
© Stamp Publicity
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I recently had the misfortune of watching the desultory proceedings of a
Ranji Trophy match between two premier South Zone teams. It was
difficult to determine who were more bored - the players or the
spectators. Cricketers who should have been straining at the leash to
create an impression, especially in the heart of Test match season, were
going through the motions reluctantly. For the reasonable crowd that had
assembled at a remote suburban location, it must have been galling to
know that they had wasted a day's leave from the office, bus fare and
lunch expenses to watch a motley collection of automatons, who resembled
Greek tragic actors under the direction of an art film maker trying to
win an award at Cannes.
One could not blame the wicket for the dull fare dished out by the
sadomasochists on view; it was, in fact, a rather naughty one, making
the ball turn and jump like a group dancer in a Tamil film. It was the
bowling that was not up to it. There was a tall left-arm spinner who
groped blindly for clues as to how to take advantage of the mischievous
pitch. He was struggling to make the batsmen play, but the batsmen were
struggling to stay focused, so consistently wide and harmless was the
bowling.
All the while, the captain was looking at a spot behind the square-leg
umpire from his position at slip, studiously avoiding the poor bowler's
imploring looks. Not one attempt was made by the skipper or senior
players to walk up and offer the bowler a piece of advice.
At the other end, an energetic young fast bowler was charging up and
attempting to bowl at express pace. Obviously length was his speciality,
although not good length. He was consistently pitching the ball in his
half of the wicket, so the ball either sailed over the batsman's head or
out of harm's way wide outside the off-stump. Again, the young man was
left pretty much to his own devices by his seniors.
At the end of the day, the batting side was well and truly entrenched in
the driver's seat, and the home team had completely lost the initiative.
The fielders did some stretching and bending to set right the damage
done to bones and muscles during the day, and some members of the
batting side rushed to get some batting practice. What was conspicuous
by its absence was any attempt to stretch or exercise the mental muscles
and perform a meaningful post-mortem on the day's play.
Those who have been watching domestic cricket in recent years will know
that this is no isolated instance. This is the kind of raw material and
preparation from which India is supposed to produce Test cricketers.
These are the role models our fledgling school and college cricketers
watch, if they ever do watch domestic cricket.
Is it any wonder, then, that India continues to field paper tigers at
the international level, players whose fitness levels and fielding
standards are much below world standards? Players woefully deficient
even in the basics of the game, like how to run between wickets or how
to ground the bat at the end of a run? Players who have repeatedly been
accused of treating a team game as an individual sport?
I, for one, was disappointed that the recent standoff between the BCCI
and ICC did not result in India's isolation, for such an extreme measure
might have forced India to go back to the basics and set its house in
order, focusing all its attention on domestic cricket, whacking players
into shape if need be, and sacking self-seeking officials in the
process.