The sheer magnitude of the peaks and valleys Indian cricket has traversed over the last few days is crazy. India defeated England in handsome fashion in Chennai, amidst hectic chatter about the spinning pitch at Chepauk Stadium. These complaints about the nature of spinning tracks by the English media and former players reveal the subtle yet visible vestiges of sports gate-keeping. Snehal Pradhan puts it perfectly in her piece
Hot days and dry pitches aren’t bad, aren’t doctored, aren’t snake pits. They’re just different. Your dislike of turning pitches is one of cricket’s unwanted traditions. No, actually it’s a prejudice.
On the subject of spin, I recently learned that India’s first great cricketer - Palwankar Baloo, was not a swashbuckling batsman or a knock-em over pace bowler, but a left-arm orthodox spin bowler. ‘A Corner of a Foreign Field’, Ramchandra Guha’s wonderful deep-dive into the history of Indian cricket, dedicates large swaths of the book in talking about Baloo - a mighty figure in Indian cricket as well as a Dalit icon who overcame crippling discrimination within and outside the confines of cricket fields. Cricket in India has been inextricably linked to society since its very inception. The progress of Indian cricket in its early years often mirrored the ups and downs of the freedom struggle. The sport was colored with biases, traditions, and religious prejudices that were rampant in those days. However, then India was forged and cricket stopped being organized along communal lines.
But, how free can we expect cricket in India to be from the India of 2021? Here’s what transpired last week - Wasim Jaffer, the most prolific run-scorer in first-class cricket, and current coach of the Uttarakhand Ranji team resigned from his post citing “interference and bias of selectors and secretary in the selection matters for non-deserving players.” In response, Mahim Verma, the Uttarakhand cricketing board secretary accused Jaffer of communal bias and favoring Muslim cricketers, an allegation Jaffer was then forced to defend. Sharda Ugra’s in her aptly titled piece - “In cricket gear, a snapshot of India today”, had a scathing (appropriately so) indictment.
Cricket Association of Uttarakhand (CAU) secretary Mahim Verma framed Indian cricket with a familiar political narrative meant to reinforce stereotype, destroy reputation, cause damage and protect his own skin. What he actually did was reveal the venality of our cricket administration and the shallowness of its wealthy and influential. A snapshot of contemporary India, except clad in cricket kit…Politicians involved in Indian cricket usually sought clout, office, money and match passes. The Jaffer affair exposes our game to the poison-spreading day job of its political volk. Mr. Verma’s casual induction of Mr. Jaffer’s Muslim-ness in a debate over cricketing competence injects a new toxicity that could corrode Indian cricket from its roots. One petty official, one corrupt association at a time. There is no shortage of those.
When, current Indian Test Cricket vice-captain, Ajinkya Rahane was asked to comment on this issue, he said “I don’t have an idea regarding this issue...”. It must be noted that Rahane has shared the dressing room with Jaffer as his teammate in the Mumbai Ranji side. Mukul Kesavan didn’t mince his words in this excellent piece - Jaffer alone - The mute maestros of Indian cricket.
It’s fair to say that he knows Jaffer. And it’s hard to believe that he doesn’t know that Jaffer’s been accused of communalism. He lives in a bio-secure bubble, not under a rock. Just a week ago, Rahane, Sharma, Kohli, Shastri and Tendulkar, prompted by the powers that be, were tweeting in chorus against foreign commentary on the farmers’ agitation. #IndiaTogether was Rahane’s preferred hashtag. Someone should tell this Mumbai batsman that unity begins at home.
Jaffer has been a stalwart of Mumbai cricket for many years. That so many powerful cricketers from the Mumbai sphere chose to remain silent and didn't publicly defend Jaffer is not altogether surprising, though it is appalling. Perhaps the most egregious silence of them all comes from the corner of a certain Sachin Tendulkar. One wonders what someone of the stature of Tendulkar had to lose in coming out in public support of his teammate. I’ve been locked in intense debate with many over this topic. Is it altogether so unreasonable to expect a semblance of a spine from India’s most venerated and deified sporting personality? Kesavan writes, referring to Tendulkar, Dravid, and Ganguly respectively,
… what is the point of being a cricket immortal if you can’t stand up for a teammate publicly accused of bigotry by a petty official? What price your Bharat Ratna if you can’t practise that basic republican virtue, fraternity, within the narrow bounds of your sport? How seriously can we take the well-turned sentences of your Bradman Oration if you can’t spare a dozen words to comfort a beleaguered colleague who you once shared a dressing room with? Why become the president of the BCCI if, on your watch, a cricketer noted for his professionalism and integrity can be defamed by your minions?
In my debates, the dominating sentiment is that it’s Tendulkar’s prerogative to publicly support Jaffer and this matter must be solved from within existent machinery. Maybe the complicated calculus of how much a person has to lose and how vocal he can be isn’t something we should deal with. Should sportspersons be expected to take a stand and if they don’t, must they be vilified for not doing so? In Tendulkar's case, the collective disappointment is largely owing to how big a figure he, how firm a ground he occupies in the Indian consciousness, and yet how little he uses that leeway to take a stand. This old piece comparing Muhammad Ali and Tendulkar hits the nail on the head and rings true today,
… But not speaking out and wasting a mandate that he has so diligently earned like Ali, is a bigger breach of trust. It’s high time Tendulkar realises that even if he goes wrong, those episodes will be forgotten like those many rush-of-blood dismissals or the lean periods of run-making.
Tendulkar’s silence in this matter bears a stark contrast to how two of his own sporting icons behaved in similar situations. Muhammad Ali was famously outspoken and his courage outside the ring is perhaps why his greatness transcends sport and will stand the test of time. A Vox video titled - Muhammad Ali’s biggest fights were outside the ring is a nice companion to this discussion. Don Bradman stood up against the racist apartheid policy prevalent in South Africa and in his capacity as Chairman of the Australian Cricket board canceled a South-African cricket tour. Apparently, when he spoke with the racist P.M of South Africa who thought black cricketers are intellectually incapable to play cricket, he quipped back with something on the lines of - Bro, have you ever heard of a certain Gary Sobers. It’s naive to think that sport is not political. Naomi Osaka distills this in her NYT piece,
Sports have never been apolitical, and as long as they continue to be played by human beings, they won’t be.
For me, this entire debate boils down to something pretty basic. There is no place for communal-based discrimination in cricket or any sport for that matter. Here’s Mohammad Kaif being all class and awesome in this piece,
As a country, we need to do a lot of soul-searching. We are at a vital point in our history; we can’t afford to divide ourselves. It’s dangerous and self-defeating in the end. I understand sports don’t exist in some special bio-bubble; it will reflect our society at large. But in my understanding, sports, and cricket in particular, has been one field where excellence, equal opportunity, and freedom of choice, have ruled. It has set a great example.
It’s funny that Tendulkar believes that India’s sovereignty is under threat after two mere tweets, but when India’s pluralistic ethos was questioned, cricket’s unwelcomeness to communal bias was soiled, Tendulkar the Bharat Ratna and Tendulkar the cricketer chose to remain silent. In not standing up for his cricket teammate Tendulkar betrayed the spirit of the very sport that made him who he is. But, in not calling out the forces that slandered Wasim Jafer, he betrayed the very idea of a united nation he called for in his tweets.
One of the comments in this Caravan piece on Tendulkar’s timidness caught my attention. It said - “Why do we attach so much importance to our cricketing stars? They are just cricketers, not philosophers or social thinkers, or activists. Aren't we the gullible ones who expect them to take a moral or ethical stand?”. This got me thinking. If only these human frailties didn’t exist. If only we weren’t gullible to the charms of false Gods.
Here are some recommendations -
Eeb Allay Ooo! - Prateek Vat’s debut feature is now available on Netflix India. It’s a really interesting film that offers a window into a very specific world, but like most good films becomes about a much larger world. Soni by Ivan Ayr is also on Netflix and is an underrated gem that makes its point firmly but quietly and without flourish.
Longreads - This personal essay by Ann Patchett - These Precious Days was oddly comforting and is as good if not better than what people have been saying. It’s long but once you start reading it, you wouldn’t want to stop. Chloé Zhao’s forthcoming film - Nomadland is one I really want to watch. I loved this profile of hers - Chloé Zhao’s America, by Allison Willmore for Vulture.
I absolutely loved the hell out of Em and The Big Hoom by Jerry Pinto. If I wanted to underline paragraphs that moved me, I’d pretty much have to underline the whole book. Reading it was an intensely emotional journey and the book’s ending is the most gorgeous piece of writing I’ve read in a long long time.
I follow cricket and basketball closely and like to nerd out on statistics. No one does it better than Ben Taylor at Thinking Basketball on Youtube (basketball) and Jarrod Kimber for cricket.
Dice Media has put out some really nice Web Series on YouTube and What the Folks is one of their best ones. It starts off as a little, underproduced, fun show, but there are moments of depth as you move along that stayed with me. Do check it out.
Good Bones by Maggie Smith is one of my favorite poems of all time and is ever relevant. I find myself going back to it very often.
Good Bones
By Maggie Smith
Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.
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