Saurav Ganguly: His Facts and My Fiction

An Informal Conclusion:

If I say that I dislike Saurav’s cricket, then I am probably lying; and if I say that I like him continuing in the team, then I am certainly being foolish. Owing to his consistent bad form, I wish he resigns on his own, before being forcibly removed. But almost all Indian cricketing stalwarts have left the game with a bad patch: In his last match, Kapil ended up with an expensive economy of 7.4; Srinath’s last game was the WC03 final against Pointing’s merciless onslaught and he ended up giving 82 runs in his 10-over spell; WC1992 was Krish Srikkanth’s worst tournament and he never turned up again in the national squad; Azhar’s exit was more worse; many others’ exit was pitiably unrecognized. I wish atleast one cricketing hero in India gets a fitting exit.

His Facts: It’s Just about Him

First let me tell about one thing: Politics, the contemporary term used for ‘recommendations’, existed in Indian cricket since long, much before the Dalmiyas, Dungarpurs and Gavaskars. Considering the less money involved in those days, we can infer that the intensity was less then. As the money involved in the game cumulated, so did the politics. And so did the media hype.

1992: A young lad, aloof from other team members, was sitting in the pavilion looking at how the Indian team meekly submitted to the mighty Australian attack (Bensons and Hedges World Series 1992). He was hardly sent to play in the middle. The only match he was sent was against the Windies and he was scalped for a mere 3 runs. The newspapers reported his unimpressive performance and his refusal to carry drinks to the middle. He was considered to be in the team because of his rich father’s ‘politics’. Adding to his woes, fate mercilessly smiled at his face; after the series, he was dropped. The newspapers were searching a new face to criticize. An average Indian cricket fan hardly realized that there was player named Saurav Chandidas Ganguly.

1996 onwards: Just before the storm begins, the wind stops for a while. It was a very silent phase of Indian cricket when the team shivered to play on pitches outside the subcontinent. Having lost the first test against England, the Indian team had two new players for the next test at Lords. Saurav was one among them. The storm began.
After scoring successive centuries in his first two tests, Saurav proved worthy of his place in the team by showing his mettle even in the one-day format of the game. The media, which was already obsessed with some ‘gods’ and ‘demi-gods’, could not fully accept this arrogant man leading the score-boards. I could call it the media-ego, which made it raise a fuss over the deficiencies which Saurav had in his technique. But the song he played on the pitch was so melodious that the public had to put aside the media comments.
The Sahara Cup in Toronto in 1997, against the arch-rivals Pakistan, was the series of his life, at the end of which, he was suspected to be an all-rounder than merely a batsman. He ended up with batting average of 55.50 and a bowling average of 10.33 for that 5-match series; he won the MoM for four of the matches and finally was declared the Man of the Series.
Any ball that was pitched an-inch outside the off-stump, met the boundary line in no time. It was a reflex: giving himself some room, slash the bat at the ball with a simplicity beyond imagination and stand at the crease, looking at how the ball obeyed his command. Most of the times, the ball obeyed his command like a devotee. That’s why, by some sectors of the media, he was labeled: The God on the Offside.
In 1999-2000, when he was given the opportunity to lead the Indian side, the team was like a bunch of talented people heading nowhere. No one, probably not even him, knows what worked for the team; I call it a bit of arrogance in his nature and a bit of ‘luck’. His captaincy was making the team head towards an increased win-rate, especially overseas. More than the win-rate, the note-worthy thing was the new characteristic that was added: fighting spirit. During his captaincy the team performance dominated individual performances: a shade that was new to the team’s attitude.
A King must behave like a King. May be that’s what he believed and so, never bowed his head; he was very arrogant for a common man. In 2001 when Steve Waugh's Australian team played a three-Test series in India, Saurav had been given charge for only those three games. Saurav was accidentally late for the toss on the morning of the first Test in Bombay, and kept Waugh waiting in his blazer and the heat for five to ten minutes. Steve Waugh did not appreciate Saurav’s delay and was livid when the young India captain arrived for the toss. Australia won the Test but Saurav, in the next two Test matches, deliberately kept Waugh waiting at each toss. Saurav’s confidence and his confrontational approach on the field took the Australians by surprise. Saurav had got the better of the Australian captain and India won the series 2-1.
A Leader never allows his team to go through an insult. If it ever does, he doesn’t wait long to take revenge. In less than six months, after Flintoff danced bare-chested on England’s victory over India at Mumbai, Saurav did not hesitate to simulate the act at Lords on the famous Natwest Series final. There were several other victories which will shine bright in the history of Indian cricket for long.
The best thing to tell about Saurav’s leadership is that he talks like a leader. Be it victory or failure, his after-match words are confident, well-composed and straight-forward. Most of the times, I felt that he has planned to speak all those words much before he capped his place in the national squad.

An Unconditional decline: After his brilliant test century against Australia in 2003, Saurav never really played a mention-worthy innings. Proving that he is a normal man, he has succumbed to the pressures: the pressures from various departments --- the media, the cricket fans, the coach, and finally himself. Yes! I attribute most of his failure to his fear on himself ---- I meant, lack of self-confidence. He was so frustrated of his failure that, he is desperate for a big score – no matter how it comes. That desperation has cost him a lot of dismissals. Adding to his woes, facing bouncers or short-pitched deliveries has become his Achilles’ heel; and this has been capitalized by many bowlers to scalp him.
The media too never spared him. When he had a couple of good scores, the media wrote them off as stating them to be against ‘weaker’ oppositions. Now regarding this, I had just one question, for which I may not get a right answer from anyone: Why have others failed in the matches against the so-called weaker oppositions, when Saurav has succeeded? I still remember the match against Kenya, in WC2003, when even Rahul Dravid was finding it difficult to play against the some spinners. Dravid was dismissed for 32 of 73 balls and Sachin was dismissed for 5 of 12 balls. Does that make Dravid and Sachin incapable players? Similar instances recurred enough times to prove that Saurav, no matter what he scores, is the centre of mockery. This has affected a lot on his confidence. After all, he is human and is affected by criticism!
I have seen the post-match talk with Saurav after his most controversial century against Zimbabwe, when he was asked if he was told to step down. He was in a very happy mood after he got a century that day, and in the same mood, without much thought, he agreed with one single word: ‘Yes’; because he was in a kind-of trance to realize how nightmarish that one word can cost him. The media has used all its ‘screwing’ logistics to instigate every concerned person and blew up the issue. In no time, he has become a villain --- an ‘unprofessional attitude’ tag was cast on him. Everything and everyone turned against him --- some of his team-players, his supporters in the board, most of the cricket-lovers across the country; everyone was baying for his blood. A reputation lost with a single word!

Sep 26, 2005: As he glanced at the photo in the newspaper, he didn’t feel of looking at it any more; but he looked at it as if he was destined to look at it. Saurav felt the nadir of his life. How much does a 5-year old kid know about what is really happening ‘behind the obvious frames’ of a cricket-match? In the photo, the young 5-year old kid held Saurav’s cutout with many others as a protest against his inclusion in the team. As the normal human psychology goes, any person may care less if he is hated by a grown up; but if an innocent kid is serious on him, the depression is shattering and the pain, excruciating. In such a situation, there are two ways a person can react: either he can break-down completely or he can take up the challenge to win back the lost reputation. I wish Saurav falls in the latter category.

My Fiction: The Perfect Ending

My imagination takes me to a future day, when Dada is back in the team (ODI) and on a fine day, Indian team is playing against the creators of the game: England. Anyone hardly noticed when he came in to play and score runs. With some sensible and valiant stroke-play, Dada equals Saeed Anwar’s highest ODI score. Everyone is eager on how much the team would score. It’s just one run required to make the team total cross the 400 run mark: the first in the history if ODIs. And it’s the last ball too.
Within a moment after the ball left the bowler’s hand, Dada is seen coming down the pitch, swinging the bat to make a gracefully powerful stroke…. Everyone liked the sight: the crowds, the players, even the bowler himself and the ball itself… the ball felt so much respected by being hit with such a grace that, as a salute to the player, it did not touch the ground until it left the stadium.
The shot made him the first man to make a double-century in the history of ODIs. The media and public are compelled to speak high of him; so as to make sense! And many await the next match expecting Dada’s failure then. But, unfortunately for them, Dada declares his resignation the next day.