The end, when it finally came, was embarrassing. India folded with a whimper to go down 3-0 at Edgbaston, crashing to one of their worst Test defeats.
As far as innings losses go, India have actually suffered two worse (against West Indies in 1958 and against England in 1974), but neither of those Indian teams had claimed greatness. The Indian outfit of 2011 was different. They were the top-ranked Test side, comprised some of the game’s best players, had a brilliant leader, were freshly-crowned world champions in ODI cricket, and had not lost a Test series in three years.
By the time this column appears, the fourth and final Test of the series, being played at the Oval in London, will be three days old. India are routed and demoralised and it is difficult to see them putting up much of a fight. The only ray of hope—if it can indeed be so described—is the possibility of Sachin Tendulkar’s hundredth international hundred. He is a genius at amassing runs when it doesn’t matter, and could well attain his coveted milestone at the Oval. That will salvage some Indian pride but in the big picture it will be of little consequence. The damage to India’s cricketing psyche has already been done.
Analysts are finding it hard to explain India’s woeful abdication. The typical list centres on the following: too many injuries, too little preparation, too much cricket (of the wrong kind), too old a batting line-up, too shallow bowling reserves, and too weak a mindset. Undoubtedly, each of these has contributed to India’s downfall in England, and their combined effect has been devastating.
In fact, India did ascend to the top spot in Test cricket but they never really proved themselves. They never beat Australia in Australia, failed to beat South Africa either at home or away, and Pakistan of course they did not even face. England, in contrast, had slain the Australian dragon in its own den. Their last Test series was a five-match rubber in Australia, which they won emphatically 3-1, each of their victories being by an innings margin.
There is also the issue of change in coaching personnel, which for some reason has not received much attention. India’s campaign for cricket supremacy had been plotted by South Africa’s Gary Kirsten, who chose to finally quit the job after guiding India to the World Cup title. His place was filled by Zimbabwean Duncan Fletcher, an able and successful coach but one whose taciturn approach is 180 degrees opposite that of Kirsten’s. Fletcher’s appointment came too late to allow any meaningful adjustment with the players and the management set-up in time for the England series.
On the other hand, England have enjoyed the uninterrupted services of Andy Flower, who has been head coach since 2009, after having served as assistant England coach for two years prior. Flower, who also happens to be Zimbabwean, believes in an unforgiving approach founded on ruthless development of physical and mental stamina, and constantly evolving strategic thinking. English observers are widely crediting him with the analytical brains and guiding influence behind England’s success.
The distinct responses to India’s capitulation and England’s coronation also tell a story. Indian media, to put it mildly, are in shock. Their commentators are irritable and their newspapers are disoriented. For several years Indian cricket has indulged an exaggerated narrative about itself, beating its chest in the hope that making loud noises in the international media will drive performance on the field. That did work—but obviously only up to a point. The great unwanted consequence of this attitude was that it kept papering over the cracks. When India’s cricketing fibre was truly tested, it stood horribly exposed.
England’s style has been rather quiet and self-assured. They have gone about their business with professionalism and poise. Where Indians has displayed an enormous capacity for egoistic self-deception, the Brits showed an impressive ability for honest self-examination. They are not afraid to criticise themselves, and they don’t put any false spin on their abilities. Now that they are number one in Test cricket, instead of beating their chest, they are talking about the stern challenges that lie ahead. Where India had felt like pretenders to the throne, England seem to be the real deal.
How India handles this disaster will reveal a great deal about how far they have come—not just as a cricketing nation but indeed as a society and country. Will India’s cricket administrators give in to the perennial sub-continental temptation of a cosmetic, face-saving enquiry and a knee-jerk outburst that results in ‘scapegoating’ of the captain and the destruction of many careers? Or will they take a long and forthright look at addressing their problems with honesty and sincerity? Will India’s embittered public bray for their cricketers’ blood, or will it take this defeat in stride and focus on the long-term view?
For too long India’s cricket establishment, and by extension it’s cricket-mad millions, have pursued cricket as a proxy for national self-esteem and as an international zero-sum game. In the ICC, they bully their way on the weight of their economic might. In the Asian region, they stopped playing at Sharjah after they lost a few close ones. In the immediate neighbourhood, they created petty obstructions to block Sri Lanka from hosting its own Twenty20 premier league. And we all know how difficult they have been with Pakistan.
Indeed, India has been like that rich kid who has the biggest house on the street. He is the only one in possession of a bat, ball and a set of stumps, and he will remorselessly bend the rules and throw his weight around to dictate the state of play and manipulate the behaviour of the other, less fortunate kids. India’s reaction to its humiliation in England will tell us if it has truly matured, or if it is still trapped in its old mindset.
Dear visitor, the comments section is undergoing an overhaul and will return soon.