Devil's playgrounds

Having 27 first-class teams in our domestic set-up not only ensures that the talent from all the regions has the necessary platform to test its skills, but it also throws up challenges to play cricket at lesser-known venues. These venues are not used to staging first-class matches or rarely get a chance to do so.

When a first-class match is played at such venues, it generates a lot of interest among the local people and such games are well-attended by spectators. The local administrators are usually in a state of chaos as they try to shower upon the players their hospitality in a big way. They ensure that proper breakfast and huge lunches are served, which is fine but not healthy for the fitness freaks. At times, chhole-bhature, poori-bhaji, samosas, kachoris are served when all the players want are eggs, cereal or something else healthy.

They also leave a lot of unwanted service boys to serve the food, not knowing the players want privacy in the dressing room. Due to lack of co-ordination between various honorary committee members, local transport from hotel to ground and ground to hotel is rarely on time. It leaves the manager of the team in awkward state, making frantic calls to the local manager and at the same time facing glares from players and the coach.

To players, only the wicket and playing conditions are of utmost importance. They don’t usually mind staying in substandard hotels, and can compromise on the quality of food served, but if the wicket and playing conditions are poor, they are not happy. When they are playing, their careers are at stake and failure cannot always be attributed only to their skills; there are external factors at work too.

Players often get disturbed by people moving across or over the sightscreen. At times those appointed to prohibit people from moving across the sightscreen themselves amble across it. There is a ground in Guwahati where a busy railway track runs right behind the sightscreen. The game has to stop on a number of occasions when a train is passing by as the players don’t want to be disturbed by a moving train when they want to concentrate on the moving ball, nor do the umpires want to miss a faint tickle because of the sound of the train.

I recently played at Margao where the wicket was a featherbed, and the state of the outfield was such that the match referee had to apparently call the BCCI authorities and threaten to take action. Eventually the boundary was shortened in that particular part of the field, which resembled a ploughed field. On such outfields, one has to have a prayer on his lips when chasing a ball or trying to catch it, as an ankle injury or a serious injury is not far away.

Agartala is one ground where the wicket is not great, but I remember the venue because of the wonderful tents that are erected as dressing rooms, which resemble the tents from the Arabian nights. The GSFC Ground in Baroda where we played the Ranji final in 2000-01 is located amid thick forestry. Players were often reluctant to go in search of the ball once it crossed the boundary rope because there we had loads of monkeys for company on the periphery and nobody was keen to invite the monkeys’ wrath in case they suddenly found a liking for the red cherry.

Sometimes, the practice facilities are not what one expects of first-class venues. At some venues such as the Karnail Singh Stadium, the run-up in the practice area is all mud and devoid of all grass. Anil Kumble, who played there two seasons ago, quipped that one could bowl in chappals (slippers) and that spikes were not required while practising at such facilities.

However, there are lesser-known grounds where the wicket on offer is of the highest quality and is truly sporting in nature. I have to include Valsad and Surat in that category. But the applause and appreciation for having one of the best first-class venues has to go to Anantapur in Andhra Pradesh. The wicket there is sporting, the outfield like a billiards table - even and lush green - and a clubhouse that makes one believe one is playing in the English countryside. Moncho Ferrer, of Spanish origin but born and brought up in India, is the man behind this. He has developed the ground in the name of a trust called Anantapur Sports Village. One often wonders why can’t a high percentage of the state associations who get anywhere between Rs 2 and 3 crore as an annual grant from the BCCI use the money as efficiently as the above mentioned trust? Proper accountability from the people who run the state associations is required.