Kabir Khan’s 83 Brings Back Memories

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!

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