“Five-Day Test Cricket match is boring …” – NO,
IT IS NOT!
‘Freedom has a thousand
charms to show,
That Slaves, howe’er
contented, never know - William Cowper
The above lines carry least relevance to what I am going to
write in this post. No, I am not going to talk about the slaves that William
Cowper talked about. Rather, this post is about a kind of slave I am, to
five-day cricket test match, watching on TV, a luxury I am affording myself in
my retired life.
Yes, I am an anachronism. In this fast, get-it-done-yesterday
world, even leisure comes pre-packaged with moment–wise activity schedule. Of
course, without such a schedule, the vacationers would be lost. In my
understanding, a vacation should be schedule-free, but not for the current
corps of vacationers.
Yes, a Test Cricket match takes inordinate time, over five
days; approximately 30 hours. A One Day International (ODI) takes about 7 ½ hours;
a T20I, about 3 ½ hours. This slave to the test match is contented with seeing
any cricket on TV, but I miss the charms of a test match.
One question to make a point: Has an ODI or a T20I ever kept
you on the edge of your seat from morning (say, 09:00 hrs.) to about 16:30 hrs.?
They could not have. Never. But, I was stuck to my chair for the full duration of
a day’s play (including the lunch and tea breaks) for the test match at Eden
Gardens in Kolkata (was it Calcutta in 2001? Who cares?).
I may be wrong in the commas and periods of the events of the
fourth day of the match, India following on after its dismal first innings
score. But, just listen to my memory. Every ball bowled by Australia on that
day–I mean EVERY BALL–was a
potential last nail on Indian team’s coffin. Yet, the then mighty Australians were
denied, and how!
VVS Laxman and Rahul Dravid (the Wall) just dug in, dug in,
and dug in till stumps that day, fateful for the Australians. Every ball
mattered. Digging in did not mean Ken Barrington’s (English cricketer)
block-bloc-block strategy, but going after hittable balls with gusto (no sixes,
if I remember right; too risky). VVSL scored a double century and RD, a
century. Then, things happened on the final day and Harbhajan Singh took over
in Australia’s second innings, scalped three or four wickets, all crucial.
Till the end, it was edge-of-the-seat tension. Will Australia,
playing for a draw, be successful, an asterisked word, given the context India
won? Would it not be a blot on their reputation? Yes, and yes, and it was not
to be.
India won. That was how.
This was not a one-off. More
than a few decades earlier, I had heard, on All India Radio, Mansur Ali Khan,
Nawab of Pataudi, score a double century by sending the ball across the rope on
the last ball of a test match. That was excitement, even when everyone knew
that the match was ending in a draw. He scored 203, I vividly remember, hearing
it at my friend’s place, sneaking out of school. Yes, I have had my escapades!
One more, to round off, of
being a witness of an unedifying collapse, when Australia and India played a
test match at Chepauk. India was in a comfortable position. But, before I could
have finished that sentence, Indian batting collapsed.
At stumps the previous
day, Australians were reeling at 24 for 6 with all the biggies sent home. Then,
Ian Redpath hit a skier that Ajit Wadekar could not hold on to (the sun was in
his face, and it was on mine too, in the stands). The batsman made some 60 plus
and that turned out to have been enough for an Australian win. The missed
catch, there ended the match, a terrible loss.
Now, I am writing all of
these without referring to any scrap book (I have none on this topic), no
Googling. They just stayed in my mind as the voice of radio commentators, and,
in the last episode narrated, a dispiriting personal experience, in sports.
It is not impossible that
three or four decades later, some cricket fan now in his/her (my female cousin
knew cricket stats upside down) could recall similar details of excitement in
their ODI or T20I experience on TV.
I doubt it, though. There
are just too many of them and one’s brain shovels horse shit every so often.
In my mind, I still carry
them. So, it might not be about the format of the cricket, but more about how
much. I was slave to test cricket in my youth because that was the only game in
town. It ain’t so anymore.
Just musing: Will Cowper’s
lines resonate with descendants of slaves among today’s youth?
Raghuram Ekambaram