August 4, 2002

The underlying strengths in the cricket teams of India and Pakistan are formidable. All they need are calmer nerves and a reining-in, not of youthful arrogance, but of a head-in-the-clouds approach

INDIA’S victory at Lord’s, in July this year, may have surprised many but to be brutally honest, it was an inevitability waiting to happen. I will not put it down to that gut feeling or because there was something in the air that morning; it is simply a result of the probability factor transfused with a self-belief that youth always brings into a side.

If you ever go into the history of Pakistani and Indian cricket, you will see that behind most dramatic victories, there has been a young man or two who looked at the opposition and wondered why no one has taken them on before. The infusion of players in their late teens and early twenties will always bring dividends to the subcontinent. It is a result of the desire to excel in the game for two reasons: first, it is now or never and competition is tough considering the population and the number of good players coming up. And second, the peers of our current youth are players like Imran, Miandad, Kapil and Amarnath who have excelled and won against established institutions.

You only have to look back at the past decade to see how Ganguly and Dravid emerged in the 1996 series against England, after Tendulkar had led the charges in the early 1990s at the tender age of 17-plus. I still remember how Inzamam walked into his first One-Day international against West Indies, with his page boy lot of hair waving in the wind, against the might of the still-formidable West Indian bowling lineup and flayed the attack to all parts of the ground. His innings in the semi-final and final of the 1992 World Cup were truly match winners and borne out of no presupposed fears of the Western world.

Likewise for Wasim Akram, who took his cue from Imran and Miandad and took on the might of the self-acclaimed cricket superpowers of that time on their own soil. Indeed, the World Cup victory, though sensibly managed in the end by serious thinkers like Imran and Miandad, was won on the enthusiasm and momentum of youthful ambitions, and the inert confidence to take on the world and win.

Two leaders who can be considered architects of this resurgence in subcontinental fortunes are Waqar and Ganguly. Both of them were inducted into the captaincy at a time when morale was low and, despite enormous talent available, nothing was being harnessed except hopelessness when it came to tough opposition on foreign soil. Both teams were previously captained by living legends, Wasim Akram and Sachin Tendulkar. The match-fixing investigations and consequent insinuations sidetracked the first, the other was clearly too soft a person to mould disparate groups from different parts of a huge country into a fighting force. Both sides needed somebody like Ian Chappell, who would take on the opposition as well as those half-baked criticisms and fickle-mindedness from management at home. In previous years, Imran had done the job well for Pakistan and so had Sunil Gavaskar. Both had a philosophy that said: “You’ve made me captain. That’s the end of your job and the beginning of mine.”

But since their departure, players had once again begun to be subservient to the board. Ironically, it was at a time when they were being driven harder by the ICC and their own governing bodies to play more and more grinding, at times nonsensical, cricketing events.

Both Ganguly and Waqar have found a good balance between leading their respective sides and selecting players they prefer, as well as keeping the old boys at bay in the boardrooms. Both these guys are hardened professionals who are not afraid of being criticised. They have a vision and remain confident that they will achieve it. History shows that luck is always with people of such attitude. They get those lucky breaks, but, in effect, they make it work for them. They appear to have the right youngster around when they need one, but, in reality, they have often fought for his inclusion long after the selectors had cemented their doubts.

Their recent triumphs in Australia and England are proof of that. I was with the Pakistan side on this short tour of Australia. I met Waqar several times, especially in the pre-match and post-match press conferences. I have seen many captains’ body language after being routed, as Pakistan were in the first game at the Colonial. But Waqar’s seemed to suggest he was on another planet when Pakistan collapsed for 160-odd and Australia romped home with plenty of wickets and overs to spare. A mug of coffee in hand, he told the press simply that tomorrow would be another day, that Pakistan were notoriously slow starters in Australia, and yes, Saeed Anwar was fully fit but they hadn’t played him. No apologies, no regrets, no fear of criticism. Matches are won, matches are lost.

There was so much of Imran I saw in him that evening, though Imran would have said more or less the same with a touch of latent anger at being asked questions which were nobody’s concern but his. Waqar was cool, prepared for the questions and answering them with the attitude of a person who understands why these questions are coming at him. A week later, Pakistan had pulverised the same batting twice in two games. Waqar’s spearhead had been Shoaib Akhtar, the lad with cyber-speed and the plucky Younis Khan and Imran Nazir, one of whom would have had to sit it out for Saeed Anwar in the first match. Waqar did neither, though he had to eventually put Shoaib Malik on the bench. Ponting dumped Bret Lee after one game and also recalled Matthew Hayden for the young and talented Jimmy Maher in Brisbane.

Once again, Waqar had banked on youth’s fury and won the initiative. Ponting had clearly sided in favour of conservatism when it came to Lee and felt he was too expensive. The underlying analysis was that he was too impulsive with his pace and sacrificed runs in the process. Waqar used his racehorse the other way round; he let him loose with his pace. Shoaib responded in kind by bowling no faster than 153 km/h in Brisbane, and yet devastating the cream of Australia’s batting lineup. The aggressor had won again.

Later, I was to learn from someone close to the team that Waqar had never given up victory in the series even after the morale shattering first defeat. His team talks for the next two days centred on the fact that the Pakistani side was good enough to beat the Aussies at home. His body language was that the halo effect around well-rounded sides like Australia can be broken with the most obvious of weapons: self-belief.

At the other end of the divide, a proud angry young man from Calcutta was fuming at the fact that all over the newspapers the Indian cricket team were being called tigers at home and lambs abroad. Someone even pointed out that India had lost in the last nine finals they had reached. The point was that they lacked the drive to win when it mattered most; that there was not enough self-belief to go all the way. Ganguly knew that there was no truth in the matter that they cannot win in a final. A game is a game, and the only difference between an early round match and a final is that there is no second chance. Yes, that gets on the nerve of the guys, but then he had the unharnessed drive of youth, especially in the shape of Yuvraj Singh, the Punjabi lad with the positive attitude and a point to prove. Likewise for Kaif, the Muslim who must have been under pressure to perform for obvious reasons.

Once again, the attitude was summed up by one of the first young men to rebel against the supposed dominance of the white powers. This was Ravi Shastri who, when confronted with the statistics of the nine final games, pointed out that there were enough youngsters in the side who had no part to play in all those finals and probably did not even recall them. He especially pointed out Yuvraj and Kaif, alongside Sehwag. By the end of the day, he and his likes had been vindicated. With or without the demise of Tendulkar, India of a few years ago and beyond would have settled for a respectable defeat at 144-5, chasing 325 on a foreign soil.

India, perhaps more than Pakistan, are at a stage where they are mentally strong enough to take on the best in the world. In Sehwag, Mongia, Yuvraj and Kaif, they have more youth in offensive positions than Pakistan. The difference is the presence of the established trio of Sachin, Ganguly and Dravid to guide them, and their fitter, more consistent body language.

In the Pakistan side, the experience comes from Saeed Anwar, who is himself competing with boys like Imran Nazir, Taufiq Umer and Shahid Afridi for a place. Then there is Inzamam, who exudes an unfortunate signal of a man burdened despite his best efforts for the team. On top of that, he is never fully fit and labours often through his innings. Youhana is a boy thrust into a veteran’s role too early in his career, though he has borne the mantle well. It can be said that what India enjoys in batting, Pakistan packs in bowling. That is where Waqar is on solid ground, and his Tendulkar and Dravid are Wasim and Saqlain, with Shoaib and Sami being the equivalent of Yuvraj and Sehwag.

Despite this, I feel India is modernizing and shaping an all-round side for the World Cup quicker than Pakistan. Man-to-man, I feel they are superior by far in batting, while Pakistan possess possibly the finest all-round attack in the world, even without Saqlain. And once he gets into his bowling act, a well-thought out field placing and bowling changes can wreck havoc in the best batting side in the world.

As such I feel that today, whatever the rankings may say, the underlying strengths in India and Pakistan are formidable. They just need to be harnessed and, ironically, this is the most crucial phase for both teams. They are on a high, both completing unimaginable victories overseas. This is a time that youthful senses take into the air and feel the world is at their feet. Traditionally, this is where both countries have fallen many a times, most poignantly in the World Cups of 1987 and 1996. In the 1999 World Cup, I felt India had the best batting lineup, but they fell at the last hurdle even as they overcame England. For Pakistan, it was worse as it appeared they were still in celebratory mood after their semi-final victory as the openers walked into the middle at Lord’s.

Both teams have the backing of youth and the self-belief and optimism that comes with it. The bosom-out body language that says ‘Bring out your best, we’re tough enough’. Now, all they need are calmer nerves and a reining-in, not of youthful arrogance but of a head-in-the-clouds approach and an earlier wake-up call from the field of dreams. The real world is waiting for them out there — professional, incisive, quietly taking aim at the roots of these (now mentally) emerging cricketing powers.

History has often proven that the more disciplined societies and armies have clawed their way to victory against the numbers. The real tutorials at the Gaddafi Stadium and in Calcutta should be starting on these lines. And, the earlier, the better.

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