A Captain’s Musings

In early 2012, at the beginning of what would turn out to be a proper drubbing of a test series at the hands of Australia, I tried to put myself in Dhoni’s shoes. Not when he was sending helicopter dispatches all across cow corners or dispatching the opposite with a zen command over every situation. But when India was at one of its worst under his captaincy.

This is what I wrote then, imagining myself as MSD right after we had been properly decimated in the second test of the series.

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Let’s see now. What have I got?

Three legends of the game, all a generation older than me. A couple of stalwarts like Viru and Zak who’ve been there, done that before me. And of course a whole bunch of talented cricketers who are in the national team because, well, they deserve to be.

A coach who was selected and put in place after a whole bunch of wise people got together to find the right person.

A really bad away series against England that deflated us from our №1 test side position.

A really bad lean patch for me with the bat, personally.

Media, experts, ex-cricketers all baying for our blood. My blood. And especially that of the three most successful Indian cricketers to ever tour Australia. Asking to bring back players whose blood they successfully bayed for and got dropped from the tour (like Bhajji). Oh, I’m not for a minute saying the media decides who gets into the team and who doesn’t. But since they seem to think they have that power, let me just play along with them.

In this series, we have one test where we had at least 3 chances to turn fortunes our way but let them get away. We have another test where we were just simply blown away by three batsmen who were supposedly not in the peak of their form. Yes, yes, we know we have a knack of bringing out-of-form batsmen back to form. Thank you for reminding me. And yes, since you point it out, there’s every chance we’ll bring Shaun Marsh back to form, too.

We also know that we’ll have a hostile, pacy and bouncy wicket awaiting us at the WACA ground in Perth. Where Australia have won 22, drawn 7, and allowed the opposition to win only 9 of out of 38 tests played there.

Oh yes, we also have what is, on paper at least, the best possible, injury-free team from the available lot in India.

We’re probably just one stray comment away (most probably on rediff.com) from the media plastering stories about how our brand endorsements are more important to us than the game. About how we don’t care about test cricket anyway (and nor does the BCCI) since the IPL is just around the corner and that’s where the real money is.

We know we shouldn’t be playing only for pride now. No, no. We should save that for after we lose the third test also. Right now, we should play for the pride of retaining the Border-Gavaskar trophy. We should play because, as Kapil paajisays, we enjoy the game. We should play to allow the Big 3 the honour of going out with their heads held high in their last series Down Under.

So, there’s actually only one thing that we don’t have any of: excuses.

Do we not know any of the above as we go into the dressing room and into the team huddle that we’ll be getting into? We have been accused of being many things, but an ostrich is not one of them yet. We all know all of the above. But we have no option but to not think of even a single one of the points above. If we did, we would become the case study about demoralization that would be discussed in every textbook everywhere.

You know how they say failure is the stepping stone to success? Trying thinking of it in that perspective when a couple of billion people are pointing out to you, right under your nose, every waking moment, that you have failed. Miserably. Inexcusably. Hopelessly.

Now let’s see, what will it take to be successful?

I can’t tell Viru to stop slapping the ball to point when it’s shoulder-high. He didn’t score 195 in a day in Australia by avoiding that shot.

I can’t tell Dravid to improve his technique any further. That man is a walking-talking textbook of correct cricket, for heaven’s sake.

I can’t tell VVS to not look so puzzled when the ball sneaks in under his hanging bat but to bring it down a little faster. He’s the one man who put the fear of God into the Australians for a decade now.

I can’t tell Sachin to “just hang in there.” Not when he’s in such glorious touch. Not ever.

I can’t tell each of the bowlers the right length to bowl during each ball of every single spell.

Heck, I can’t even tell myself to revert to my natural, aggressive game and play helicopter shots and heaves to cow corner to every second delivery.

As for getting replacements for the current players in the team, I have always believed in fighting with the army I have, not with the army I want. We didn’t have Dale Steyn naturalized as an Indian to bowl the last delivery and help us win the inaugural T20 world cup. We had Joginder Singh. We didn’t have Jonty Rhodes at fine leg. We had Sreesanth.

So, what can we do?

We can just go out and do what we can. Step onto the turf with chins up. With a spring in the step. A steel in the eyes. A little extra energy in each dive. The good sense to leave. The hand-eye-foot coordination to find the sweet spot of the bat each time. The resolve to not give in, to lethargy, to pressure, and most importantly, to the opposition. And above all, a belief that we’re going to give it nothing but our best each moment.

What we don’t need is any additional weight.

Like that of the expectation of an entire nation to produce a miracle. Like that of the criticism of experts and media alike about our performance so far. Of track records and records in the past. And of records to be produced in the future. We’re not wishing any of that away as if they were not real. We’re only not focusing on them.

Because, you know what? We have a game to play. And to win.