Why the IPL can't be much more than a launch pad?

In recent days I have had the opportunity to watch Ashish Reddy, Hanuma Vihari, Manan Vohra, Rahul Shukla and some others whose existence television only sporadically acknowledges. If you've looked at scorecards of domestic cricket, you know the names, but you probably only know them merely by the numbers they generate. The IPL allows you to see them, it gives them a platform, and that is one of the reasons I look forward to it every year.

A couple of years ago Saurabh Tiwary told me that he scored a lot of runs for Jharkhand but nobody knew him. He made a couple of thirties for Mumbai Indians and suddenly he was being talked about. It put him in the Indian squad and in the IPL auction. He may have had a financial windfall but it didn't do too much for his future in Indian cricket; he remains, at best, a fringe player. At least at this stage. It tells you a bit about the IPL.

What the tournament does give you, and give you better than anything else in international cricket at the moment, is a stage and an opportunity. It doesn't give you too much more, but if you are a young man, you should be willing to give anything for that much. Some take the opportunity, others don't. Some believe the opportunity is the pinnacle of all they ever wanted to do, others think it is the beginning of life in another world. But it doesn't guarantee you anything, often not even a spot in the Ranji Trophy, as Paul Valthaty and Manvinder Bisla discovered. And as Tiwary now knows, the reputation you acquire in the IPL doesn't count for too much in the Ranji Trophy either.

And an IPL match is like an episode in a long-running soap. You don't want to miss the action as it unfolds, but people remember only bits and pieces thereafter. You can therefore trend on Twitter for a day, maybe be talked about for another week, but that is it. Arun Karthik knows it well. A six off the last ball for the Royal Challengers in the Champions League made him an overnight hero but that was it. It isn't like being in a feature film, where a blockbuster performance is remembered for years - that is the equivalent of a Test hundred.

The reason I am saying this is that people either give the IPL way too much importance or seek to get noticed by trying to knock it off its pedestal. Neither is right. The IPL is not a certificate of performance in other forms of cricket. We saw that with Swapnil Asnodkar, with Valthaty, with Manpreet Singh Gony, with Siddharth Trivedi. It is merely an opportunity that you have to take again and again. It doesn't make you a good first-class cricketer - that is a different game. It makes people look out for you, but that is about the only advantage, even if a significant one.

It helped cricketers liked R Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja, because they used the stage to draw attention towards themselves. They didn't make it in first-class cricket, and thereafter in Test cricket, because they were good in the IPL. They did it because they bowled hundreds of overs when very few people were watching, and perfected their craft. They became ready elsewhere and used the IPL as an opportunity to announce themselves to the world.

That is how I believe the IPL must be seen. As an event that celebrates a specific ability and at a specific moment in time. People who cannot, or are unwilling to, put in the hard yards in four-day or five-day cricket remain IPL specialists. This isn't only true of those like Mayank Agarwal or Bisla but of others like Tirumalasetti Suman, and for that matter, Munaf Patel.

As the IPL gets a greater share of national sporting attention, and as sponsors eye the various price points available to them to claim association, I hope young players don't look at it as the only cricket in their lives. They could do that if, like European football leagues, the IPL ran for six months. But it doesn't and so I hope they use it to draw attention to their skills. If they play four-day cricket, I believe they will extend their T20 career. If the shortest form is all they play, it could lead to a short career.

-Harsha Bhogle for ESPN

Mr Cricket-N Srinivasan

Well,I'm not talking about MSD, Mr.Cricket here is referred to Narayanswami Srinivasan, the President of the BCCI(Board of Control for Cricket in India), and also the owner of India Cements which owns the most successful team in IPL.After Srini was appointed the President,Within seven months, the BCCI constitution was amended to change the clause that had stipulated that no administration or member should have any commercial activities of the board..Chennai Super Kings has performed exceptionally well in the past tournaments, 4 of India's National team also represent CSK.The captain of the indian team is the vice president of india cements. The owner of CSK and the President of BCCI is the same person,this makes the scenario smell fishy.

Tamil Nadu Government has banned SriLankan cricketers in Chennai.So instead of moving home games away from Chennai, no SL player will play in Chennai.Chennai have just two SL players who are not their lead players, but for other teams SL Players are very important.
No Malinga vs MI, No Mahela vs DD, No Dilshan vs RCB, chennai will have pretty easy home games.This decision will affect other franchises more than Csk.Let us not forget, the actual problem is of CSK but other teams will suffer. This is pure injustice and maybe it is the Srinivasan effect?

Is there some magic left in Sehwag yet?

In many ways, it was inevitable, and yet it hits you like one of his many shots over the years. Looked at coldly, devoid of emotion and without looking at the past, Virender Sehwag's omission was predictable. The runs had dried up, the rope he had been given was long enough. But the realisation that the thrill you felt within as he walked out to bat will be absent creates a longing. Sehwag kept you on the edge of your seat, he made you look forward to the next moment. He was good for cricket and he was good for India, and we don't know if he will play for India again. He has been a mighty cricketer and he will stroll easily into a room reserved for the greats of Indian cricket. Without a doubt.

-Harsha Bhogle for ESPN

But hang on, is this starting to look like a retirement tribute? There is a part of me that wishes it isn't, and there is another that fears we may not see him again. There is much stacked against him. Over the next 24 months India visit South Africa, New Zealand and England, against each of whom he averages under 30, and Australia where fifteen months ago he scored198 in eight innings. India play away more than they do at home in this period. Of not inconsiderable importance is the fact that among the youngsters tried out in recent times, Cheteshwar Pujara, Virat Kohli, Ravichandran Ashwin, Ravindra Jadeja, Umesh Yadav and Bhuvneshwar Kumar have all shown acceptable levels of promise and performance. Now Murali Vijay has got a big hundred too. The temptation to look at a younger man has been rendered stronger.

His chances of being picked for Mohali and Delhi would have resided in the hope that India's selectors wouldn't want to change a winning combination. I have heard that thought expressed many times and, quite frankly, have been baffled each time. It suggests that if the team is winning, it should be happy to carry along those that are not good enough anymore. No team should ever be picked on such a basis, for in the course of time everyone will then be entitled to be selected, even if they aren't delivering. Sehwag had to be picked based on his performance and not on that of the rest.

I suspect this omission is also an indicator that Sehwag will not be opening the batting in South Africa this November. If he was to, he had to be retained, but quite clearly the thinking is that the next in line must feel at home playing for India before playing an away tour. In logic, it is sound. But sadly for Sehwag, it is a tricky time to be dropped because the domestic season is over and there will be little Ranji Trophy cricket by November. To force his way back he needs games and those are not available in India.

So if it seems that the opening berth is now sealed (remember Gautam Gambhir will be in line for a comeback too), is there another option? And here the picture seems a touch rosier. Sehwag hasn't ever held back from saying that he wants a spot in the middle order. A couple of years ago, when he was in peak form, I interviewed him after he received an ESPNcricinfo Award. "Surely you accept that you are now an opener?" I asked. "No, I am No. 4…" he started. "But No. 4 is not leaving in a hurry," I said with a smile, eager to see his reaction. "No problem, I will wait." he said.

We don't know how long "No. 4" will play, for fitness will become a concern as time passes, but if for some reason Sachin Tendulkar is not on the flight to Johannesburg, India may not have a single batsman in the top six who will have played more than 20 Tests (on the assumption, of course, that Dhoni will be No. 7 on those tracks). Sehwag at No. 5, below Pujara and Kohli but above Ajinkya Rahane or Manoj Tiwary or another at No. 6, might be tempting for the selectors.

Much, of course, will depend on Sehwag's will to continue; and its translation into a rigorous fitness regime. Players like Ricky Ponting, Rahul Dravid and Michael Hussey were extraordinarily fit as 40 loomed, and VVS Laxman's great discipline and skill kept him going. Can Sehwag recall the hunger, and that extraordinary ability for hard work, again?

You need the Kumbles and Dravids, not just the Tendulkars.

In a country of over a billion people, talent ought to be as common as table salt. Why fuss over it? Especially talent in cricket - synonymous with sport in India, and hence intensely followed and widely played.

Clearly, though, that isn't the case, for had talent been so common, India would have been churning out prodigies all the time, sitting secure as Test No. 1, and ruling the other ICC rankings tables for decades together. Perhaps that's why talented cricketers are so revered - and rightly so. Rohit Sharma finds himself in this hallowed club, protected and persisted with to fortify his "god-gifted talent", as MS Dhoni puts it.

In a sense, Rohit's talent has even superseded the intangible yet highly consequential yardstick of form, the lack of which is often responsible for a player being dropped from a team.

But isn't talent as intangible and indefinable as form? Talent means a special natural ability or aptitude, but who is to judge if that ability is special or everyday? Wouldn't the answer be highly subjective? Our judgement of talent is often based on preconceived notions of what constitutes it, and thus of who is "talented".

For instance, Sachin Tendulkar has been widely recognised as talented, but in comparison, but not many would say the same for Anil Kumble - at least they wouldn't say that he was talented in the same measure as Tendulkar. Does that make him less talented?

From the beginning Tendulkar displayed special skills to successfully deal with all kinds of challenges thrown at him. He could do things others couldn't. He always seemed to have enough time to play the fastest bowlers on the fastest pitches. He had more than one stroke for every delivery. His timing and balance were superior to those of his peers, and above all, he had the ability to keep the good balls out and punish the bad balls consistently.

He had more time because he could pick the ball a fraction earlier, which allowed him to get into the right positions before the ball arrived. He had more strokes because he had supreme control over his bat's movements, and the extra time he had made that possible. His timing was also a gift, for he always knew precisely when to bring the bat down at the desired speed and angles. His ability to keep the good balls out, though, was not natural but nurtured.

On the other hand, Kumble, who made his debut a year after Tendulkar, was first considered the antithesis of what a talented player should be. Unlike Tendulkar, who was marked as a "special talent", Kumble fought a constant battle to prove people wrong, for legspinners of his type were not supposed to succeed beyond a point. The preconceived notions about talented legspinners were to do with their natural ability to get loop, drift in the air and vicious turn off the surface. Kumble ticked none of these boxes, for his height and high-arm action didn't allow him to create loop, nor did he spin the ball off the surface. He relied on unbelievable accuracy and subtle variations to create deception.

	In Kumble's or Dravid's case, not only did we fail to assess their talent fairly but we were also as quick to discredit it. What they possessed didn't match our understanding of talent

The jury could be divided on whether Kumble qualified as talented or whether his success was the result of sheer hard work. Even Rahul Dravid was rarely considered talented in his early days, for our notions about talented batsmen often have to do with flair and panache. The dogged approach to blunting an attack for sessions on end isn't what talent is all about - or so we are made to believe.

This is not about whether Rohit is talented or not. That, again, is a personal perception. The point I am making is simple - whether someone is permitted to or prohibited from making the cut shouldn't solely depend on our understanding of his talent, for our judgement of it could be skewed.

Tendulkar, the most gifted of cricketers, also became one of the most successful through hard work, not talent alone. An abundance of talent cannot automatically discipline the mind to be selective, which is a crucial quality.

While greatness can have a touch of predictability and boredom to it, because it can't be achieved without a little bit of self-denial, talent is seldom boring, because it allows you to do things others can't fathom.

Not only that, Tendulkar, with all his talent, needed to keep evolving as a batsman to remain one step ahead of the opposition. He wasn't the most technically correct player when he started out. He used to lean on his bat in his stance, which resulted in his head falling over and made him play across the line. He knew that to complement his talent and make the most of it, he needed to keep working on those little chinks in his game.

Over a period of time, the most talented batsman also became the most technically correct batsman. Talent put Tendulkar on the right path and his discipline took him to his destination.

The popular judgement of talent, in Tendulkar's case, was accurate, and fortunately he proved us right too. But in Kumble's or Dravid's case, not only did we fail to assess their talent fairly, we were also quick to discredit it. What they possessed didn't match our understanding of talent. They didn't have the flair (though they had the ability to concentrate for long hours). They didn't have two shots for the same ball, or a delivery that turned a lot, but they had the ability to be consistent in their approach. That is talent too.

I grew up with many cricketers who were considered far more talented than I was, but most of them didn't even get to first-class level, let alone don the India colours. You might be justified in giving more opportunities to players at the junior level who are perceived to be talented, but we must acknowledge that talent doesn't always translate into success and that our understanding of talent can be slightly warped at times.

One may be tempted to give talented players a longer rope, but there's no guarantee that they'll turn out to be successes. Vinod Kambli, at one time, was considered more talented than Tendulkar.

It's imperative to ensure, especially in a team sport, that players who are considered less talented aren't given a rough deal in order to promote a talented player. It's tempting to find another Tendulkar, but that shouldn't mean that the Dravids and Kumbles aren't given a fair run.

Source: Akaash Chopra, ESPN Cricinfo

What's with India's don't-win-but-don't-lose attitude?

The country's cricket, at all levels, is suffering because of players' reluctance to challenge themselves.

As I watched the last day of the Irani Cup unfold, completely inconsequential, and devoid of a challenge, I wondered what it is about our cricket system that encourages so many teams to play safe, to believe that getting the first-innings lead is all that matters. It bothered me - and I hope it bothers a lot of people - that a higher sporting goal, that of winning the game outright, seems to be so low down the priority of most teams.

Among the many responses I got on Twitter when I posed the question why, one came from Anand Halve, among India's foremost marketing analysts. "Do you think 'It's ok if you don't win but don't lose' is a reflection of a national mindset that goes beyond cricket?" he asked, and being the analytical sort, promptly followed it with another: "The Minimax vs Maximin criterion as a motto for living?"

The definition of Minimax in game theory, simplified, is (courtesy Wikipedia): "… each player minimises the maximum payoff possible for the other - since the game is zero-sum, he also minimises his own maximum loss (i.e. maximises his minimum payoff)."

At the start of day five of the Irani Cup, Rest of India were 413 ahead with 90 overs left in the match. Remember, it was a last-day pitch, and except on day one, a run rate of four an over hadn't been reached. You would have thought 4.5 runs per over would have been not only a safe enough challenge but also one that would have given their bowlers the best opportunity to take ten wickets. Instead, they batted on and set Mumbai 517 from a maximum of 67 overs.

When I asked Harbhajan Singh, the Rest of India captain, if he had contemplated a declaration overnight, he suggested that on a track like that, they didn't want to offer the opposition a chance. He was minimising the maximum payoff possible for the opposition (to win the game by chasing 413 on the last day) but also maximising his minimum payoff (to win on first-innings lead). In this case, aiming for his maximum payoff, winning outright, would have been excellent for cricket, would have given his bowlers something to play for on the last day, and would have thrown the gauntlet down for the Mumbai batsmen, who would have had no choice but to go for the target, since otherwise they had lost the game on first-innings lead.

And so we had another day of low-pressure, low-challenge cricket, which, as it turns out, is ingrained in India's domestic structure. The idea of challenging yourself to discover how good you can be is unfortunately considered outdated, unfashionable or just stupid. Which is such a pity.

To go back to Halve's question: is this a national trait, to effectively do just enough to get a favourable but sub-optimal result? And is this reluctance to take pressure reflected in a fragility that is manifest when pressure is inevitable? It is for the social scientists to examine whether this is a national trait, but on the evidence of a little bit of research, I have to conclude that it is an overwhelming feature of Indian cricket.

Let's start at the top and the now infamous Test in Dominica in 2011. India, leading the series 1-0, had to make 180 from 47 overs to win. Their worst-case scenario, a defeat, was remote. By the time they moved to a target of 86 from 15 overs, with seven wickets in hand, it had disappeared. India could either draw or win. They chose to draw rather than challenge themselves to win. The result was favourable (a series win) but sub-optimal (1-0 instead of 2-0). It suggested India didn't want to be pushed.

One level lower, we saw the mindset in the Irani Cup. Even more unfortunate was Mumbai's approach in their Ranji Trophy match against Gujarat. Needing 135 from a minimum of 41 overs to seal an outright win, Mumbai opted to dawdle to 65 for 1 from 27 overs, with opener Kaustubh Pawar scoring 15 not out from 88 balls. If you love bright, attacking cricket, you would have been particularly pained by the statement by the Mumbai coach: "It wasn't really going to matter eventually - whether we went for the target or not. The fact is, we have achieved the objective of qualifying." Mumbai allowed themselves to play dull, purposeless cricket instead of challenging themselves for a superior cause.

Go lower and at Under-16 level you have a similar attitude. It is inevitable, for youngsters to be looking at what senior cricketers do. Sample this from Mumbai v Jharkhand in the Vijay Merchant Trophy quarter-final. Mumbai made 360 and bowled Jharkhand out for 46. Facing a seemingly inevitable innings defeat, Jharkhand found themselves fielding again while Mumbai made 440 for 9, a lead of 754. They then left Jharkhand around 33 overs of batting. The moment Mumbai's lead went beyond 450 or 500, there was no competitive interest left in the match, and the only purpose was generating numbers - statistics that would look good on paper, batting averages. What you didn't get was a contest that would make those numbers relevant.

Worse still by batting on, you are looking at generating batting numbers rather than allowing bowlers to win the match in the fourth innings. By the time the bowlers are given their shot, there was no competitive element left in the game. How do you produce attacking bowlers who can win you a game in a 50-50 situation on the last day if they don't get the practice to do so? By minimising the maximum payoff possible for the opposition, teams, and therefore Indian cricket, lose out much more in the long run.

From time to time, the technical committee of the BCCI has tried to make winning outright more attractive than winning by merely achieving a first-innings lead, but committees cannot change mindsets that have been ingrained over generations. Till the mindset changes to one that rewards winning, India will have to live with batsman-dominated-but-largely-uncompetitive cricket.

Minimax might be a good concept in some business situations, even in some sports, but it is harming Indian cricket.

By Harsha Bhogle for ESPN.

The problem with women's cricket in India.

It's not played by schoolgirls, so where will the talent feed for U-19 and state cricket come from?

Walk into any school in India and you will see a group of boys playing cricket, organised or not, in the playground. Have you ever seen girls playing instead? My guess is no. Here lies the starting point for any story about Indian women's cricket.

Women's cricket has travelled a long distance in the country - from its beginning under the Women's Cricket Association of India (WCAI), when players had to pay to play tournaments, to now, when Indian girls have travel and accommodation expenses paid for, receive a match fee and a daily allowance. The game is run by the BCCI these days and that has led to many benefits, but there are still areas in which the WCAI, women cricketers will tell you, did a better job.

"Girls played many more domestic and international games, but now things have changed drastically," says one disgruntled player. "The Indian women hardly play any international matches, and the number of domestic tournaments has reduced considerably."

For women's cricket to develop and grow, the BCCI and state associations must increase participation at the grassroots level. I played state cricket for Hyderabad and I can tell you that for women's cricket, the grassroots is tough terrain.

Most boys begin playing cricket, unofficially or officially, when they are ten or 11 years old. They have the opportunity to play for their school (sometimes the school even has "inter-class" matches) or district, and soon enough get the chance to represent the state. At the school level, girls in India have practically no opportunity to play cricket.

Women's cricket in the country is simply divided into two categories, Under-19 and seniors (state/Ranji Trophy level). There are no school or club matches that help selectors pick at the U-19 level, so a player only gets to play matches if she is considered "good enough" to be selected in the state team. Most girls who graduate from U-19 make it to the senior team, but those who don't usually give up the game.

This lack of opportunity is the biggest concern for women's cricket. "If girls aren't given the chance to play more matches, our standards will never rise," says Sunitha Anand, a wicketkeeper from Hyderabad, who was part of the Indian team that won the Twenty20 Asia Cup held in China last year. "You only find out how much you have developed as a player when you play in a match. Nets can take you only so far; matches are what really count."

She says schools must be encouraged to have girls' cricket teams as well. "When more girls play, competition will increase, and as a result, standards will rise. It is only when you are competing for something that you continue to get better. When you know there is no one pushing for your place, you tend to stagnate."

For young girls who want to start playing cricket, finding a proper coach or an academy becomes the next hurdle. I know of many girls who had trouble in this regard; this when every neighbourhood in India seems to have a "cricket academy". The truth is that many academies don't accommodate girls, and therefore there are very few places where girls can be coached.

	A nine-year-old who wanted to play walked into the Arshad Ayub Academy. The coaches looked at her uncertainly, saying she was too young and probably would not settle in well with the boys. She insisted, "I'm better than the boys. I'll show you. I want to play"

In 2007, three girls I know who had already represented one southern state were turned away by a coach who said he had "no time to train girls". A nine-year-old who desperately wanted to begin playing cricket walked into the Arshad Ayub Academy. The coaches looked at her uncertainly, saying she was too young and would probably not settle in well with the boys. She insisted, "I'm better than the boys. I'll show you. I want to play." Rachna Kumar, now a member of the Hyderabad Senior team, thus became one of very few girls to gain admission to such centres.

If only more coaches were willing to allow the girls to play with the boys. There would be such an improvement in the women's game, and I honestly believe more girls would begin to play.

"I have a lot of friends who want to play cricket just for fun," says Kumar. "They don't want to take it up seriously, so joining the women's academy in Gymkhana [Hyderabad] would be pointless, but then again, there is nowhere else they can go. It would really help if there were other places where girls could learn to play recreational cricket, even if they aren't serious about it."

For those girls who do end up playing for their state teams, life is not much easier. The practice facilities provided are reasonably good, but when it comes to playing practice matches, the available grounds tend to be very far away, because the centrally located grounds tend to give priority to the boys' teams. Sometimes parents have to take the day off to make sure their daughter has a safe ride to the venue.

Many of these grounds, located almost on the outskirts of the city, don't have proper toilets - if they have them at all. Some have bathrooms without doors, some without running water, others with broken commodes. There have been times when, in order to use a bathroom, players have had to walk over to a nearby shopping mall or theatre. "Girls know nothing of 'comfort breaks' - the grounds we play on train us not to take them," says Anand.

Women's cricket in India is still not a fully professional sport - meaning one can neither make a living from it nor find financial support. Match fees and the daily allowance (for a five-match tour) together probably cover the cost of a good bat. Quality gear comes at a price - approximately Rs 10,500, excluding the bat, which costs around Rs 10,000 for a good one.

Most of the boys who play for the state at junior level have sponsors who hand out free equipment. If you grow in stature and play at the Ranji Trophy level, these commercial contracts sometimes provide an income as well. Girls, on the other hand, even the ones who play for the country (let alone the state players), find it difficult to get sponsorship for their gear.

Women's cricket in India needs to grow, and for that it's important that more girls are given a chance to play in school. When a team does well and wins, interest is generated. That's exactly what has happened with women's badminton in India, thanks largely to Olympic bronze medalist Saina Nehwal. That is what happened with men's cricket after 1983.

Hosting a World Cup is great for the exposure it gives women's cricket, but more needs to change - encouraging girls to play at schools, opening up academies to girls, and ensuring that the real change for the women's game takes place, not with a World Cup every few years, but at the grassroots.

India vs Australia 2013: Dhawan could open the innings with Sehwag and Rahane could come at No 6.

India’s squad for the first two Tests against Australia: MS Dhoni (captain), Virender Sehwag, Shikhar Dhawan, Cheteshwar Pujara, Sachin Tendulkar, Virat Kohli, Ravindra Jadeja, Ravichandran Ashwin, Pragyan Ojha, Bhuvneshwar Kumar, Ajinkya Rahane, Ashok Dinda, Murali Vijay, Ishant Sharma and Harbhajan Singh.

the selectors have gone in with a total of four openers – two of them being back-ups. There is a three-way tussle to decide who Sehwag’s opening partner will be. Dhawan, Vijay and Rahane have put forward their cases with strong performances in the Irani Trophy game. Vijay seems to be front-runner because of his recent hundred and the fact that he has played Test cricket. However, he had a very ordinary season and Dhawan’s returns were much better. Wasim Jaffer misses out yet again despite scoring tons of runs this season, including a hundred in the Irani Trophy. Through all that, Rahane’s case is interesting because there is a buzz that he might be considered for the No 6 spot.

Keeping Rahane on the bench isn’t doing him any good. In fact, it is denting his confidence big time. Giving him a shot at No 6 may be a good option in the long run and he can be promoted up the order when he settles in the line-up. But, standing in the way is the all-rounder Ravindra Jadeja, who gives Dhoni options in both departments. What Jadeja’s inclusion does is that it acts as a back-up to the frontline bowlers – should one of them have a bad game. Also, Dhoni can then come up to six and Jadeja can bat at seven – a strategy adopted during the Nagpur Test against England.

Raina’s fantastic outing in the Irani Trophy didn’t bear fruit and perhaps questions remain over his technique against the short ball. A fantastic talent like him is suffering because of that one fatal flaw. If he can correct it and return, Test cricket would watch him in full flow.
The race for the No 6 spot may also have its implications on the spin department. Ashwin’s form has dropped and Harbhajan’s past record against Australia may tempt a switch. Ojha should get in as his left-armers can provide variety to the attack. The wicket would also determine which of the three would play and if Jadeja also merits a place. Piyush Chawla, who did well at Nagpur against England, might feel a little hard done by as he isn’t in the side.

It was surprising that the selectors did not recall a fit again Shanthakumaran Sreesanth. India are now going to field a very young pace-attack, led by Ishant Sharma. Bhuvneshwar Kumar’s swing bowling has helped him into the side, while Dinda has also been given the green signal. Thus, India would have debutant fast bowler in this crucial series to partner Ishant, who has been a bit of an enigma. Sreesanth could have merited a call-up in this scenario.

Sehwag, Pujara, Tendulkar, Kohli and Dhoni are the real certainties in the line-up and there would be a lot of focus on the other spots.

This is a very important series for Tendulkar as he gears up for the Australian challenge. This should be the last time he faces Australia in India and an encore of those memorable battles is what a nation prays for.
There is an interesting setting at large – with several intriguing sub-plots to the script.

Courtesy: Nishad Pai Vaidya, Cricket Country

Why Indian Fast Bowlers are dropping pace "voluntarily"?

So, what’s in fashion this cricket season? It isn’t a particular brand and its gear, neither sporting a tattoo, nor a flashy hair style—our generation next cricketers have moved beyond such fads. The in-thing that I talk of is, bizarrely, a whole new understanding of the game, a version which is difficult to make sense of by old-school boys like me. What’s alarming is that most seem to be swearing by this new, warped philosophy. So what does it say—well, 1) that pace is an ‘overrated virtue’, and 2) that genuine fast bowlers are silly to invest time and energy in honing this skill.

Educating me on the subject of ‘neo-cricketism’ has been a fast bowler, in his late teens, with the ability to generate great pace for his age. This kid regularly made the batsmen, even the much senior batsmen, jump and hop. In fact, on first seeing him, and having been thoroughly impressed, I’d marked him as ‘one for the future’. The kid went on to play first-class cricket in India and I kept hearing good things about him. Well, my last rendezvous gave me an opportunity to know him closely and decipher the workings of many young minds like him even better, not particularly to my pleasure though.

For starters, he’s no longer obsessed with pace; in fact he’s lost a lot of it, voluntarily.

“Voluntarily?—who in his right mind would want to do that. Wasn’t it supposed to be one of the most potent weapons in a fast bowler’s armory?” I snapped like a nagging parent!

To that the kid, with an I-know-it-all look, informed me, “Have you had a look at the surfaces on which we play our cricket in India? C’mon, you were there for the Ranji final last year, weren’t you? Almost every bouncer bowled reached the wicketkeeper, who was standing no further than 10 yards from the batsman, in two bounces. Bowling quick is no longer a boon, but a bane!”

Alarmed by such talk, I still persisted, “That was just one game. Not all the games are played on such surfaces. I’ve heard that the BCCI has given directives to most curators around the country to make greenish pitches. Moreover, there’s an apparent dearth of bowlers who can bowl fast, and hence they are priceless. India reveres good bowlers!”

Not in a mood to back down, like most kids of his age, he continued, “How many endorsements did Zaheer Khan get after his sterling efforts to win the World Cup for India in 2011? Wasn’t his performance at par with many others in the team? The batsmen who didn’t even play all the games in the World Cup are seen in adverts more often. To say that we revere fast bowlers is false.”

I decided it was time to use the IPL card, for it was a sure shot way to lure this boy to change his mind. “There’s the IPL and we don’t have many Indian fast bowlers. We all know that in T20 cricket bowlers are worth their weight in gold. Anyone who can bowl four economical overs regularly is worth a lot more than the ones who can score at a strike-rate of 150.”

This was bound to work, I thought secretly. Alas! “Check your figures”, he said with a smirk. “Even the best bowlers in the IPL, the likes of Lasith Malinga and Dale Steyn are worth no more than a million, but even some second rate batsmen are taking home close to 2 million.” This one had just backfired badly!

Time for a role reversal, for getting angry wasn’t helping, and both logic and lure had also given up the quest. So, this time like a patient parent, I started all over again, “Point taken but it isn’t always about the money, son. Since there are many good batsmen around, the easiest and the quickest way to play for India is to bowl fast. If you’re able to do that, selectors will surely fast track your progress and you’ll be an India player in no time. You just need to clock 145 consistently (as if clocking 145 is a joke, but I needed to sound convincing).”

He smilingly, as if looking through my naïve tactics, replied, “You don’t have to bowl fast to play for India anymore; in fact I heard the (former) chairman of selectors Kris Srikkanth, while explaining the non-inclusion of Umesh Yadav, say that speed is an ‘overrated virtue’. But before you point out Umesh and [Varun] Aaron, let me remind you how unreasonable and cruel it is for people to expect bowlers in India to bowl fast. Even if you prepare good pitches on which the ball carries nicely to the keeper, would it take away from the fact that a bowler is expected to bowl 50 overs in a week? There are only three days between two first-class games, and if I want to feature in all of them (I should if I want to get enough wickets to get noticed), it is imperative for me to cut down on pace. If I want to bowl at 100% every time I bowl without cutting down on the number of overs and matches, I’ll get injured. Most bowlers in the country have mastered the art of bowling effectively at 70%. Moreover the SG Test ball we use in the Indian domestic circuit is more rewarding to the bowlers who, instead of hitting the deck hard, release the ball.”

Suddenly, it felt like I was making a case for fast bowlers in vain. In the ideal world, I would’ve wanted him to never give up pace. But he was probably right. Today it is more about being a ‘smart’ bowler than a mere ‘fast’ bowler—such are the changed dynamics of ‘neo-cricket’ in India.

The boy is now looking to work on his batting, and perfect the yorkers and slower-ones. These currencies are worth a lot more in the IPL market than the ability to just bowl fast, he updates me.

This fad among the fast bowlers isn’t a fad after all, I am afraid. It’s a risky philosophy to develop, a larger debate between ‘what’s good for the player’ and ‘what’s good for the game’. And that’s a precarious one to handle. Even more precarious for Indian cricket.

Source: Aakash Chopra