There were fleeting displays of brilliance in the first two tests from Sachin Tendulkar – who is still in search of the vaunted 100^th international ton – but he has consistently fallen short of imposing his will. Rahul Dravid, magnificent in England when no one around him rose above mediocrity, has looked grotesque every time he’s batted in the series. That he’s been bowled, often through the gate, in each of the tests doesn’t help either. But with Dravid it has never been only about technical perfection – some of his greatest innings have, in fact, lacked textbook purity. It has been his ability to come on top through a mighty struggle against all adversities, whether it is playing on the wickedest of wickets or against the fiercest of opposition that has been his most outstanding quality. In Australia, not only has his batting looked ugly, but he’s also seemed incapable of rising above some of these adversities. V.V.S. Laxman, one of cricket’s most artful match-winners, has scarcely made runs away from home in the last two years, and his celebrated hand-eye coordination is certainly not what it once was. Virender Sehwag and Gautam Gambhir have likewise been less than ordinary lately – yes, India have struggled for many years to find a consistently good opening partnership, but the pair has been anything but consistently good in recent times.  Away from home in the last three years, Sehwag averages a meager 32.55, while since the beginning of 2010, Gambhir has recorded only a single century, averaging just 32.05. Numbers can of course be misleading, but these are certainly not figures that help teams win test matches.

The time for mere introspection has passed. The time to enforce a seamless transition has also passed. Where youngsters could have once been eased into the eleven, they now need to be thrust into it. Laxman’s place in the pantheon of greats may be assured, but it has been reported that he may not even make the team for the fourth test at Adelaide. It shouldn’t have come to this; he has performed a terrific service to Indian cricket, and in the ideal circumstances he would deserve a proper farewell. But there is no place for sentiment in sport, certainly not when you are down 0-3 in a four match series. It continues to baffle the mind that Rohit Sharma is yet to make his test match debut – had the transition been more structured, he’d have been playing a pivotal role in this series. But regardless, he must be given his chance in the fourth test in place of Laxman, whether or not Laxman chooses to retire. Ajinkya Rahane, Sharma’s teammate at Mumbai, who has made oodles of runs in domestic cricket, must also be accorded a place in the team. This, though, would entail a tougher decision of dropping one of Sehwag, Gambhir or Dravid – something, which I doubt, the authorities would be prepared to take responsibility for.

The root of India’s problems, though, goes far deeper than issues of selection, and is entrenched in the shortsighted, supercilious attitude of the B.C.C.I., exemplified by its president, N. Srinivasan’s reported remarks after the defeat at Perth: “Next New Zealand is coming to India and it will be followed by England and Australia. We will beat these three teams on our own soil. They cannot beat us here and we will feel very happy.” That the president of India’s cricket board is willing to virtually forego its games away from home shows the incredibly myopic vision of the game’s governing authority in India.

This is a real pity for India is not lacking in talent, certainly not as far as the batting – which has been in shambles in Australia – is concerned. Ajinkya Rahane, Rohit Sharma, Abhinav Mukund, Subramaniam Badrinath and Cheteshwar Pujara have all performed with aplomb in domestic cricket, and certainly deserve a sustained chance at the highest level. Dravid’s performance in 2011 – in which he scored five test match centuries – notwithstanding his display in Australia, perhaps, indicates that he still has runs left in him. But if he is to be retained, he must be pulled down the order, and Virat Kohli – who showed that he has the temperament for test cricket with his displays at the WACA – must be allowed a continued run at one-down. India also needs to think of Rahane and Mukund as viable successors to Sehwag and Gambhir, who cannot be carried on for too much longer solely on the basis of their reputations. Sachin Tendulkar in whatever time he has spent batting in Australia still easily looks India’s best batsman, but nobody should be considered bigger than the team, not even Tendulkar. I am not suggesting that India should, at once, axe Tendulkar and Dravid, but if you’re going to suffer such mammoth defeats as India has in Australia, you might as well do so with youngsters in your team.

Just as worrying as the batting displays has been M.S. Dhoni’s captaincy. Dhoni has always had a laid-back, casual approach to the job – when it works he looks cool and brilliant, and when it doesn’t he looks unconcerned and uninspiring. But the demeanor apart, neither has he looked like a good leader of men nor has his tactics been up to scratch. That he’s batted like a hapless tailender hasn’t helped either. Virender Sehwag who is the vice captain for the current tour has never showed any interest in the job, and in any event his form with the bat scarcely helps further his case. Gambhir is, perhaps, the only other contender, but his batting form has been worrying too, and his long-term future in the side is by no means settled. This then leaves us with Virat Kohli – who for all his indiscipline – has, since his Under-21 days, been considered as a future captain. In recent times, transition to test match captaincy has generally occurred via the ODI path. There has indeed been nothing to complain about Dhoni’s performance as captain in the shorter format, but assuming India wants to prioritize test cricket – which it admittedly doesn’t, but nontheless – it may not be the worst of ideas to consider Kohli, at first, for the ODI vice-captaincy with a view to him taking on the job in the not-so-distant future.

In a series in which the batsmen have given the bowlers so little to play with, it may be unfair to heap much blame on them, but Ishant Sharma’s form, in particular, has been worrying. The verve and the talent that the displayed the last time he was in Australia has been completely non-existent. It is difficult to point a finger at the exact reasons for Ishant’s decline, but none of the consistency in line and length that he once displayed has been evident. Umesh Yadav, while terrific in phases, does not have the reliability of a James Pattinson, who is three years junior to him. That said, Umesh’s raw pace and aggression means that his bowling can certainly be worked upon. What India doesn’t want to see, though, is a regression on lines akin to what Ishant has gone through. Zaheer Khan still retains a lot of his magic, particularly when bowling with the old ball, but it’s doubtful he has too many years left in him. Sreesanth and R.P. Singh who have played important roles for India in away victories have fallen by the wayside, but it is encouraging to see that Irfan Pathan is beginning to make a comeback into the side. Managing the fast bowling group is far harder with the depth in India’s coffins not as rich as its batting talent. But the BCCI’s decision to pick a fast-bowling pool and identify bowlers who would form the bench strength has been one of the more encouraging ones in recent times.

For the average Indian fan, the displays in England and Australia have been far more disappointing than the consistent mediocrity of the early nineties, where the expectations on the team, at any rate, were lower. As daft as it sounds, India went into both these tours as genuine contenders, but perhaps, the team has needed these poundings to grasp the malaise that has slowly been building up. But all things considered, if these defeats do result in relatively wholesale changes, as they should, India are certainly in for an exciting, even if, potentially, painful phase. Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma are two of the finest young batting talents in the world and I am looking forward – as I am sure many others are – to see their fruition as test match batsmen. The darkest hour is just before the dawn.

Football

Best goals: At the end of the day, regardless of the extent of our connoisseurship, it’s the goals that we remember most, so I’ll start there.[2] Dejan Stankovic’s goal in Inter Milan’s Champions League quarterfinal first leg against Schalke was my favourite goal of the year. I have a thing for volleys and long-rangers, and Stankovic’s goal fits both of those categories. It was barely 20 seconds into the game when Esteban Cambiasso floated a ball behind the Schalke defense, which their goalkeeper Manuel Neuer came out bravely to sweep up, launching a header towards the halfway line. Stankovic, hanging about in the center circle, spontaneously volleyed the ball back, remarkably sending the ball over the out of position Neuer, and into the empty goal. It was an extraordinary goal, one that had the quality of bringing a neutral observer to his feet.

Staying with volleys, Robin van Persie’s recent pearler against Everton has to surely be up there with the best goals of the year. Just as Alex Song’s ball over the defense was dropping in front of him, van Persie conjured up a strike of astounding technical purity. He hit it so sweetly that I can still hear the unblemished sound of boot on ball.

It would be injudicious of me not to mention Wayne Rooney’s winner in the Manchester Derby in January here. Unlike Stankovic’s and van Persie’s efforts, I have watched this goal over and over again. The beauty of the strike apart, the goal had a sense of occasion to it, making it all the more special.

Berbarotica: Before it gets too late, I want to get my mention of Dimitar Berbatov away. In spite of being the top scorer in the 2010-11 season, Berbatov has found himself dropped from the Manchester United starting line-up – and often even from the squad – with Sir Alex Ferguson preferring to go with either Javier Hernandez or Danny Welbeck as Rooney’s strike partner. Against Fulham, earlier this month, though, Berbatov came on to score a sublime goal. It wasn’t against the toughest of opponents nor did it have a sense of occasion to it, considering it was the final goal in a 5-0 rout, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Berbatov let Antonio Valencia’s low cross slide past him, deceived a lunging Fulham defender, and then produced a cheeky backheel to find the back of the net. It was deft, languid, imperious and impudent all at once; it was typical Berbatov.

Silkiest skill: Had I seen this goal live, it may well have been my favourite of the year; it comes close nonetheless. Neymar has attracted several comparisons to Lionel Messi already, and this goal against Flamengo provides a microcosm of his unique talents. There were about 15 tricks that he performed in under 20 seconds – first there were a brace of ingenious turns on the left wing, then a one-two to get himself to the edge of the box, followed by an outrageous bit of skill that left the centre backs flummoxed and finally a finish to match the move.

Most elegant player: David Silva has been the most fun player to watch this year. He doesn’t slalom his way past opponents like Messi; he doesn’t have the pace and power that Cristiano Ronaldo possesses; nor does he dictate the tempo of a game in the manner of a Xavi or an Iniesta, but he is certainly the most elegant player going around. Silva doesn’t run past opponents, he glides away from them with a balletic grace. Everything he does on the pitch seems to have a rare beauty to it. And it certainly doesn’t hurt that he is left footed.

Best game: My favourite game of the year was Arsenal’s 5-3 defeat of Chelsea at Stamford Bridge in October. Minutes to go, Arsenal have worked their balls off to come back into the game and go 4-3 up – aided no doubt by some abject defending – and just when you think they are going to play sensibly, and defend the lead, they bomb forward, scoring a fifth. It was a game full of thrills and spills, fantastic moves and schoolboy defending, but it was such fun! [I can’t find a video of the game, so you’ll have to make do with reading Scott Murray’s MBM in the Guardian]

Oh Scholesy! I’ve missed Paul Scholes, and unimaginably so. I miss the long-range blasts; the beautiful, precise diagonal balls; the little turns to get away from prying tacklers in the middle of the pitch; the change of pace that allowed him the time and space to dictate play; the late bursts into the penalty box; the cunning short passes that helped Manchester United retain possession; heck I’ve even missed those dirty tackles. [You can read my tribute to Scholes, who retired in May, here]

*****

Cricket

Favourite Moment: India’s World Cup victory seems such a long time ago after the humiliation in the test series in England and the recent loss at the MCG. But M.S. Dhoni’s six to seal the win against Sri Lanka in the final at the Wankhede, will remain etched in memory forever. I do, however, want to forget Ravi Shastri’s robotic, headache-inducing commentary that accompanied the moment.

Best ball: James Anderson was terrific during India’s tour of England this past summer, and his delivery to snare V.V.S. Laxman in the second innings of the second test at Trent Bridge, Nottingham was, perhaps, the ball of the year. It seemed to move both ways, first swinging into Laxman, before moving, ever so slightly off the pitch, away from the outside edge to hit the top of off-stump. Geoff Boycott reckoned that it was a simple case of Laxman missing the ball: “He played down Bakerloo and it went down Piccadilly,” he said, but Anderson’s skill certainly can’t be discounted.

Best innings: Alastair Cook made oodles of runs this year and Rahul Dravid batted with obstinacy and courage in the series in England, but neither produced an innings of particularly captivating worth. Pakistan had a terrific year, with Misbah Ul-Haq, Younis Khan and Taufeeq Umar, all making lots of runs, but I haven’t watched enough of them to offer a valuable comment. So the honour will have to go to one of Mahela Jayawardene or Ian Bell, the former for his innings of sparkling elegance in the World Cup Final, and the latter for his splendid late-cut riddled century against India at Trent Bridge. I’ll let you take your pick. I enjoyed both these knocks immensely.

Sehwagology: Virender Sehwag transcended a few boundaries in his brutal 219 from 149 balls at Indore against the West Indies. I didn’t name it in the best innings category for a regulation ODI has, in my opinion at any rate, lost significance. Nonetheless, it was a spectacular effort that at many levels defied description and served as a reminder of not only Sehwag’s genius but also of his contribution to the game. He is, at once, a revolutionary and a visionary.

Best contest: Dale Steyn’s two spells to start the first two sessions on day 3 of the Cape Town test between South Africa and India was as nifty a spell of swing bowling that one could have hoped to see. That Sachin Tendulkar faced 48 of the 66 balls bowled in those spells made it that much more of a spectacle. It was marvelous; test cricket at its very best. Second ball of the first over, Steyn beat Tendulkar with a gorgeous away singer that moved at tremendous pace. Three balls later, another outswinger, only this time, Tendulkar got to the pitch of it and drove it gloriously through extra-cover for a boundary. After a luckless first spell, Steyn came back after lunch to snare Pujara LBW with a gem that straightened upon pitching on leg. In his next over, he had Dhoni caught at third slip with another trademark outswinger. It was a glorious, beautiful day of test cricket, an innings in which Steyn picked up five wickets and Tendulkar made 146.

******

Tennis

Best match: It was THAT match in which Novak Djokovic produced THAT shot. US Open semifinals, the Serb goes down two sets to love against Federer, then wins sets three and four only to trail 5-3, 40-15 in the decider. Everyone who’s watching it thinks, and knows even, that it’s over. Federer places his first serve wide of Djokovic’s forehand, a little undercooked, and boom, the return is past the Swiss even before he’s seen it. It was all Djokovic from there on. To me, the forehand on match point was a moment of pure inspiration. After the match, Federer called it a lucky stroke, he even seemed to question Djokovic’s moral right to go for that shot. Well, there is no arguing that Djokovic took an all or nothing approach, but what else could one expect?

Best point: Novak Djokovic has produced several remarkable points this year, many of them winners from inconceivable angles, when his whole body was seemingly stretched like rubber. But this honour belongs to Rafael Nadal. In the final of the Madrid Masters against Djokovic, after a rally of astounding interplay, Nadal somehow found himself at the net and produced a touch volley, which in turn brought Djokovic forward. The Serb, with his tremendous foot speed, got there with time to spare, and conjured a superb lob, that Nadal first tried to smash on his backhand side, on the turn, only to find it to be beyond his reach. But not one to give up, he chased after it, and manufactured a tweener – a between the legs effort. Only, this was no ordinary tweener. This wasn’t one of those, let-me-just-try-and-stay-in-the-point efforts. It was a tweener-lob – adroit, imaginative, and simply exquisite.

Quote of the year: “Umpires are like emotional girlfriends — once they make up their minds, there’s no point in arguing”: The incomparable Janko Tipsarevic

Comeback player: Almost bizarrely, in a year in which he didn’t win a Grand Slam for the first time since 2002, Roger Federer has to be considered as the comeback player of the year. Since losing to Djokovic in the US Open semifinals, he went 17-0, winning titles in Basel, Paris and London, regained some of the lost aura and once again looked an imperious, graceful force. Federer’s run of form at the end of the year has set up 2012 beautifully.

Player to watch in 2012: Andy Murray is still the best of the rest as far as the rankings are concerned, but the one who came closest to denting the oligarchy at the top in 2011 was Jo Wilfried Tsonga. The big Frenchman was often imposing and fantastic, particularly in his come-from-behind win in the Wimbledon quarterfinals against Federer. And crucially, unlike Murray, he seems to believe that he is capable of beating the top three at the highest of stages.

Most disappointing player: Richard Gasquet – as has been the case for each of the last five or six years. Anyone who can stroke a backhand as regally as he does has no right to be losing as many matches as he does.

Best parliamentarian: Not sure this category should be called “best” parliamentarian, for I have no clue what work Marat Safin – who was elected to the new Duma after elections in early December – actually does. But I’d imagine – or I’d like to believe, at any rate – that anything Safin does, he does it with panache. And for what it’s worth, Sampras had this to say about Safin’s victory: “Marat is very intelligent, articulate and well-spoken so I think it’s great that he’s getting involved in government in his homeland. In 20 years, Marat will be the President of Russia! Trust me, this guy is going to go a long way.”

[1] I’ve watched a whole lot of sport this year, like most other years, but I’m restricting this piece to football, cricket and tennis, the holy trinity as far as I’m concerned.

[2] It’s likely I have failed to mention a number of quality goals in this post. That would either be because I didn’t find them worthy enough or that I simply don’t remember them (I wanted to list out moments which I can conjure from memory as opposed to watching a YouTube compilation of best goals in 2011 and picking my favourite).

Forced to find some cricket that would soothe the searing pain from these open wounds, I turned to the thrills and spills of the Champions League T20 and the slightly less thrill-y but equally spill-y Irani Trophy match between last year’s winners Rajasthan, and the Rest of India.

Many hours of cricket watching later, here’s a random collection of some thoughts that occurred to me.

1. Despite the best efforts of the BCCI to rig the CLT20 to favour the IPL teams like this, this, and this, two IPL teams barely made it through to the semis. When the tournament’s next in India, I think the BCCI will mandate compulsory amputation of one limb for every member of all non-IPL team. And KKR will still find a way to balls-up their semis chances.

2. The skill gap between the best Australian, South African, English, and West Indian teams and the IPL teams (minus the mercenaries) is huge. If, as Aakash Chopra wants, the winners of India’s unknown, unheralded, and uncared for Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy are invited to the CLT20, it will be general embarrassment all around.

3. On the evidence of the Irani Trophy, Rajasthan’s Ranji Trophy win last season was probably more due to dumb luck and everyone else going “meh it’s only the Ranji Trophy.” Being thrashed by 404 runs by what is essentially an India C team is a nice way of being welcomed into the “Super Group” of the Ranji Trophy.

4. Fielding’s still a low priority for your average Indian first class cricketer. From embarrassing dolly drops while catching to unathletic running and lethargic diving and sliding, the average 25 year old Indian cricketer, whether in the irani trophy or in the champions league, fields worse than the average 35 year old cricketer from pretty much elsewhere.

5. The best Indian spinner plays for the Somerset Sabres.

6. Deepak Chahar‘s just got a taste of the pain of the sophomore year of first class cricket. 46-6-237-0.

7. MSD’s decision to bench Varun Aaron (0-73 & 1-44 v Rajasthan) for the England ODIs seems inspired. The selector’s decision to send him to England in the first place, not so much.

8. South Africans are chokers. Period.

9. Many more people would have genuinely tuned into CLT20 if Shah Rukh Khan had not skull-f**ked us three thousand times a day with his lame ads tied in to pathetic attempts at flogging that over-hyped, Rajnikant-wannabe, definitely-dull-as-ditchwater Ra-One.

10. Airtel sponsored the Irani Trophy over the Champions League. This is either very encouraging for Indian cricket or very bad for the career of someone in the marketing division of Airtel.

11. Arun Karthik is the new Javed Miandad. That doesn’t mean Daniel Christian is the new Chetan Sharma, because it is the Champions League T20 and no one really gives a damn.

Much as the powers-that-be would insist that the England tour thrashing was a one-off and we should all calm down and take a deep breath, the underlying dread of more pain to come cannot be shaken off.

Watching the Irani Trophy and the first couple of rounds of the Champions League have done nothing to dispel the doubts.

Venkat was, to begin with, a cricketer of great renown. He wasn’t the first from Madras to play Test cricket for India – the honour belongs to M.J. Gopalan who played a game in 1934 – but he is easily the city’s most celebrated modern-day cricketer. An off-spinner of classical virtues, Venkat bowled with an elegant side-on action, relying on traditional weapons of flight, drift and turn for his wickets. Boasting unerring accuracy in addition to his considerable powers of spin, had Venkat not had the misfortune of sharing the stage with Erapalli Prasanna – one of the greatest off-spinners of all time – and the rest of the famed spin quartet – Bhagwat Chandrashekar and Bishan Bedi – he would have surely gone on to play more than the 57 Tests he played for India and amassed more than the 156 wickets he scalped.

But statistics, as is so often the case, fails to tell the whole tale. Venkat was an astute thinker of the game, an outstanding close-in fieldsman and a man of unimpeachable integrity. His international career spanned 18 years – evincing his supreme fitness – in which he captained India in five Tests and in both the 1975 and 1979 editions of the World Cup. Upon retirement, he enjoyed success in the various jobs that he partook in, including in roles as manager of the Indian team for its tours to Australia and the West Indies in 1985-86 and 1989 respectively and as national selector in 1991-92. As the only man to have both played and umpired in over fifty Tests, Venkat will remain the jewel in the crown of Madras cricket.

Venkat’s Test career coincided for a brief two year spell with that of Krishnamachari Srikkanth, but their roles and their personalities couldn’t have been more starkly different. Srikkanth was an opening batsman of thrilling yet flawed substance. His record scarcely did justice to his potential, but such things were only trivial in the exhilarating world that he lived in. He was an entertainer extraordinaire – impudent and cheeky the bowler’s reputation rarely mattered to him. Gifted with wonderful hand and eye coordination, his strokes weren’t always orthodox. Slashes over point and swishes over mid-on were executed with ease and insolence – all of which made for particularly invigorating viewing.

It was in the shorter format of the game that Srikkanth made his most telling contribution. The newer fans of cricket credit the Sri Lankan openers of the 1996 World Cup – Sanath Jayasuriya and Romesh Kaluwitharana – or the Kiwi, Mark Greatbatch for his role during the 1992 World Cup as proponents of attacking batsmanship in the opening phase of a One-Day innings. It was Srikkanth, though, who was the first to consistently deploy lofted strokes at the launch of an innings. What may seem routine now, however, wasn’t always so. It required a trend setter and Srikkanth was that man.

Between Srikkanth and the most recent lot from Madras – including Ravichandran Ashwin and Murali Vijay – there have been many fine cricketers from the city to represent the country. Yet, they have been unable to make a sustained impression at the international level. Laxman Sivaramakrishnan – a leg spinner of prodigious talents – played no more than nine Tests for India. Woorkeri Raman and Sadagopan Ramesh, two graceful left-handed openers lacked the temperament, if not the talent to cement their places in the team. Neither Hemang Badani nor Sridharan Sriram, both southpaws, was able to translate his domestic form into consistent run-making for India. L. Balaji, a swing bowler capable at one stage of producing deceptive pace, undone by injuries, has seen his career plunge. Likewise, wicketkeeper-batsman, Dinesh Karthik, unlucky in some people’s opinion to have had his calling coincide with M.S. Dhoni’s, has fallen by the wayside. Subramaniam Badrinath, a technically accomplished middle order batsman also seems to have missed the boat – although, perhaps not down to his own doing.

It is left then to Ashwin and Vijay and perhaps a promising young brigade, which includes Abhinav Mukund, a classical left-handed opening batsman, to carry forward Madras’s baton. Vijay, particularly at the Test level, when he has deputised for either Virender Sehwag or Gautam Gambhir has looked like he belongs. Ashwin, yet to play Test cricket has impressed on almost every occasion when he has played for India – including during the recently concluded, triumphant World Cup campaign, and it is only a matter of time before he earns a Test cap.

(A modified version of this  - one that was sans many details – appeared in the Times of India dated April 23, 2011)

The 1996 World Cup was when I was probably beginning to understand cricket well enough to *get* the awesomeness of Jayasuriya’s assaults, Lara’s scintillating counter-attack against South Africa, and of course, the biggest…upset…ever (Kenya v WI). Was in the Chinnaswamy Stadium with my grandfather, watching probably the most titanic and emotional India-Pakistan encounter… ever (this year’s semis included) because, with all due respect, somehow, we managed to beat a better team.

The 1999 World Cup was probably the last cricket I saw with my granddad (even if it was just on the tv). Not surprising because he was already three heart attacks down and after the last one, his only request from the doctor was to get him to live long enough to see the 1999 World Cup (of course, in the hope that India would lift it again, but that was not to be). I can’t remember too many matches of this World Cup, but I do remember the feeling in the pit of my stomach during India’s embarrassing collapse against Zimbabwe. I’ve only ever had that feeling once afterwards, and that was when I saw the last over of the 2008 Perth Test Match. It’s the kind that brings stinging tears to your eyes.

The fact that the 2003 World Cup coincided with my AISSE XII Board Exams is neatly reflected in my “performance” in the exams. The match I remember the most is India v England featuring possibly one of the greatest bowling performances by an Indian in ODI cricket. Yes, Ashish Nehra you did write your name on the same wall featuring Anil Kumble and Kapil Dev. Though the match I had most fun watching was probably Australia v Kenya in the Super Sixes as 40 year old Asif Karim bowled one of the all time great spells of spin bowling in ODI cricket: 8.2-6-7-3! Against Australia!!

I have no memories of the 2007 World Cup. I am told that at the precise moment Dhoni was out LBW to Muralitharan playing back to a doosra, a vein exploded so hard in my forehead that the blood rushed into my brain and erased all memories of that World Cup.

You will forgive me if I confess to you that I did not believe India would win this World Cup at any stage. At 150 odd for 5 against Australia I did not believe. With just 260 on board against Pakistan, I did not believe. When Gautam Gambhir charged out of his crease in a stunning brain freeze in the finals, I did not believe. When Dhoni finally stepped out of his crease and set the ball in a long arc over the long on boundary… I still couldn’t believe. Years of under-performance, failure, crushed hopes and broken expectations had taught me to build defences against the inevitable disappointment, and it took me a while to dismantle the defences and embrace the feeling.

By the time I got the feeling though, perspective had reared its ugly head on the horizon, and before I knew it, Anna Hazare was a on a fast-unto-death in Jantar Mantar.

Dhoni hits the demons out of the park

Sport has this ability to generate special moments that swell to occupy the popular consciousness, often distorting reality: moments that capture the imagination and form moorings in a sea of hazily remembered scorecards. One such mooring is the dismissal of Sachin Tendulkar for 136 against Pakistan in 1999, leading to a 12-run loss for India. Two months later, Brian Lara struck an unbeaten 153 against Australia, earning his team a one-wicket win. Tendulkar was written off as lacking big-match temperament, while Lara was declared the ultimate saviour. For years, these two moments engulfed any statistics that made claims to the contrary.

A similar moment was the India-Sri Lanka semi-final at the 1996 World Cup. I watched as Tendulkar fell for 65, followed by a dreadful batting collapse, and, along with millions of fans, I came to two conclusions. India could not stand the pressure of chasing. India could not survive without Sachin.

This belief was vindicated in 1999 when Tendulkar left the tournament midway after the death of his father. In the one game he missed, the wheels fell off the team’s chase of 252 against Zimbabwe – a loss which proved to be critical.

In 2003, Sachin was on song and so were we. Come the final, however, several million hearts sank the moment Ganguly inexplicably opted to field. Chase? Us?? The moment Tendulkar got out, TV sets were switched off, including MS Dhoni’s.

By 2007, the tide had apparently begun to turn. Tendulkar seemed a spent force in a Team India that seemed to be doing just fine without his contributions. Come the World Cup, however, and India sank to two characterless defeats.

The twin demons have long since been banished in all forms of the game but it was only in 2011 that they were finally laid to rest in the World Cup. I was actually pleased when Dhoni lost the toss because I thought we would pace our innings better if we batted second. My heart definitely skipped a beat when Tendulkar got out but it never occurred to me to write off the match. And even as the celebrations began with all-too familiar paeans of praise for Tendulkar, I could only think – we’ve come a very long way, indeed.

The hallmark of a great sportsman lies in his sense of timing – his ability to churn out his best when it’s most needed. Up until the Final, Dhoni’s scores meandered around the mediocre, his captaincy was adequate if not inspiring – with his choices concerning the selection (or non selection) of R. Ashwin, particularly coming under intense criticism. But stand by his decisions he did, and come the final, he seized greatness with nerveless serenity.

When Virat Kohli fell to a quite magnificent return catch by Tilakaratne Dilshan, Yuvraj Singh – later to be declared the man of the tournament – was expected to walk in. But, Dhoni, not a single feeble thought in his mind, strode in to the middle and clutched the initiative in an inspired and brilliant partnership with Gautam Gambhir. Gambhir, who had till that point, in company with Kohli, nudged and nurdled away at the Sri Lankan total, was reinvigorated by Dhoni’s presence. Together the pair found gaps in the field against the spinners with remarkable precision and ran between the wickets like a dream.

Muttiah Muralitharan – Sri Lanka’s champion spinner playing his last international game – and Lasith Malinga – who had accounted for both the Indian openers – were treated with adequate respect if not complete reverence. When Murali erred, though, Dhoni punished. In fact, the off-spinner was hit for three boundaries by Dhoni, each of them crashed through the offside with extraordinary accuracy.

When Gambhir, fell three runs short of what would have been a hugely memorable century, Dhoni was joined by Yuvraj with 52 runs required off as many balls. But the pair went about the rest of the chase with commanding assurance. In the first ball of the 43^rd over, Dhoni slashed Thisara Perera over point for a brutal six – the noise of which continues to reverberate in my ear. In the 48^th over, with 16 runs still required, he dealt to Malinga, perhaps, the cruellest blow he has received all tournament – a brace of astonishingly powerful whips to the long leg boundary.

And then in second ball of the next over came The Moment – the winning runs – a moment of untainted ecstasy. The victory settled by another violent blow from Dhoni’s blade off Nuwan Kulasekara – the bat coming through in its unusual yet hugely effective arc and striking the delivery with astounding fury. Even as the ball was deposited into the stands, and with Yuvraj Singh rushing to embrace him, Dhoni stood there eyes glazed, just for a jiffy, until the enormity of it all began to sink in. Yet there weren’t any histrionics from him – as if the moment was always inevitable. He clinched greatness over the course of his beautifully paced innings, but the cherry on top of it – that glorious swoosh for the win – will remain captured in a perpetual web of delight.

We watch sport for a variety of reasons and a riveting story is often what we search for. In that sense, this game fulfilled our needs – constantly remaining on a knife-edge. But when you cut through the brilliance – admittedly there was a lot of that, especially from the two centurions, Sachin Tendulkar and Andrew Strauss – you are left to grapple with lots of dismal performances in the field. Easy catches were dropped, misfields were aplenty, the lines from the bowlers – barring Tim Bresnan – were wayward and the captaincy and the field settings from both M.S. Dhoni and Strauss lacked verve and imagination. All of this, while contributing heavily to the narrative, certainly did not make for pretty viewing. So to say that the contest was ‘a perfect advertisement’ for the one-day game – which it may well be, considering the general obsession with runs – veils the quality that both teams lacked.

On current form, regardless of their batting prowess, it looks unlikely that either India or England will be in contention towards the end of the tournament. Unlike test-matches, one-day games can, no doubt, be won on the strength, purely, of a team’s batting. But World Cups tend to be different – might in a single department has never been sufficient to lift the trophy. At least England was missing Stuart Broad, who is easily its best limited overs bowler. India had no such excuses. Its bowling – barring a brief yet stirring spell from Zaheer Khan – was uninspired and consistently poor, outdone in its sloppiness only by the fielding. India must, therefore, consider the option of playing five bowlers, a buffer that is necessary on sub-continental pitches for teams lacking sufficient bowling quality – an option that is particularly viable in India’s case, considering the strength of its batting. This would, of course, mean that one of Virat Kohli, Yuvraj Singh, Gautam Gambhir or Yusuf Pathan would have to be excluded; not an easy decision by any means. But the exigency of the situation calls for a bold move and in view of the form of Kohli (not to mention his fielding skills), Yuvraj’s usefulness with the ball and Pathan’s undeniable match-winning abilities, it may well have to be Gambhir who makes way.

Gambhir is a fine one-day batsman, whose worth to the team is undeniable. Yet, in a squad filled with as many batting stars as India’s is, it is inevitable that one of them will have to miss out. India could learn from Spain’s football team, which for much of the 2010 World Cup, started without Cesc Fabregas, favouring the more defence minded Sergio Busquets in the interests of team-balance. Winning a World Cup is no easy feat. And it certainly won’t be possible if sentiment is preferred over pragmatism.

Vijay’s first innings century was probably valuable. Zaheer and Sreesanth’s reverse swing in the second possibly useful, as were the spells of spin bowled by Harbhajan and Ojha. Pujara’s second innings fifty was also significant I guess, but as far as the bigger picture is considered, I was responsible for India’s win in the Second Test.

Ok… me and God himself who scored the double century and the fifty.

Fine… God, me and the sixty thousand odd Bangaloreans who turned up to watch this Test Match over five days.

I’m not being immodest here! Captain Dhoni himself acknowledged my efforts at turning up for the game! I humbly accept the thanks of a grateful nation..

Today’s game wasn’t as close as the Mohali Test, and the match as a contest virtually ended with those two identical strokes by Tendulkar off two consecutive balls from Hauritz. These were no Sehwag-esque slogs and there was no element of brutality in them whatsoever. It was just Tendulkar in such imperious form that he could got down on one knee and send the ball sailing over the deep midwicket boundary with a graceful arc of the bat. Those shots killed whatever hopes Australia had of creating some pressure with a wicket or two as their shoulders dropped when they realized the impossibility of getting past Tendulkar’s blade on this day. The rest of the day after that was basically a formality.

A fifteen year jinx was finally broken. For fifteen years, Bangalore/Bengaluru hosted Test matches without giving the Indian team a taste of success. In each of these Test Matches, Bangaloreans turned out in their thousands on all the days and cheered their team on to little or no avail. The closest India came to a victory at Bengaluru in the last fifteen years was when an unlikely combination of cloudy weather and Anil Kumble bowling seam up nearly dismantled the Pakistani batting, only to be stopped by bad light.

The reports of Test Cricket’s demise are greatly exaggerated of course. At least in India. Sure, the smaller cities like Mohali, Nagpur and Kanpur have struggled to fill up their vast stadia for Tests there, but recent games at Bengaluru, Kolkata, and Chennai have seen packed houses on most days of the match. It’s probably no co-incidence India has won the latter matches in thrilling encounters. A 30,000 strong crowd getting behind the players is probably the difference between winning and losing (or drawing) the match in such tight games.

Not that the following for Test cricket has diminished in India.

Take a walk through any market or crowded place on a Test Match day and you will find dozens crowding around TVs and radios eagerly following the scores. Go to offices with internet connections and you will find workers surreptitiously following the score on cricinfo while pretending to be deeply engaged in work. Should God himself be batting or the chase get exciting the numbers multiply manifold and all productive activity seems to come to an end.

For sheer drama, Test cricket is unrivalled by any sport and the Indian cricket fan knows it. Test cricket fans aren’t restricted to any one demographic and any region. Nothing demonstrated this better than sitting in the stands at the M. Chinnaswamy Stadium. One saw retirees with binoculars and grim expressions who can possibly verbatim recall the commentary on the day Gavaskar made his debut. One saw families with children in tow, fathers patiently explaining to the children (boys and girls, mind you) the intricacies of the game and the significance of proceedings. One saw young men (and no small number of young women), taking a break from work or college to relax and enjoy themselves in the stadium, rooting for their heroes and providing the atmosphere so necessary for the game. It being Bangalore, one heard a smattering of different languages in all directions, Kannada dominating of course, but excited commentary in chaste Tamil and loud cheering in Hindi making their presence felt!

Much as the luminaries of other sports complain, cricket continues to be a national obsession, and on the evidence of the last few days, probably a good one at that.

A Coda:

A young man who’d just finished college and gotten an offer from a top IT firm wanted to watch the game in Bengaluru with his friends to celebrate. On the day before the Test, he bought his tickets from the stadium counter, and headed home on his two wheeler. Minutes from home he met with a terrible accident and passed away on the spot, the tickets still in his pocket and unstained.

His family was (and probably continues to be) in great shock at the loss of someone so young. To console himself and cherish his son’s memory, his father wrote a letter to his son’s hero, Sachin Tendulkar, explaining what had happened and asking for a small memento; a photograph of his son, autographed by Sachin.

The match had already begun and tight security meant it was going to be difficult to get the letter and the photo to Tendulkar. Fortunately, the brother of the bereaved father was an ex-Ranji trophy player and he happened to be in Bengaluru. The letter and the photo were handed to him with instructions to get it to Sachin in any way possible before he left Bengaluru. Eventually, the letter found its way to Ravi Shastri and on the fourth morning of the match, with Tendulkar 9 runs from a double century, Shastri managed to catch hold of Sachin and hand over the letter and the photo, briefly explaining the situation.

Sachin nodded, briefly looked at the letter and went up into the dressing room.

At around lunch time, the ex-Ranji player got a call to come up to the India dressing room. There, Sachin handed over the autographed photo, with a message to the family expressing his condolence at their loss, and also handed him an autographed India cap that he wore during the match.

He kept the letter.