All bets are off: Punter scores again

Perhaps an Indian captain who has led with some style this summer was desperate to create an improbably happy conclusion to his fading fairy tale. Perhaps a captain who has been tattooed with short deliveries decided a statement of valour was necessary. But perhaps the Australians will wonder why the best batsman in the world allowed his captain to come before him.

For once a batting order alteration was not merely a detail scribbled down only by dutiful statisticians, but a sudden and sufficient acknowledgement that Tendulkar’s form is as rickety as most believe and that his confidence has partially corroded.

Never has he allowed ‘‘slump’’ to be attached to his name, itself a feat of some distinction, but his scores have been a reminder that cricket humbles even genius in time. It was a moment both bizarre and poignant, but perhaps it was inevitable that even this indefatigable warrior for India would one day require protection. With India 27/2, with Australia still 165 in front, its value could well be discovered today.

Cynics, of course, have already begun their packing for Sydney and pessimists have started booking sightseeing tours for the fifth day. After a long day of endless drudgery and disproportionate reward even talk of miracles was muted, for India’s quota surely is exhausted.

For most of yesterday, under a sky as blue as the sea, cricket returned for the most part to normalcy, order was restored: Australia performed with majesty, India were inadequate, the contest uneven. A script long since predicted was for once being followed.

India slogged, there is no other word. Bowlers squared their shoulders and hurled down ball after ball, probing for frailty, hunting for a flaw in technique, a defect in concentration. But, while their labour was honourable and runs were restricted, their art was insufficient. There are no conjurers in this team.

Wickets were less frequent than desert rain in the first two sessions, the tale on the scoreboard growing more bleak by the hour. Eventually, after tea, perspiration and persistence were rewarded, the Australians collapsing — though such a word seems inappropriate, given the score — from 6-502 to 558 all out.

By day’s end Anil Kumble forbidding look had softened to what passed for a smile, for his 6-176 from 51 overs is more flattering than it initially suggests. As the leggie perfectly put it: ‘‘I just waited and waited for the batsman to make a mistake. You have to keep plugging away.’’ After all, these were figures won after bowling to cricket’s most devastating batting line-up, amongst them statistically the year’s finest batsman.

Ricky Ponting’s average this year, till Sunday, was 86.78. Perhaps this did not please him sufficiently for, after his highest Test score of 257, it has risen even higher. In the context of this calendar year, Bradmanesque would not be an ill-fitting tag. His six centuries this year include scores of 169, 206, 242 and this 257, and presumably no tests on his stamina need be done anymore.

Ponting, and his teammates, appeared to bat as if ‘‘remember Adelaide’’ was inscribed on their gloves, for restraint had replaced flashiness, gallop had been substituted with graft. Occasionally Ponting would unlock his handcuffs and surrender to adrenaline, but mostly this was an energetic, collected batsman calmly putting together a masterpiece. Clearly Picasso would have applauded his brushwork.

No other Australian made a hefty impact, though as collisions go the one between Ajit Agarkar’s short ball that didn’t rise and Steve Waugh’s elbow was a beauty. Australia’s legend made a hasty exit after his second ball for treatment, returned to a standing ovation but soon left to another, dismissed by Kumble finally for 19, though some insist the umpires could have sent him on his way earlier.

Umpires, like batsmen are not immune to error, though this will not placate Akash Chopra, who looked like a man given the electric chair for shoplifting when David Shepherd gave him out caught behind to a delivery that kissed pad not bat.

Two days remain of this Test, the pitch has displayed no eccentricity, eight Indian batsmen are left and Australia is lathering on its war paint. To even draw, India must mirror Kumble’s toil and bat out today, and then some of tomorrow, accumulating at least a score of 350 which would put them 158 ahead. As Kumble said, even with a 150 lead, you just never know, and he was not merely being wishful.

But most vitally, at the fall of the first wicket this morning, Tendulkar must walk in. And then he, absurdly the only one of the experienced Indians without a century, must make an overdue statement of intent. Nothing less will suffice.