How could this happen? Is there no poetic justice in this world? Was it destined to end this way?
No, these weren’t questions I asked when Tim Bresnan’s length delivery at Edgbaston saw Shantha Sreesanth hole out to gully and signal England’s rise to the top of the ICC Test rankings for the first time since 1980.
No, these were questions I asked myself when, in 1999, I witnessed the heartbreaking manner in which South Africa tumbled out of the World Cup, after Allan Donald needlessly ran himself out against Australia in the semi-final.
It was indeed a poetic story, one that every cricket fan remembers with pain! Following their rise from the ashes of apartheid, the team blazed through the tournament on the back of Jacques Kallis’ smashing efforts with the bat, and Lance
Klusener’s exploits in both departments. The latter’s look of abject disappointment as the stewards led him off the field after that semi-final burned those questions in my heart.
The similarly fairy-tale story of India’s position at the top of the Test rankings came to an ignominious end at Edgbaston. In the age of fast food, fast money and Twenty20, Test cricket had suddenly risen to grip the world’s attention, as two heavyweights began their tussle at Lord’s. But the giants leading that charge, India, were swiftly brought to their knees as they folded in the face of England’s superior performance - and the afore mentioned questions were joined by one that had long been asked.
Were we too tired and are we, in fact, playing too much cricket? As tiresome as the stories involving such grievances have become, the issues remain key to understanding a drop in performance when it matters.
A series in South Africa at the start of the year, a one-day international World Cup (which clearly we played until the final day), an Indian Premier League season with not a moment to lose and then a tour of the West Indies, before traveling to our rankings graveyard in England. Is it any surprise we’ve had our walking wounded exposed to the fullest extent and looking like schoolboys?
However, Team India’s chief selector Krishnamachari Srikkanth would have us believe otherwise. “It is not the Indians only,” he said. “The fact is that cricket is being played the whole year in whatever format - Test, ODI or Twenty20. So I don't think that it is the fatigue factor for the performance in England.”
He goes on to mention that the “same bunch of cricketers” beat South Africa in their backyard. His logic would mean that a group performing well month-in month-out would be invincible. However, that would be akin to asking a marathon runner, who’s led the pack for half the distance to continue his pace no matter what. It defies logic. No amount of money can counter a massive build-up of lactic acid, over such a long period, if you will pardon the Biology lesson!
Sportspersons are human, but their bodies require a significantly different maintenance regime than your average Joe. It is a continuous process of build-up and cool-down. It is not something that can be avoided during the off-season even, the bodies must be kept in proper shape no matter what. Trials and tribulations, though, are at every turn, and the process of staying on top of one’s fitness is a constant struggle.
Tennis legend Andre Agassi was forced to shoot cortisone injections in his back twice a day (sometimes between matches as well) to even think of completing a day’s training or a competitive match. Cyclist Lance Armstrong battled testicular cancer to make a hugely successful return to the sport. Sachin Tendulkar’s troubles against his own back and a tennis elbow have been the subject of various cricketing “obituaries”, while Zaheer Khan’s long-standing hamstring predicament cries out for India to fast-track his successor’s grooming. Even the Don faced death when diagnosed with acute appendicitis during Australia’s 1934 tour of England. However, the stories of thousands of unsung players going through similar and worse physical battles remain off the back pages.
The general masses perhaps remain unaware of the strain that a player takes on a personal level in order to keep himself match-fit. What we see is the insane amounts of money thrown out, not just as BCCI salaries, but also as part of franchise tournaments, advertising and the whole gamut of extra-vocational activities. And the inevitable snide remarks follow when the team does not perform well: “So much money and he gets out for 10!”, “Why do we pay them so much when all they do is have fun on tour?”
Money talks of course, so the need to rake in astronomical amounts clouds the judgements of our administrative leaders. Series after series, in a bid to boost advertising revenue - all under the clever guise of promoting the game - becomes an everyday affair. To take the IPL as an example again, the average routine of a player would go as follows: prepare for the match, play it, sleep the odd hours that you can find, wake up next morning for a rush to the airport, another city, another stadium, and do the whole thing all over again. Gautam Gambhir’s much-publicised efforts for Kolkata Knight Riders while nursing an elbow injury was just the tip of the iceberg. To be fair, it did spark the “tiredness” debate for a bit. But with other such “important” affairs like Preity Zinta’s ego battle with Shilpa Shetty doing the rounds, who had the time to care about the people who actually played the game right?
So when nearly half the core players of a team are on the nursing table, what other word would you care to use? None, but that which has been bandied around ever since people woke up to the rude shock that an IPL tournament was to be played a week after we lifted the World Cup - “Tired”, and its many variants such as “too much cricket”.
When MS Dhoni took the field at Nottingham after rescinding the appeal over Ian Bell’s moment of madness, a fellow journalist commented how the skipper’s face gave off the tell-tale signs of a man who was resigned to his fate, of having given up. And as if to cement the I-dont-care-anymore attitude, the very next Test saw jokes being shared by teammates even as England built one partnership after another like nails in a coffin. All manner of behavior shouted out “We don’t care anymore. Just show us the end to the turmoil and we’ll happily walk towards the light.”
The light has shone, the bells have tolled and the humble pie has been eaten. What we do with the leftovers, will define our quest to reach the top once again. Feed it to the dogs of constant criticism and you risk losing all that is good about a sport in the very bloodstream of a country. Use it to create a new generation of champions and the world will remember the Edgbaston squad, whose fall from grace shook the gold dust off administrative eyes.
Bibhash Dash is a Mangalore-based freelance sports writer
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