Dhawan's bouncer problem

It was a bit odd to have Shikhar Dhawan standing next to me the other day with a mic in hand, audio check done, looking into the camera. We shared the Delhi dressing room for more than half a decade and played quite a lot of our cricket together. Dhawan in the Delhi jersey with a bat in his hand, padded and geared up, walking down to partner me was the more familiar image. But that was a few years ago. Before he and I stood in front of the rolling cameras, Dhawan had hit some important runs against West Indies after a rather dull summer, and I was making inroads into cricket commentary.

Most of our talk off air revolved around Delhi cricket, but there was one question that the observer in me was raring to ask, on air: had he had made any changes to his technique while facing Jerome Taylor, who had troubled him way too much in the game in Delhi? I have known Dhawan for a while now, so should have known what was coming: "This time I troubled him," followed by a loud chuckle.

That reaction told me more about him than any technical explanation he could provide. Besides, it made for good television.

For the most part, his response, for me, encapsulates the attitude of the youth of this country: one of supreme confidence and grit. It is also an attitude that those of us who grew up during the late '70s and early '80s, never seemed to have possessed. While a modest Sachin Tendulkar would refrain from giving himself any credit, even the free-spoken Virender Sehwag would acknowledge the support staff's role in ironing out the chinks in his game. Let's say it wasn't fashionable among those players to be candid, to wear your heart on your sleeve: an air of nonchalance was often mistaken as dangerous over-confidence.

The new generation, on the other hand, thrives on just that sort of confidence. It's their driving force. I would have been happier to play in this era.

However, there's something the older generation had that this one doesn't seem possess: the ability to get rid of inadequacies. When one plays the game at the highest level, weaknesses are bound to emerge, as the opposition gets better with each passing game. It's imperative that you iron these faults out as your career progresses. Rahul Dravid was predominantly an on-side player when he started out but ended up as a batsman who was just as fluent through the off side, if not more. Tendulkar used to lean on his bat a bit too much in the beginning but ended with the best batting stance ever.

There are flaws that resurface from time to time, like the habit of fishing outside off. While that particular one has more to do with form and the position of the head and feet, there are some defects that resurface because of a lack of application, like getting out hooking or pulling against a short ball. If you aren't a good puller and hooker, you consciously stay away from attempting these shots while going through a bad patch, for you're acutely aware of the repercussions. But the moment you find form, you shift into autopilot and soon succumb to temptation.

Dhawan's off-side play is his strength. But at times it becomes his weakness too. He stays inside the line of the ball, which allows him to free his arms, and that's why the majority of his runs come through the off side. While this works in his favour on the subcontinent, and in the shorter formats worldwide (the pitches are reasonably flat in both instances), it becomes an issue when the ball starts moving around.

There's a way out, especially in Australia, and Dhawan knows it. He left a lot of balls alone in the two Test matches in New Zealand earlier this year, and if he's able to do the same in Australia, he'll manage.

The best part about playing in Australia is that you can always trust the bounce. So even if you misread the line, you can let the ball go on length. Once Dhawan has got his bearings right, I expect him to do this.

There's another small chink that has the potential to bother him, and if the last Ashes series is anything to go by, Mitchell Johnson will do his bit to get the better of Dhawan in this area. I'm talking about bouncers and Dhawan's fallibility when he decides to take them on. That's how got dismissed in Dharamsala. He played a pull and a hook for a four and six before attempting another such shot and perished in the process. This time the ball was too high and slightly outside off . He was already on a run-a-ball 35 and looked good to get a big one, but not having the right technique to hook caused his dismissal. The hook is a reasonably instinctive shot, and if you haven't told yourself to refrain from it completely, it's only a matter of time before you go after a short ball.

Dhawan is predominantly a front-foot player, so much so that his back leg is rarely behind the popping crease, even when he's playing shots like the cut or punch off the back foot. The lack of a back-and-across movement of the back leg almost ensures that he's never in the right position to pull or hook fast bowlers. To add to it, his leading arm doesn't open up at all while playing the hook or pull, which means that the ball is far too close to his body at the point of impact.

In the commentary box, this point - that Dhawan cramps himself for space - comes up off and on.

David Warner, Ricky Ponting and other good pullers and hookers extend their top arm completely to ensure that the bat is always on top of the bounce, and that they have reasonable control over the shot. It's not that they won't get out to short balls but it's a given that the bowler will think twice before bowling a bouncer to these men. That's not the case with Dhawan. For a brief period during the Test series in New Zealand it looked like he had shelved the shot completely, which would have been the smart thing to do. Clearly he hasn't, which means plenty of bouncers will come his way in Australia.

Dhawan's success as an opener is critical to India's chances, and while his confidence will make up for lack of playing experience in Australia, he may want to start developing the habit of ducking under while down under.