Memories of the Summer of 1983 have been slowly fading for
me for some time, but there will always be a warm glow associated with it. I was back with my parents in Bhubaneswar for
four months, enjoying the hiatus between the completion of my MS degree and the
commencement of my PhD program in USA.
My sister was getting married, and I was picking up on the basics of the
Hindu wedding ceremony from my father. A
few other cousins were also getting married in distant villages and visiting
them opened my eyes to the simplicity of life in rural Odisha. But the most vivid remembrance is that of being
glued for hours to the live telecast of India’s improbable victory in the 1983 Cricket
World Cup. Watching Kabir Khan’s paean
to Kapil Dev’s jawans the other day on Netflix brought those sepia-tinged
memories rushing back to life in glorious color.
And what memories they are!
Srikkanth’s cavalier attitude at the top of the wicket (an earlier
incarnation of Sehwag?), Mohinder “Jimmy” Amarnath doing his magic with both
bat and ball; Sandip Patil and Yashpal Sharma flailing away in the middle order;
and the trio of Madan Lal, Roger Binny and Kirti Azad pitching in every now and
then – with the young skipper Kapil Dev exhibiting an inordinate confidence in
himself and his team to accomplish the unthinkable.
But I had forgotten about Balwinder Singh Sandhu. “Ballu”, who had his engagement broken by his
future in-laws because a cricketer had no decent income those days. Ballu, who could not believe that the Indian team
was about to get Rs. 25,000/- collectively(!) if they won the World Cup. Ballu, who got hit on his left temple by a
bouncer in the final but still managed to add 22 valuable runs for the last wicket with Syed
Kirmani (out of a meagre total of 183).
And Ballu, who proceeded to castle Gordon Greenidge with a wicked
in-ducker that sharply nipped back after he had deviously taken the previous
ball away from the dashing opener.
As I watched the last hour of “83” unfold magically until
Mohinder Amarnath pinned Michael Holding lbw and the Indian fans invaded the pitch,
Ballu (and Kapil Dev, and many of his teammates) came to symbolize an attitude
of “hunger” while striving for respect that was in stark contrast to the
current state of Indian cricket. The astounding
riches of BCCI in general, and IPL in particular, from broadcasting rights seem
to have ushered in a sense of entitlement, security and complacence for the top-tier
cricketers who appear to take their place in the India national team for
granted. Abetted by lucrative central contracts
and sponsorship deals, they flit in and out of the team under the ruse of “workload
management”, with considerable latitude for failure. No wonder that the Indian team full of super
stars crashed and burned for a dismal and ignominious 36 all out in Adelaide
during the 2020-21 tour Down Under, whereas India’s B-team with a predominantly
motley cast of no-names pulled off the improbable Gabba heist against the same
Australian team a few weeks later. The
Sri Lankan team that won the Asia Cup recently, especially after the initial
drubbing by Afghanistan, is another exemplar of such a team with “hunger” – despite
being bereft of multiple superstars and with its engaging never-say-die
attitude.
The IPL is the richest T20 league in the world, where highly
compensated Indian players regularly rub shoulders against the very best of the
world. Yet, these very same players
consistently under-deliver in Indian national colors during multinational
tournaments – as has been the case in the 2021 World Cup and the 2022 Asia Cup. Add to that the current team management’s vexing
mantra of “we’ll give you a long rope to show us what you can do” but “we’ll
constantly experiment with our team composition to add flexibility” – that
engenders a lack of clarity for some players about their specific role in the
playing eleven. All that brings to mind
is the Randy Newman jingle – “it’s a jungle out there, disorder and confusion
everywhere”.
One of the reasons why Kapil Dev’s jawans were able
to will themselves to exceed expectations and lift the 1983 World Cup was because
the cost of failure could have been significant to their professional career
and their livelihood. In the current
context, there appears to be no such penalty – especially for the upper echelon
members of the team. So long as this state
of affairs continues with minimal price to pay for non-performance, IMHO the
Indian national cricket team will most likely continue its record of misfiring
in major tournaments.
Needless to say, I will be delighted to be proven wrong in
the months and years to come (although I won't promise to literally eat my words like David Firth). I fervently hope that Rahul
Dravid and Rohit Sharma will soon converge on a new template that balances longevity,
stability, and consistency with past performance and future promise – leading
to triumphant campaigns at home and abroad.
In fact, I have just renewed my subscriptions for both Willow TV and
ESPN+ so that I don’t miss any live streaming opportunities beginning with the 2022 T20 World Cup in Australia. Chak de India!
