Yesterday, there was this most amusing vignette on television. It showed a frowny-faced Anshuman Gaekwad. Below his visage, just in case you didn't get the message, was the caption 'Naraaz'! So we knew -- Anshuman Gaikwad was angry. And what was he angry about? The television reporter had the story. It appears that the Indian coach was upset with the news out of the Oval, where Zimbabwe was being given a hiding by Pakistan. How, he demanded, could a team like Zimbabwe, that lost two games in the Super Six and was saved by rain from making that a clean 0-3 record, go to the semifinals while India, which played brilliantly through the competition -- you mean you don't know the stats? India has the highest score thus far against South Africa, India notched up 5 centuries in the league phase itself, India... never mind, you get the idea -- is now out and looking forward to an early flight home? Unfair, Gaekwad called it. Unjust. Not on. The rules are flawed. Blah, blah, blah. Surprised me, that. I mean, I would have expected the normally cool Anshuman 'Charlie' Gaekwad to have smilingly said, as he has done ad nauseam in course of his tenure, 'It is over, there is no sense in brooding about these things, we have put that defeat behind us and are looking forward to..' whatever the next tournament is. So now I know -- Anshuman Gaekwad ko bhi gussa aata hai. Lekin, Anshu-bhai, wouldn't you say that the anger, like most else with the side, is too little, too late, and too ill directed? Say what you like about our cricket team, and about the Indian fan, there is one thing people have never accused them or us of being. That is whingers -- and to me, the guy who cribs and cringes is the very worst kind of sportsman. Let us not, at this late date, fill that gap in our curriculum vitae and whinge with the best of them, huh? The rules were known, to all concerned, ages ago. It was apparent to all of us, all along, that the way this competition was structured, there was no such thing as a free ride. You had to be up for every game, you had to focus on winning every game, because that was the only way you could be SURE of your spot in the next phase. But that has never been our way, has it? Think back to recent history. The SBI ODI series in South Africa, where we played good cricket one day and bad cricket the next, and ended up going into the final league match in a do-or-die situation at Benoni. Think back, even earlier, to the Titan Cup triangular featuring India, Australia, South Africa. Again, a last ditch qualification. Think about the Sharjah series last year, when India in its last game needed to score runs at a certain pace to pip New Zealand to a spot in the final against Australia. And of course, this World Cup itself -- where India, two down after two games, went in having to win the last three games to get into the Super Six. On each of the occasions mentioned above, India did manage that last ditch effort at the 11th hour -- but the wheels have finally come off the wagon, haven't they? And that too on the biggest stage of them all? Could we for a moment stop looking at the rule books, Mr Gaekwad? No one is claiming the rules are perfect -- no set of rules ever is. But after all, the other 11 teams in the competition played with the same set of rules, the same conditions, employed the same calculations. If some -- who you might think are less deserving -- are ahead of us at this stage, it is not the fault of the rule books, but of ourselves. There is an aphorism turned cliche all of us might do well to recall at this stage: 'Those who don't learn from their mistakes are condemned to repeat it'. What is the mistake we never learnt from? This -- that our cricketing think tank has been powered by the 'chalta-hai, tomorrow is another day' formula borrowed presumably from Scarlett O'Hara. Suddenly, for you, for the team, for us the fans, there is no tomorrow. At least now, could we stop waffling about rule books and the cruel injustices of life, and take a good, hard look at ourselves? And admit that if we are out of the competition, perhaps the blame rests with ourselves? Hey, the simple truth is, Zimbabwe beat South Africa and India and entered the Super Sixes with four points to its name. And it was obvious right from the start that any team that managed to reach that level with maximum points would almost inevitably qualify for the semis. I mean, look at Pakistan -- two back to back defeats in the Super Six stage, but thanks to the four points they carried through by playing out of their skins in the league phase, no worries, a smooth qualification by beating the easy opponent. We could have done the same thing, couldn't we? Time after time, when India loses matches it should have won and the media asks why, you have said, 'We can't keep brooding about the past, we have put all that behind us, we are looking forward to the next match'. More, you -- and Indian skipper Mohammad Azharuddin -- have often suggested that the real blame rests with the media, with its constant harping about earlier results. It didn't occur to you, did it, that the media was not 'harping', but merely trying to analyse what had gone before, trying to find the mistakes in order that corrective measures could be thought about? So what did go wrong? Take the first game. The attitude, going in against South Africa, was -- 'Ah, these guys are the favourites, they are a superb team, we can take a loss to them because it won't matter in the long run, we can beat all the other teams and get through into the Super Six, after all didn't we beat England and Sri Lanka recently and as for Zimbabwe, pooh!' So we went in there at Hove not looking to win, but merely looking to 'do well'. Did it occur to the team that 'doing well' doesn't show on the scoreboard, only wins, points, and run rates do? We 'did well'. The vaunted South African attack, we consoled ourselves, could take only one wicket -- that too a gift from Sachin Tendulkar -- in 40 overs of trying their damndest. And we said, at the end of the match, that the defeat didn't matter, that we have learnt our lessons, that we have put that match behind us and know what we need to do now. And what did we do? We played horribly against Zimbabwe, and lost again. Having given away wides by the dozen in the first match, was there an attempt to tighten up in the second? No. Having realised that runs in the middle and later stages of our innings could play a vital part, did we concentrate on giving our tailenders adequate batting practise? No. Given the propensity of the top order to throw their wickets away after being very well set, did we try to inculcate in them the thinking that once they get in, they should see the thing through? No. So what precisely were the lessons we supposedly learnt from that Hove match against South Africa, pray? And while on the subject, go back in time to that Zimbabwe game. We did our best to throw it away. An opener who was set played the stupidest shot in the business, one ball after being warned by his vice-captain, then the non-striker, to take it easy. Mistakes proliferated during the chase. And yet, no matter how hard we tried to throw the game away, the Zimbabweans tried that much harder to throw it right back at us. So finally, we had this situation were 9 runs were needed off 12 balls, with three wickets in hand. A doddle, for any Ranji Trophy side against that attack. Anyone who has played cricket at any level will tell you that when you face that kind of a death situation, the sane, sensible ploy is to play the percentages, work the singles, chip away at the target and ensure that whatever happens, no more wickets fall because it is only wickets going down that can make you lose from that position. So what did we do? When Campbell tossed the ball to Henry Olonga -- who in his first spell had tried harder than the other 10 Zimbabweans combined to throw the game into our pockets -- we sent out an unneeded pair of gloves to the batsman at the crease. And with those gloves went the message: 'Finish the game off in this over'. Why? When the need was for sensible cricket, why were instructions specifically sent out asking for the opposite? What was the 'thinking' behind that message? Was there something in the rule books we haven't seen, which gives a side bonus points for 'finishing it off' in 49 rather than 50 overs? Haven't we seen enough of Srinath over the years to know that when he is asked to mix caution with aggression he does well enough, but when he is told to hit out at everything, he is apt to get himself out? Knowing that, did we need to send out that message? We lost the match -- and with it, the World Cup -- in that one moment of madness. Fine. It's done. The milk is well and truly spilt. Let us, at the least, have the grace to admit that our own lack of foresight, our unthinking arrogance, brought about our downfall. Let us not add insult to self-inflicted injury by turning whingers. Your anger, Mr Gaekwad, would have been appropriate, had it been directed at the team after the defeat against South Africa from a winning position. Today, it is merely farcical. And it demeans us, the fans who have invested so much of our emotion in you and in the team you coach. Please, spare us. And in passing, a little thought: Remember 1992? When South Africa got done in by the most ridiculous rain rule there ever was? They cried, in the privacy of their dressing rooms. And then, over the succeeding years, used their tremendous clout to get the rules changed. Did you know that it was purely due to South Africa's efforts that the Super Six concept was introduced this year? That's the way to go -- if you don't like the rules, lobby the heck out of them and have them changed. What is the point of having an Indian at the head of the ICC anyways? Prem Panicker will take a well deserved break after the World Cup.
HOME | NEWS | BUSINESS | SPORTS | MOVIES | CHAT | INFOTECH | TRAVEL | SINGLES BOOK SHOP | MUSIC SHOP | GIFT SHOP | HOTEL RESERVATIONS | WORLD CUP 99 EDUCATION | PERSONAL HOMEPAGES | FREE EMAIL | FEEDBACK