later Robbie Kerr was gone, bowled Kapil Dev, and the sound his stumps made as they rattled was a sweet one indeed. Cricket had gone from being a game played far away on the ground to one that had a sudden, dynamic, physical immediacy. We were at the ground, in the midst of the action.
We watched the endless replays, the clarity of the images, the varied and multiple angles that covered the dismissals, and the clever graphics (prompted by Geoff Lawson's duck). We had not realized that all of this could be possibly associated with a cricket game. When India had won the World Cup in 1983, it had made cricketing success in one form of the game possible. What this Australian telecast did was make cricket into a form of entertainment that could be enjoyed by a much wider demographic; it made the far away spectacle of a game played by men in whites into a living-room tamasha of brightly attired athletic performers, displaying a perfectly tuned entertainer's sensibility. And of course, all of this on the magnificent stage of the cavernous MCG.
There were purely cricketing reasons too that day. India's 'quicks' smashed through the Aussie top-order, leaving them tottering at 4-17. Was it really possible that Indian opening bowlers could do this, in such brilliant clarity, to an opposing side? Especially one like the Australians (never mind that the Australian team that year was not particularly strong, it still held a certain fascination for Indian fans). A partial recovery saw the Aussies to 160. But with a mixture of Srikkanth-freneticism and Shastri-phlegmatism India strolled to that target. They had beaten Australia in Australia, on Australian television. The telecast magnified all of this. Our cricketers, in slo-mo, in close-up, viewed from various angles, praised to the high heavens by all these seemingly knowledgeable international cricketers whose names we had only read about, turned into demigods.
Full post