Samuels finally occupies stage centre

For too long, Marlon Samuels has been like the Art Deco piece that isn't quite in sync with the rest of the furniture - not uneasy on the eye, but too extravagant to be of much functional value. No one who saw his first forays in international cricket could ever doubt his ability, but the infuriating inconsistency that followed had even his most vocal backers tearing out their hair by the fistful.

The inconsistency and abject lack of performance was bad enough but what really angered most people was his utter insouciance. The West Indian legends of yore strutted the fields of the world, and the Viv Richards swagger - gum chewed lazily in accompaniment - will never be forgotten as long as the game is played. But, as Neil Manthorp once wrote on these pages: "There's nothing intrinsically wrong with tight t-shirts, diamond studded ear-rings and gold chains, of course, but they do look so much cooler on winning players."

Samuels wasn't part of that ill-fated expedition to the southern cape in 2003-04 but those words could have been written for him, and his penchant for peacock strut in the wake of single-digit scores.

It's nothing short of an outrage that a man blessed with the ability to strike a cricket ball so sweetly should average only 28.25 over the course of an 81-match career. Injuries kept him out for a long time but even more vexing than any weakness of body was the fragility of the mind. You tended to lose count of the number of occasions when he would emerge from the pavilion, stroke a couple of gorgeous boundaries and then throw it away. The lackadaisical walk back would only have intensified the selectors' urge to banish him to the wilderness.

But such talent must flower at some stage. Even now, Samuels is only 26, possessing the potential to be a major player in the post-Lara era in West Indies cricket. A corner was turned when he stroked a marvellous matchwinning century at Multan in December, his first score over 50 in 28 games dating back more than three years, and the rollicking 98 at this famous old ground was further confirmation of what's possible when effort and ability become enmeshed.

What was most pleasing about the innings was the manner in which he dominated every bowler he faced. Pace troubled him not a jot, with Ajit Agarkar and Sreesanth walloped for 48 from the 42 balls they bowled to him, and there were some stunning fours and a glorious straight six off Ramesh Powar when Rahul Dravid, the captain, ventured to try spin.

Lara, who has often spoken out about the need for some of his fairly experienced juniors to take on more responsibility, watched most of the wonderful innings from the other end. It clearly helped Samuels that Lara's batting at times was touched by genius, with some audacious paddle sweeps and cuts fighting for pride of place with a breathtaking straight loft off Anil Kumble. The 127-run partnership at exactly a run a ball bludgeoned India into submission, and the last few steps to victory could then be strolled rather than run.

In the end, the emphatic nature of the win deflected much of the attention from the helter-skelter start that had seen India in complete command for more than 30 overs. Robin Uthappa advanced his World Cup claims with the cleanest hits you could hope to see, and there were beautifully paced half-centuries from Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar, which in the latter's case only served to vindicate the team management's desire to have him shoring up the middle order.

The collapse that followed wasn't part of any such plan. To lose a couple of wickets in quick succession on such a perfect batting pitch was careless, but to lose 7 for 36 in the space of 13.2 overs against bowlers who were hardly Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne in disguise was simply wretched. The returning Yuvraj Singh could use rustiness as an excuse, but the rest had no crutch to lean on.

The bowling that followed was just as abysmal. Sreesanth may have become India's Test-match spearhead, but an economy rate of 5.7 is proof enough that he hasn't adapted nearly as well to the demands of the white-ball game. In striving too hard for wickets, he sprayed the ball all over like a kid with a garden hose, and it was left to Agarkar to maintain some semblance of a contest with a fine spell that yielded 3 for 45.

Kumble and Powar also came in for some savage treatment, with Lara's scintillating strokeplay negating flight, turn and any hint of assistance from the bowlers' footmarks. If there was any consolation for India, it was that few teams could have contained Lara when in this mood. What they didn't bank on was Samuels, and a precocious talent that may yet come to fruition.