Cricket needs some spice and colour

The game of cricket, one could easily be led to believe, is at a crossroads. The longest format of the game, once unparalleled in its ability to blend finesse with brashness, gentility with hostility, seems to be losing its aura. While it remains a format dearest to most cricketers, it just does not seem as captivating as it used to be. The other, diametrically opposite format, while exhilarating at times, will always be viewed with skepticism because it seems to summarily negate the importance of traditional cricketing attributes.

The ODI format, which could have been a convenient middle path, has instead been thwarted by the other two formats. It is shorter than Test cricket, but too long for a day. It’s a better test of skill and character than Twenty20, but simply no match to the travails of Test cricket. Even a commercially successful World Cup hasn’t put to rest speculations on the future of ODIs. What then does cricket need to rediscover itself?

The game today appears to be suffering from a malaise that transcends format. Any sport, be it an individual or a team sport, owes its greatness to the personality of the individuals who play it. We've grown up hearing commentators hailing qualities such as gamesmanship, "team before self", "playing to win", which go on to ensure that the "game is the ultimate winner". While these may seem like overhyped platitudes in an increasingly competitive sporting environment, the truth is that anyone watching the game would always appreciate these attributes in players. No one would cease to follow the game if Sachin Tendulkar stops scoring hundreds, they would be disappointed every time he misses out, but would always tune in next time in the hope that he would succeed. On the contrary, a hundred like the one Angelo Matthews scored in the third Test against Australia would always do a disservice to the game, and even to the most ardent of Angelo's cricket fans.

Maybe the modern obsession with, and accessibility to, statistics is a factor, but modern cricketers seem a little too bothered about centuries, bans, fines, none of which serves to further the team's cause. Ricky Ponting's tactics on the fourth day of the final Test in Nagpur 2008, where he let India off the hook with some confounding bowling changes, are a case in point. MS Dhoni's decision to abandon the pursuit of a more-than-achievable target in Dominica and Dinesh Chandimal's century against England in an ODI recently are also recent examples of poor advertisements of the game.

Another issue that seems to be plaguing the game is the frequency of cricket matches. Today, cricket matches are played by fatigued players, and watched, if at all, by a fatigued audience. A direct, albeit lesser obvious, consequence of this fatigue has been the visible lack of variety in cricketing talent, as well as characters. The whole experience of watching cricket today is far more mechanical, far less poetic. Even so, honourable exceptions do exist, such as Virender Sehwag. His style of cricket may seem exasperating and unfulfilling to some, but no one can deny the fact that he embodies several qualities that make him unique and endearing. He might not be a natural athlete, but don’t we have enough of those already? He never slows down in the 90s, enjoys the success of his team-mates, is jovial, and most importantly, always seems to be playing to win.

One can be fairly certain that Sehwag would have certainly attempted to chase down the target in Dominica. Some would argue that it is the only way Sehwag can be successful, but even if that were true, it does not undermine the fact that he is a rare breed in modern cricket. Amid the increasing dullness around him, Sehwag ensures there is never a dull moment while he occupies the crease. It’s his approach to the game that makes him so watchable. Everyone, of course, cannot be a Sehwag. But the game today could do with some spice and colour. Not in a perfunctory manner from IPL cheerleaders, but from people who play the game.