India's one-two punch

The most striking thing to me about India’s performance in the pair of Tests against England was that they have finally solved their opening batsman problem.

From the time Sunil Gavaskar retired until very recently, opening India’s batting was as thankless as batting at three for England. Around the turn of the millennium, Indian opening batsmen were rather like Indian opening bowlers of the Seventies, mere hors d’oeuvres before the introduction of the Fab Four – spinners or batsmen, depending on decade.

Eventually Virender Sehwag, a promising middle order bat, realised that he could either wait seven years to get a chance in his preferred position or have a go at opening. For those raised on the cautious principles which Gavaskar followed as an opener, Sehwag was either a shock or an abomination, since caution was a concept entirely unknown to him.

It took some time for India to be happy with this; wise men would shake their heads and murmur about the need for solidity at the top of the order, but gradually his value came to be recognised.

That value is not so much in the runs he scores as in the fear he has implanted in every opposition. Sometimes he hardly disturbs them, sometimes he is but a few violent gusts, but he is as closely observed as the weather systems in the western Atlantic because of the danger that an unstoppable Hurricane Viru will lay waste to them. Until Sehwag is out, every captain and every bowling attack is on edge. Unless they get him quickly their nerves fray and their confidence saps, making life for those who follow him that much easier.

Even better, it allows his partner to play himself in unnoticed. Several batsmen were offered this opportunity, but until Gautam Gambhir came along, none had really made very much of it.

Gambhir looks to me to be the true heir of Sunil Gavaskar, a Gavaskar for the twenty-first century.

Batsmen are of their time. In the Seventies and Eighties, the adhesive caution which characterised Gavaskar or Boycott was highly esteemed. Spectators understood that although it was very dull to watch, this was how Test cricket was played.

A generation on, teams start every match trying to win it rather than insuring against loss, so more enterprise is required in opening batsmen. The great thing about Gambhir is that he seems perfectly equipped for today’s strategies.

21st-century engineering makes shifting gears in the Gambi much smoother than in the older Sunny. Today’s model effortlessly spots the bad ball on the wrong length from a pace bowler and walks down the track to caress it over long on for six, changing back down to low gear for the next ball without the passengers noticing a thing, while the earlier version tended to have to get into a particular gear and stay there for a period. One could wish for a little more elegance in the external styling, but the power unit and transmission have a silky flexibility usually absent from twentieth-century vehicles.

The next Indian middle order may not be up to the standard set by the Fab Four, but the new opening partnership is now the most fearsome in world cricket.

PS: As spoilsports posted the answers to the puzzle within a few hours, reposting them seems superfluous – though I’m obviously very pleased that so many seemed to enjoy it. This blog will not be turning into Puzzle Corner, but I hope to offer the odd similar amusement from time to time. See you all in the New Year.