It’s likely that you (like me) found your social media timeline flooded with people gushing about a drawn test match earlier this week. To understand this seemingly disproportionate response one has to understand why Test cricket stands in such stark contrast to other forms of cricket, even other sports altogether. But first, let’s quickly recap what transpired in the last few days.
The Indian cricket team has historically been poor travelers. I have many painful memories of waking up in the wee hours of the morning, only to see a complete batting collapse on tour in Australia or New Zealand. So, it’s heartening to see an Indian team show rare character and strength on foreign soil. In Sydney, nearing the end of day 4, India had their backs firmly against the wall - a formidable target of 400 runs and four sessions of batting to go against the most potent bowling attack in the world.
On day 5, Rishabh Pant launched one of the most audacious counterattacks in recent memory and put India in a position from where a win didn’t look entirely impossible. Then he and the other architect of this fight-back (Pujara) fell, and things looked dire. Ashwin (fighting a sore back) and Vihari (so hobbled with hamstring issues that he could barely move his feet) were tasked to survive a good 40 overs of continuous onslaught. And survive they did, sealing a draw which comes as close to a victory as any drawn test can, in the process.
That this test match was secured on Rahul Dravid’s birthday makes it that extra bit special. Dravid was the bastion of defensive batting during his time, the predominant Test match batsman of this era. Vihari has even credited him for being instrumental in his foray into international cricket. So, in some ways, his cricketing journey came full-circle when he ‘summoned the defiant spirit of Rahul Dravid’ to save the Sydney Test. This subplot is only one among the many the test match was replete with. Prithi, Ashwin’s wife, revealed the extent of Ashwin’s back injury in a tweet after the match ended and further elaborated on it is a wonderful piece. Her writing provides a unique peek into the life of a top-flight cricketer and took me back to Vijetha Dravid’s piece on Rahul Dravid’s retirement. Ashwin was dealt with some major body blows by the trio of Aussie pace bowlers. I loved this line among many gems from Prem Panicker’s masterful personal essay in the guise of cricket writing
Thighs, ribs, upper arm, shoulder – if you took his shirt off, you could see the story of his 128-ball defiance tattooed on his skin in shades of blue and purple.
Ashwin’s battle with his opposite number - Nathan Lyon is a prime example of a one-on-one we get to see only in Test Cricket. Wily off-spinner versus wily off-spinner. Lyon trying to breach Ashwin’s defense. Ashwin trying to read Lyon’s fingers and reaching out to block for his life. Limited overs cricket has an accelerated pace - Bowlers change spells more occasionally, Batsmen rotate strike much more too. This leaves little room for these contests. But, such contests are a huge part of what makes watching Test match rivetting. Another example of a classic mano-a-mano is the Pujara vs Pat Cummins one, with the latter getting the best of Pujara on many an occasion. I’d wager a bet that hitting Cummins for three consecutive boundaries must have felt good for Pujara. Harsha Bhogle sums up why Pujara presents a specific conundrum -
“Pujara, to the younger generation, is almost a curiosity. As the game moves more and more towards T20 which is the modern saviour of our game, the word resilience starts to go out because there is no time for resilience.”
In the first innings in Sydney, Pujara was heavily criticized for scoring his slowest half-century. He answered his critics by following up with his third slowest half-century, an innings whose importance can hardly be overstated. Pujara holding up an end allowed Pant room to attack. His defense was as much a part of India’s valiant counterpunch on day 5 as Pant’s relentless strokeplay. CricViz put up an incredible data-backed breakdown on the issue of Pujara and tempo in Test Matches and Mukul Kesavan (a writer I deeply admire) wrote a beautiful piece in defense of Pujara when he was earlier criticized. On the subject of answering critics, here’s Vihari being all class against Babul Supriyo’s crass remark.
Watching a test match demands time. It requires effort. It’s frustratingly dull for long stretches. But, it contains enough multitudes that if you’ve invested yourself in a game, it’s ebbs and flows are yours, it’s battles seem personal, and the accompanying joys and disappointments are visceral. Ramachandra Guha has written,
It is only the longer game that unfolds the range of possibilities that encourage the writer and in time enchant his reader – the exquisite crafting of an innings, the changes in fortune but always with the opportunities of redressal in a second innings, the skill of a spinner on a wearing wicket, and not the least, the great defensive innings that saves the match.
I’ve watched many a cricket game with a small crowd around me, but the most euphoric I have seen people be was after Laxman (also battling a back injury) batted his way to victory against Australia in a Test, supported only by the non-batting pair of Ishant Sharma and Pragyan Ojha. The Sydney test, drawn it may be, is a towering example of the alluring nature of a draw in cricket. Again, Guha puts it beautifully in his passionate defense of the draw
In allowing for, even encouraging, an honourable truce, the structure of cricket serves as a model for other spheres of social life. Theorists will tell you that in any political or legal system, fairness consists in leaving space for negotiation and compromise, for means of redressing balances so that there are no ultimate losers or winners.
Watching the Indian cricket team save the Sydney test (even after they had admirably won the Melbourne Test) was an oddly uplifting experience, the kind that made me feel whole. Sometimes things far out of dominant spheres in life can act like a balm. Comfort and inspiration can come from the most unexpected events and places. I’ll leave you with the ending of Prem Panickers’ magnificent piece.
For a little over a day this team — of which, thanks to an attrition without parallel in our history, I at least had little expectations — made memories to cherish. And, more importantly, helped me forget that an uncle who was the wind beneath my wings is no more; that as the fourth Test winds down to a close in Brisbane, I will be back in Calicut, immersing his ashes in the sea and bidding him a last farewell. To borrow from Shakespeare, ‘For this relief much thanks. ‘Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.’
Here are some recommendations for the week -
The Test on Amazon Prime Video follows the tumultuous time in Australian Cricket after the suspension of Steve Smith and David Warner. It’s perfect viewing for cricket season and has long sections on India vs Australia.
The respect the opposite numbers have for each other clearly shows in this conversation between Virat Kolhi and Steve Smith and it’s nice to see two competitive cricketers be candid on-screen. No sight in cricket is better than a fast swing bowler steaming in and no one did it better than James Anderson and Dale Steyn. Here, the two have a wonderful conversation about their careers and swing bowling.
For longreads too, I am sticking with cricket. Sharda Ugra is one of the best cricket writers out there and it doesn’t get better than this profile of Jasprit Bumrah - The boy called Boom. Praveen Kumar, a talented bowler who could swing it both ways fell out of fame fairly quickly. His is a cautionary tale of the rigors of professional sport and the addendums that come with it - ‘Let me just end my life’: Praveen Kumar on his struggle with depression. A bonus short read in which Rahul Desai writes about the restart of Test Cricket after the pandemic hit - Test cricket and the return of time.
Rahul Dravid was my role model growing up. Timeless Steel is a wonderful collection of essays on him. Some are written by sportswriters, some by coaches, and a few by players. It’s an eclectic mix that I obviously loved, but I am sure will make for a really fun read for even non-fans of Dravid (?).
Two songs - Aashayein from Iqbal (which is an excellent cricket movie) is my favorite ‘inspire-me’ song. Duur Kinara is an awesome collaboration between Shuba Mudgal and Indian folk-rock band, Swarathma.
A poem on resilience seems only fitting for the masterclass on resilience we saw the Indian cricket team give this week.
Optimism
By Jane Hirshfield
More and more I have come to admire resilience.
Not the simple resistance of a pillow, whose foam
returns over and over to the same shape, but the sinuous
tenacity of a tree: finding the light newly blocked on one side,
it turns in another. A blind intelligence, true.
But out of such persistence arose turtles, rivers,
mitochondria, figs -- all this resinous, unretractable earth.
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