Monthly Archive for January, 2011

Modi’s formula for World Cup Success

Published on January 28, 2011 in Latest. 8 Comments

[Originally appeared in Mirror - Mumbai, Bangalore Click Here ]

Church Street, Bangalore. Wednesday, 7.30 pm. There was a nip in the air and the crowd at the roadside pubs comprising bankers, advertising executives and open source techies was spilling over on to the pavement. As I walked down my favourite haunt, a face so familiar and yet so unfamiliar caught my attention. In retrospect, the khakis, corduroy jacket, dark glasses, fake beard and moustache should never have been disguise enough. The maru haircut, fidgety hand movements and over excitement at being photographed by a group of Japanese tourists should have immediately given away that he was none other than Lalit K Modi. “Sir, aap…?” I uttered in a mix of disbelief and anxiety. For the next sixty minutes, he spoke to me like a man who loves to talk but can’t find too many people listening to him anymore. Excerpts from the freewheeling chat given below.

Me: Sir, do you think the World Cup will be as exciting as the IPL?
LKM: No chance, yaar. In IPL, a tournament I created if you remember, each and every match is exciting. That’s why public loves it. But World Cup? Tell me, who wants to watch Bangladesh vs Ireland or Canada vs Zimbabwe?

Me: But sir, this is the World Cup.
LKM: Arrey yaar, so what? You can change some of the rules for the improvement of the sport, na. Why can’t we have 4 Indian players in each team? If I was in-charge, I would have got teams like Ireland and Canada to pick Dravid, Ganguly and Shahrukh Khan.

Me: But sir, he’s not a player…
LKM: Don’t insult a legend like Ganguly.

Me: Sir, what about the format?
LKM: Haha! You call this format? One month of boredom just to ensure India stays in the tournament for at least one month? I would have had a smaller group stage followed by Super Six, which would have top 5 teams plus India. And, if India doesn’t progress beyond that, the champions would play a match against India and the winner of that match will be the World Champions. See? In my format, even if India doesn’t win any match, it still stays in the tournament right till the end. In IPL, the tournament I created if you remember…

Me: Sir, what about ICC’s stipulation of 12 minutes of ads per 60 minutes?
LKM: Hah! ICC… they are going to kill the sport. 48 minutes of cricket in one hour? No wonder public is complaining about cricket overkill. But despite that, there are other ways to commercialise the sport. What are the commentators doing sitting in air conditioned boxes drinking coffee for? Use them, na. Ravi Shastri can always say ‘Just what Dr. Reddy’s ordered’ or ‘Yusuf Pathan believes Impossible is Nothing’. These are the innovations I brought in IPL, the tournament I created if you remember.

Me: Sir, I hear there are no cheerleaders in the World Cup.
LKM: They are so old fashioned yaar. Actually, why only cheerleaders, each country should have some famous actress from that country as mascot, who would also bring drinks and gives massages to players on the field. Like Canada can have Pamela Anderson, Australia can have Nathan Bracken.

Me: Sir, any other innovations from IPL, the tournament you created I remember, that can be used during World Cup?
LKM: Haan. Like in IPL, we had a Modi Cam, where one cameraperson was only following me. Public wants to see famous people, na. In this world cup also, they should have something like that. But… (thinks hard for 8 seconds)… World Cup has nobody famous. It’s ok. They can use me. And since I am an honorary commissioner who works for nothing other than commissions, I will do it for free.

Auctions? More like Blind Man’s Poker

Published on January 12, 2011 in Latest. 4 Comments

Originally appeared in the Mirror http://tinyurl.com/45gg9ew

On Sunday afternoon some of India’s richest and most famous people sat comfortably in the air conditioned confines of Bangalore’s eco friendly five star hotel indulging in a unique game of housie creatively called IPL player auctions. So comfortable were they that they didn’t even notice the tight slap across their faces. Actually, six tight slaps. 6, 6, 6, 4, 4, 6. Chris Gayle had just blasted 32 runs off one over at the KFC Big Bash in Australia. The previous day all IPL teams had rejected the big hitting West Indian but had fought over players like David Hussey, Davy Jacobs, and Shaun Marsh. In a strange sort of way, it was comforting to know that the ‘I’ in IPL would still not stand for ‘Intelligent’.

This was the first IPL event without Lalit Modi and not everything was the same. Rules were not being made/changed on the fly and disputes were not being settled in the Commissioner’s holy office. Instead, Sidharth Mallya decided to do a Sreesanth and walked over to the King’s XI table to settle a difference of opinion in a way that would make every fast bowler proud. If the Royal Challengers ever find themselves short of a fast bowling option, Jr. Mallya can always be counted upon to take up the responsibility, so long as he doesn’t misuse the copious amounts of gel in his hair to generate some extra swing.

Barring these minor issues, IPL auctions still had all the bearings of the Modi era. The two new teams fit in well with the IPL culture by choosing hideously coloured outfits. Shilpa Shetty, who till the other day couldn’t tell the difference between swing and spin, was seen deciding team compositions. Preity Zinta claimed that unearthing new overseas talent for the team was her department and showed it by buying Gilchrist, D Hussey, Stuart Broad and Shaun Marsh. Nita Ambani, after successfully buying Rohit Sharma, was congratulated via handshakes by a table full of lackeys as if she had coached the batsman. There were some new faces at some of the tables. Like the dude at the KKR table whose preparation for the auctions included watching half a dozen poker movies and hence decided to don dark glasses through the two days. Fortunately for the franchise, he did little else. The IPL committee, though, showed great foresight by categorising all players as batsmen, all rounders, fast bowlers, and spin bowlers. It wouldn’t have been polite to embarrass the great cricketing minds that had congregated at the cricket casino.

The result? Well, to sample a few. Papa Marsh made sure that chhota Marsh got in. King’s XI bought Piyush Chawla for a shade less than a million dollars while Murali Kartik, definitely a far better spinner in this format, remained unsold until the very end. Ravindra Jadeja, the only man in history to have single handedly cost his country two world cups and a world No. 1 ranking, went for $950,000. Graeme Swann went unsold while Johan Botha walked away an almost-millionaire.

But, the classic of IPL auctions was saved for Day 2. At the end of Day 1, word went around that Deccan Chargers’ coach Darren Lehmann had unearthed cricket’s best kept secret Dan Christian. None of the other teams had even heard of the guy except Kochi coach Geoff Lawson who seemed to support Lahmann’s view. The rumour was left to cook overnight. On Day 2, his name was marked by frenetic bidding almost as if IPL 2011 would be decided by who owns this lad. He was Day Two’s biggest buy.

An idea for the next hoax? Put in a name like Barton Ogazambi in the auction list, spread word about this great young talent from Kenya, and watch the fun while all teams fight tooth and nail to nab him. Believe me, it’ll work.

The Three Legged Trickster

Published on January 12, 2011 in Latest. 6 Comments

Originally appeared in the Mirror on Jan 6

Tendulkar and Kallis are not the most sought after guys at the Newlands anymore. Nor is Steyn or Bhajji. Even Sreesanth isn’t the most wanted. The guy whose everyone wants a piece of is part brown, part white, with some random black spots, and answers to the name Xolile. He is a nine year dog with unknown parentage or breed, is owned by a 96 year old Zulu man, and is supposed to bring good luck to whoever he takes fancy to. Legend has it that a few years ago he licked Kamran Akmal’s face and even the man with the punched face got lucky that night. On the morning of the third day, Xolile decided to lift his hind leg and relieve himself on Paul Harris’ kit bag which had been carelessly left unattended near the nets. And guess what, Harris got Gambhir’s wicket with a ball that predictably didn’t turn, got his hands on a ball that predictably slipped through to run Laxman out, and left the field with more wickets than Tsotsobe. Last seen, Harris was rushing towards the Grandwest Casino and Tsotsobe was following Xolile around with his kit bag and a bottle of female dog’s body fluids to be used as bait.

On witnessing Xolile’s feat, the Indian team too decided to utilise the services of the four-legged creature with the three-legged magic trick. The only problem is that not one of the Indians could pronounce his name. Phonetically, Xolile isn’t ‘Zoleeley’ as you may have been reading so far. The ‘X’ in Xolile is to make a popping sound, similar to the sound of popping a soda bottle, using your tongue and the top of the inside of your mouth, quickly followed by ‘Olile. While it’s not that difficult to do the soda pop sound and say ‘Olile after that, the one second gap between the two when the Indians say it makes the mongrel not recognise his name. 87% of the people I told this story to tried to pronounce Xolile in the ‘soda pop-olile’ style within the first 20 seconds. I suspect you are one of them and by now know that it’s not that easy to say it seamlessly and effortlessly. Later in the evening, the Indian team was divided into three groups, one each with Kirsten, Upton and Simmons, practicing Xolile at the dinner table. Except Viru, who spent that time trying to make sense of even one word of what Krishnachari Srikanth said in an interview to SABC. Finally, the saint from Najafgarh attained enlightenment and, before retiring for the night, went to Gautam Gambhir and said, “Yaar, uss kutte ka naam bolna isse zyaada asaan hai” (It’s easier to pronounce the dog’s name).

If you’re searching for answers as to why Sreesanth’s growing his hair, beard and moustache, you’re reading the right column. He’s told his closest friend on this tour, Wridhiman Saha, that he’s trying to become Bhajji. And, given how he’s being treated by the crowds here in South Africa, it seems he has partly succeeded in his mission. Remember Bhajji in Australia in 2007-08? Well, Sreesanth’s popularity with the crowds here has scaled even higher. The extreme Cape Town heat, unending supplies of beer, and Sreesanth within earshot is a combination that results in screams and shouts from the crowd in which Sreesanth is described as every hole on the human body and is accused of having sexual relations with his entire family. And, while Greg Chappell had claimed to have been airing his injured middle finger and Bhajji pretended to have been picking his nose, Sree made no bones of what his finger was meant for. Thankfully, Dhoni has showed his human side and, up until lunch on Day 4 as I write this, Sree hasn’t crossed the inner circle for anything other than going to the top of his run up.

There’s a heat wave on in Cape Town. Yesterday was 34 degrees and today is 36. For some reason, the 34 here is like 44 in India. The heat got to me yesterday. It started with black spots in front of my eyes and quickly turned into a hallucinatory dream in which Newlands became the Colosseum, and Sachin became the gladiator Maximus fighting the Romans single-handedly. When I finally came to my senses, I realised that not much had changed in the last 20 years. Even today, Sachin scores almost 50% of our runs. It’s a frightening thought but fact is that life after Sachin may not be worth living.

Dec 31: Ozzie Ozzie Ozzie…Sree Sree Sree

Published on January 1, 2011 in Latest. 4 Comments

Originally appeared in the Mirror (Mumbai and Bangalore)

There’s good news for Indian cricket. Sreesanth’s becoming Australian. First, the headband ala Dennis Lillee. Then the swing, pace and bounce ala Jason Gillespie. And now, the sledging ala Glen McGrath. Remember McGrath reminding Dada about Nagma just before snapping his wicket? Well, Sree did a McGrath on Smith on Day 3 of the Durban test. To start with, Sree was all poetic about the lefthander’s ex girlfriend Minki and Smithey’s little pinki. But once the Mallu Maniac wrapped Smith on his fingers, he went over and asked if this was one of his ‘special needs’ that his girlfriend, a special needs school teacher in Cape Town, took care of for him? Sure it was personal, as Harris pointed out later in the press conference. But then, as long as it gets his wicket, who gives a damn .

There’s more. Later in the evening, Sreesanth, Vijay and a couple of local Indians were out for dinner at a pub where Harris and a few South Africans landed up. Not too many words were exchanged. But everytime Harris so much as glanced at them, the Indian group would burst out in guffaws and loud laughter. Just enough to rub it in but not enough to go crying to the media about. Well, I don’t know about you, I am beginning to like the new look Sreesanth, and that’s despite the headband. Let’s just hope it stays that way.

The police in Cape Town has received a special request from the South African team. A squad of traffic policemen will be available on the ground at all times to conduct random breath analyser tests on the umpires after the South Africans realised that umpire Davis was drunk on most days of the Durban test. They believe that Boucher and De Villiers’ wickets were influenced by alcohol. The police commissioner at Cape Town has assured the team that, if found guilty, the umpires will be charged under regular DUI rules, in this case interpreted as Decision Under Influence.

The Durban debacle has resulted in some serious soul searching in the South African camp. And they finally have clarity on what really caused the defeat. In a nutshell, everything other than their performance. The South Africans believe the lack of a UDRS in this series is the cause and the guilty party is none other than Cricket South Africa for bowing down to the BCCI… again. Smith, Boucher, Kallis and AB were huddled together till late night drafting a letter to Cricket South Africa chief Majola. The contents of the draft are not known, but ‘pussyfooting’, ‘gutless’, and ‘hypocritical’ are some of the words that were used liberally. When it came to signing, Boucher backed out saying that his own position in the side wasn’t safe, AB talked about his bright future and Kallis reminded Smith that he was still paying EMIs for his hair transplant. But Smith is no pussy. He signed it himself and sent it across. Last reported by unconfirmed sources, the CSA chief was replying with his version of why they lost the test and, ironically, using pretty much the same words that Smith had.

Speaking of UDRS, some of the South African commentators have lost their voices for the length of time they’ve spent discussing the issue, on and off air. I, for one, am a supporter of UDRS and would love to see it being used. But, to mention it every time a decision goes against them is kind of irritating and tiring. But, you can’t expect any thing better from commentators these days. In the Ashes test, when Phil Hughes was run out, commentator Healy blurted out ‘there goes the chance of a win’. To have expected Australia to win the test is absurd enough. But to think that Hughes is going to win it for them is unpardonable. May be Channel 9 should do what Cricket Australia did almost 10 years ago. Replace Healy with Gilchrist.

Dec 30: Durban Poison

Published on January 1, 2011 in Latest. 0 Comments

Originally appeared in the Mirror (Mumbai and Bangalore)

There isn’t a phrase I hate more than ‘I told you so’. Except, when I myself say it. Haha. So, I told you so. One day before the second test match, I had predicted in this column that India would win this test. And surprise, surprise. India did win the test played on the bounciest and seamiest wicket in South Africa with a generous tinge of green, and that too after batting first in heavy overcast conditions.

Was it just a wild guess? Or a case of misplaced patriotism? Neither of the two. It was just that I had full faith in that big, burly left hander and knew he had done enough even before the test began for India to win it. No! Not Zaheer Khan, silly. The real man of the match is Graeme Smith. So arrogant and full of himself he was after the Centurion test that he did what few have managed to do in the past. He woke Bhajji up from his slumber, drilled some sense of purpose into Sreesanth’s bowling, and made the Indian batsmen realise that the ‘flat track bullies’ tag doesn’t sit pretty on their trophy shelves. Zak was anyways coming back and had a point to prove. And Lax, of course, has always thought that the second inning is the real one. Even though the man of the match adjudicators didn’t agree with my choice, I’ve let Smithey know that, even though his team lost, in my eyes he is the real winner. Last I saw him, he was busy putting his man of the match award where it belongs – stuffing his Size 11 foot in his mouth.

With all the talk about grass on the Durban wicket, I discovered Durban’s fascination with grass in very fortuitous circumstances. One evening, walking along the seafront while dreaming about watching Viru bat from the other end, I was accosted by a thin as reed short black man wearing a Barcelona football team t-shirt. “Brother, wanna score a bankie,” he said as he walked along with me. Now, I am always up for an adventure and robbing a bank in a foreign country has been a childhood dream. But, the size of my fellow robber wasn’t very comforting. I was about to ask him if he planned to recruit some more tourists to form his dream team and, importantly, if we will all wear Barca t-shirts. “Messi, Villa, and Puyol rob Standard Bank ATM,” the headline spoke for itself. But, just then, from his hidden pocket, came out a neat plastic packet in which banks issue coins. My future co-robber opened the top of the pack to show me the stash – plants with, unlike the wicket at Kingsmead, a slight red tinge on the leaves. That’s when it dawned on me that this was my first sighting of the world famous Durban Poison – probably the strongest weed one has ever heard of, smoked, eaten, or whatever. Connoisseurs say you can’t go wrong with that dagga. He offered me to smell it and it had an aniseed smell similar to licorice. Smokers say that it has an earthy, pleasant taste, produces a delayed but clear buzz, and gives an energetic trip. But, of course, I wouldn’t know much about it myself.

Say hello to the White Sreesanth

Published on January 1, 2011 in Latest. 4 Comments

Originally appeared in the Mirror (Mumbai and Bangalore)

OK. So now I know what it feels like to be Suresh Raina, out in the middle on the first session of the first test in an overcast Centurion with Dale Steyn at the top of his runup. It’s scary. Taxis had drilled holes the size of Sreesanth’s nose in my pocket so I decided to rent a car from Avis. Everything was perfect except that they didn’t have a GPS. How important can that be, I thought. Well, it turns out, very! I had to go to Auckland Park and the front desk dude, probably next in line for the Nobel Prize, sent me to Oakland Park. 20 minutes later, I am driving around downtown, a place I definitely didn’t want to be. With cars whizzing past and small groups of ‘dangerous looking’ guys hanging around at every corner, I could find neither the place nor the courage to stop. So, I kept on, not knowing if the road was taking me outside the city or further into the black hole? “Police is still trying to identify the man whose severed hand with all fingers intact was recovered from…,” the news on radio informed. My chances of seeing the end of the Durban test seemed almost as high as Ponting getting banned for a test even if he spat on an umpire. A few meters ahead, a black man in a bright yellow jacket waved me towards the edge of the road. I stopped right next to him. He dipped his hand into his pocket and out came a parking ticket. On knowing my situation, with wild gesticulations, little jumps, and a spit spray, he sent me the right way. ‘If there’s no traffic, don’t stop at the first 4 robots (traffic signals in South Africa),’ he advised. Closer to Auckland Park, I was lost again, this time on De Korte road, which didn’t look like a comfortable place to be. I saw a cemetery and turned inside. At least closer to my eventual home, I thought. Ten minutes later I spotted the Undertaker who probably saw a look of complete helplessness on my face and drove to Auckland Park with me following him. May everyone in that cemetery rest in peace.

Indian bowlers are as pissed as the Churchgate station toilet at Graeme Smith’s comments about India not having the attack to take 20 South African wickets. Bhajji, Sree, Zaheer and Ishant were on Smithey’s case from the moment he stepped on the ground at the start of their second inning. “This Ishant not just looks like one but also speaks like a Giraffe,” Smith told Boucher after he returned to the pavilion. When Bouch asked what Ishant was saying, Smithey just shrugged his shoulder and said, “F**k knows why he wanted me to wear pant-coat on this hot day”.

“It’s not a compliment, dude,” somebody needs to tell Sreesanth after how happy he seemed when he heard about Siddle being called the Sreesanth of Australia. “The Don had a black Bradman. And now, I have a White Sreesanth,” he screamed in the middle of the dressing room just before Laxman and Pujara were going out to bat. Looks like Chetu couldn’t quite recover from the shock in time and got out soon after. Let’s see how much Appam Siddle packs in his beefy body. Primate-like gestures after taking a wicket…check. Sore loser…check. Continuing to argue with umpires to point of absurdity…check. Siddle sure has potential. A few dance classes and a bottle of glycerine, and Australia can have a replica of our very own clowning jewel.

South Africa fuss over Kallis

Published on January 1, 2011 in Latest. 1 Comment

Originally appeared in the Mirror (Mumbai and Bangalore)

Unconfirmed sources within the South African camp have confirmed that the team management is getting worried about Kallis’ state of mind. The concern is over two unKallis-like mistakes by the all-rounder on Day 2 of the Durban test, at least one of which is proving to be very costly for the team. First, he dropped Bhajji at slip and later failed to drop his bat inside the crease in time to be run out at the bowler’s end. If reports are to be believed, soon after Kallis returned to the pavilion, coach Van Zyl whisked him away to an undisclosed location for a thorough CAT Scan. Team management suspects the car accident Kallis was involved recently may have led to an internal injury slowing down his reflexes.

Barely a week ago, Kallis was on top of the world. He had just returned with a new lease of hair and had promptly scored a double century. Too often in the past, the thought of having to take his helmet off to celebrate his double century would distract him enough to lose his wicket in the 190s. But, all that was now history. In Centurion, Kallis went from 190 to 201 with the confidence of a young lion in heat. As he raised his bat to his teammates, little did Kallis know that his new found booster would lead to such complications in the near future. Through public statements we know that Kallis was neither drunk nor speeding when he ran his Audi R8 through a gate at Wynberg at 2.30 am on December 21. Of course, hardly anyone is drunk or speeding at that hour. Kallis’ agent David Rundle is believed to be privy to what really caused the accident.

Apparently, Kallis was driving down the M10 at 120 kmph after a night of celebration, a satisfied smile on his face, the Man of the Match cheque in the bank and the trophy perched on his shelf, when suddenly something on the rear view mirror caught his attention. Not everything seemed in order. With the adroitness of a top order batsman, he shifted his gears down, moved to the left, and took a long, hard look at what the problem was. The reflection on the mirror revealed that his hair plug was clumsily out of place. In a moment of rare loss of concentration, Kallis took both his hands off the wheel and started to fix it. The next thing he remembers is searching for his hair plug with his hands while trying to extricate his face out of the airbag. The CAT Scan results are expected late night Durban time.

Suresh Raina’s future as India’s future captain is in trouble. Sreesanth has secretly told Dhoni that his opening spell comprising no balls, half trackers and boundaries was a result of a pep talk he received from Raina. The earnest youngster is believed to have evoked memories of the T20 World Cup semi finals and the IPL game against Chennai, both in South Africa, to fire up Sreesanth. The Kerala hunk aimed for a 4-0-30-0 bowling spell, got it, and was shocked when severely reprimanded by his captain. Kirsten was quick to correct the mistake and Sreesanth was immediately put under Bhajji’s charge. Both student and master are believed to have disappeared in the blind spot on the ground for a few minutes. What transpired behind is yet unknown, but the result was a peach of a delivery that got AB De Villiers.

With the prospect of an Australia defeat and an India win looming large over the Southern hemisphere, this could turn out to be my best Christmas since the year I found a case of crayons under my pillow on December 25. I just hope I can finally get back at my sister and tell her that she was wrong… Santa does exist.

Dec 27 – Why Steyn Hates Indian Batsmen

Published on January 1, 2011 in Latest. 0 Comments

Originally appeared in Mirror (Mumbai and Bangalore)

It was the night of before the Durban test and the writing was already on the wall. The 9 o’clock news on the local TV station changed the forecast from rains to light intermittent drizzles sending panic through the two floors of the 5 star hotel occupied by the Indian team. Jaydev Unadkat, for his goofy look screaming for mercy, was the natural choice as bad news bearer and he went from room to room communicating what he had just heard on TV. Suddenly, change of plans was warranted. Kirsten Kaku, man of action that he is, headed straight for Dhoni’s suite. They locked themselves in the room to work on what would decide India’s fate in this series. For the next two hours, Kaku was tossing the coin and Dhoni was calling it. By the end of the session, after 823 coin tosses and a regression analysis of the results displayed on the Kaku’s laptop, Dhoni knew the exact torque needed for the coin to fall with heads up. The coach, though, now needed to seek Gambhir out to exchange notes on hand injuries. The only guy who remained unfazed by this news and continued watching Band Bajaa Baraat on the local cable channel was Sehwag because, well, not even a nuclear holocaust can drill a fear of god in this man. Why did Dhoni still lose the toss then, one would ask. Well, they failed to take wind and atmospheric pressure into account. What a rookie mistake in today’s day and age.
India continues to underperform in South Africa. And it’s not because of the bounce or seaming conditions. The reason has to be more deeprooted than that. Vusi, my cab driver, told me that Indians comprise almost 30% of the South African population, and that they are too wealthy, too loud and too in-your-face for anyone’s liking. He said there’s too much talk of them having become engendered in South Africa while he truly wished they were endangered. It’s possible that when the likes of Steyn and Morkel see Indian batsmen in South Africa, similar feelings get evoked and they go at the batsmen with more venom than normal.
A search for truth led me to Montecasino last night. A huge complex built in Medieval Europe style, Montecasino has everything – restaurants, shopping arcades, video game parlours, bars, clubs and, of course, casinos. And, it seemed like Johannesburg’s entire Indian community had landed up there. Ninety percent of them were locals, but one could spot several Indian tourists as well. Out of shape men out of synch with latest fashion taking pictures of their wives was a total giveaway. Most gamblers in the casino were Indians. In the club, a couple of pot bellied local Indians were shamelessly leching at the women and hitting on them. When I left, I saw them sipping their drinks by themselves on the couch. And there was Detective Naidu with his family – wife and two attractive teenaged daughters – who proudly told me that Hilbrow was his territory. By the way, he did nothing to the two guys who were leching at his daughters as well. Through the evening, for some godforsaken reason, the detective kept calling me Bilal which partly explains why Hilbrow is the most dangerous area in Jo’burg. My dispstick study tells me that there could be some weight in the theory I proposed earlier. An experiment with face paint to camouflage Gambhir’sidentity in the next test could prove or disprove it.

Dec 26 – Gibbs and Viru: Two of a Kind

Published on January 1, 2011 in Latest. 0 Comments

In South Africa, read what the South Africans write. So, Herschelle Gibbs’ self proclaimed no holds barred autobiography ‘To The Point’ is what I picked up yesterday. And boy, is it no holds barred or what? There are some people whom you start respecting only too late and, for me, Gibbs is one such. In a nutshell, this guy has scrotum made of steel. In the book, he’s poured his heart out and the honesty reflects even in the writing style.

While reading, you almost get a feeling that he’s sitting in front of you and narrating his life. And he’s funny too. If cricket broadcasters have any foresight, they should quickly grab him for commentary. He’ll be far better than the insipid & cliched ‘tracer bullet’ and ‘what the doctor ordered’ stuff served to us 365 days of the year. Although, Gibbs for IPL commentary could still be risky as I don’t see him lauding the MRF blip or Karbonn Kamaal catches unless he has to make fun of them and that, I am sure, won’t go down well with the sponsors, which is more important than anything else in IPL.

While reading the book, I started to think who amongst the Indian cricketers could write something with such honesty and transparency. There are many who have had colourful lives on and off the field, and would have lots of interesting stories to tell. But, there’s absolutely noone who would feel secure enough to upset the apple cart and risk their own future, even after retiring from the game. Noone except Virender Sehwag, that is. He is the one guy who can do a Gibbs by just being himself. I, for one, would give anything for the opportunity to write Viru’s autobiography for him. From the match fixing days to playing under Ganguly, the dark Chappell era to making a comeback into the team, Viru will have an interesting view on all of them. But if there’s one thing that I am truly interested in, it is to know how he managed to find his way through the maze of our system and into the Indian team.

For a long time, Sehwag had reinforced my belief in the system. Here was a guy who wasn’t from any powerhouse cricket academy, had no contacts to leverage, and without the copybook style that our selectors seem to prefer. He is just a freak of nature and the fact that he made it to the team, not once but twice, before establishing himself told me that not all was wrong with the system. Until, one little anecdote I heard recently from an unreliable source shook me out of my fantasy. My new flatmate claims to have met one guy from Najagfgarh who told him how the whole village had contributed money to pay a selector to get Viru into the side. He wasn’t sure whether this was to get him into the side in 1999 or in 2001, or whether this was to get him into the national side or the Ranji team. But somehow, this story seems more in line with John Wright’s description of selection meetings in his book Indian Summers.

It’s Christmas Day and everyone’s on holiday in South Africa. Restaurants, pubs, shopping malls, cinema halls, everything’s shut. And, I suspect, so are Messers Kallis, Amla, Steyn and Morkel. There’s absolutely nothing to do here except go to the nearby dam and watch the ducks. They don’t much fancy Santa, it seems. This is one more example of the BCCI’s lack of planning. If only they had scheduled the test to begin today, there would have been no Morkel or Steyn to face up to. And, playing against the ducks from the dam, even Raina could have scored some runs in Durban. In moments like this one really misses the scheming Lalit Modi.