Boys II Men

Journalists turn teams to toast, they do not toast them. But now glasses are clinked, and the virtues of each player recounted into the morning. Nicotine and time will fade the memory of this tour, but still we hope there will be something left to hand over to a grandson with a plastic bat. It is a tale that demands re-telling, that commands us to pass it on, a series we owe to Ganguly8217;s men not to forget in its entirety.

What will we say? Maybe we8217;ll start with the Indian doctor, in Brisbane on the second morning, who blithely asked what India8217;s lowest score ever in a Test match was. Or the headline that read INDIAN SUMMER OVER? The believing was yet to come.

Maybe we8217;ll begin with Ganguly, chatting with this writer after he landed in Melbourne in late November, not so much doing the answering but the questioning, wondering what Australia8217;s bowling line-up would be. He was already believing, somewhat at least.

But still, even his confidence was not pure, his mind laced with nervousness and infected with anxiety. Ganguly never saw the first three balls he faced in Adelaide when India chased victory, he did not sleep well either the night before Australia chased in Sydney. It was as if they had earned their moment, yet could not quite comprehend that it had come.

Neither could we. Every day when the cricket was done, before we sprang open laptops and proceeded to pound away, for a moment as the cigarette quietly burnt in the ashtray we8217;d smile. How many days, years, tours had gone by, writing epitaphs under the light of a mournful lamp, just altering the scores and a few names but sending home the same old story. But now we were writing not obituaries but the celebration of a coming of age. Fingers flew.

Calls would be made, interviews done, stories heard. Two players talk of Laxman, lying in the dressing room under a table somewhere, with his headphones on waiting to bat. 8216;8216;Old songs,8217;8217; says the unruffled one later, and it can8217;t be helped but said his bat made its own sweet music. Sehwag, of course, played jazz, cool and inventive and compelling. If he fears anything we have not found it yet.

Tendulkar has spent a lifetime in the middle, but here he was in the verandah of the dressing room, having become that most incomprehensible of people: the watcher. Ganguly would sometimes be by his side, just talking and talking, about anything but cricket he says, for once the team being there for the great one rather than the other way around.

Affection for Tendulkar in these parts still knows no boundaries. In Melbourne, one evening, an Australian wheeling his few-month-old baby boy stopped for a chat in the hotel lobby. He was waiting to meet Tendulkar, and eventually he did, and the subject was the boy, who carried the unusual name of Oliver Sachin Smith.

Everywhere the bizarre was commonplace. Akash Chopra should have been shivering in Brisbane, this overseas debutant in cricket8217;s most rugged land, but he says, before facing a ball, that 8216;8216;I8217;m excited. It8217;s the only way I8217;ll find out how good I am8217;8217;. Whoa! Chopra plays straight, his game is all cautious calculation, and perhaps this is inevitable from a man whose father manufactures geometry boxes.

Maybe we8217;ll never really know why it was that India8217;s top batsmen, Tendulkar and Laxman and Dravid and Ganguly, so many runs to their name, chose this tour to produce together a batting exhibition never seen on foreign shores. Psychologist Sandy Gordon would say in Sydney, 8216;8216;They8217;ve grown up together, they8217;re reaching their peak at the same time. Their performances are no coincidence8217;8217;.

The old-timers are wary of self-congratulation, they just point to the young openers with gratitude.

This team is not insular, not arrogant, they mingle, sign, chat, more at ease than teams in the past. One day Laxman, in Sydney, takes 20 minutes to walk from the practice nets to the dressing room, a 40-second stroll, because he8217;s signing papers, bats, shoulders, eager to go but reluctant to offend. It is lovely to watch.

But they like it here. They like the coolness in the air that allows them to bat, and they do on and on, they enjoy the absence of scrutiny and interruption as they amble down city lanes. There appears no curfew like the old days, and this is splendid, it suggests a grown-up team, aware of its responsibilities.

In Sydney, Sandy Gordon talks of them as 8216;8216;global travellers, far more worldly, able to entertain themselves8217;8217;. He grins and says at one point that he even had a conversation with a player about the finer points of wine. Not everything, importantly, is cricket.

In Melbourne, Dravid trundles off to see the musical We Will Rock You, the zen master taking his day off. When Justin Langer talks about Indian batsmen in a meditative state we know who he is referring to. Purpose is branded on Dravid8217;s forehead, his wrists are all supple steel, sometimes even with eyes closed you can feel the pleasure of his strokeplay, so tuneful is the sound of bat hitting ball.

Dravid8217;s serenity is offset by Kumble8217;s grimness, a player who sets fields with a headmaster8217;s stentorian tone and meets every misfield with murderous look. Cricket has never been a garden party for the leg-spinner, his veins are swollen with competitiveness, and those who forget that have earned the right to look abashed. Finished, huh?

John Wright and Ganguly, and the senior players, have made this a team. No 8216;8216;I8217;8217; in this word. It8217;s evident in the morning volleyball games Ganguly looks the coolest, Tendulkar the most competitive, in the huddles after every wicket, in Kumble quietly talking to Murali Karthik when he8217;s getting clobbered, in the pat on the bottom of disconsolate Parthiv Patel, in the way they sprinted across the field in Adelaide at the very end of a terrible first day to hug, pound, high-five Sehwag, who8217;d taken a fabulous catch to dismiss Simon Katich.

This bond is reflected in the keeping of a secret. So many days we ask, what8217;s the team motto, and they wag fingers and grin and walk away. This confidentiality, by every teammate, is unusual, admirable: it speaks of a powerful oneness, a sense that sometimes, some things, must remain with the dressing room doors, never to be revealed.

Even us, who thrive on leaked information, are taken by this. Of course, it helps that it is laughingly said that anyone who reveals the motto will be cursed on this tour. To a bunch of superstitious fellows this is a good reason as any to zip any lip.

But it8217;s oddly comforting that the final memory of the Test tour will be dejection, despair, disappointment. It8217;s nice to hear a player talk of emptiness after Sydney could not be won, it8217;s heartening in a way to listen to a wounded, desperate Harbhajhan wishing he had been there, playing, contributing. It tells us this team is aware its task of an overseas win remains unaccomplished, that their journey is far from done, that as a cricketing side there still exists an incompleteness about them.

Fittingly, they8217;re not ready to toast themselves. But surely we can.

TIME PASS
Off the field, hitting the perfect PR pitch

ASHOK MALIK

ON Tuesday, January 6, the last day of a pulsating Test series and of Steve Waugh8217;s international career, Indian cricket announced it had a voice, literally.

As first Sachin Tendulkar, then Rahul Dravid and finally Saurav Ganguly went up to the podium at the Sydney Cricket Ground, praised their team, did the customary round of thanks, paid a short but dignified tribute to the retiring Waugh, it seemed such a long way from the inarticulate 1990s.

Take the three previous Indian tours of Australia. In 1985-86, India was led by Kapil Dev, drew 0-0 a series it could have won 2-0. In one Test, the run chase was interrupted by rain. Asked why the scoring rate hadn8217;t been upped, Kapil famously declared the weather forecast had predicted no rain.

In 1991-92, it was Mohammed Azharuddin who led his team to defeat, mumbling his way through Australia, bland press conference to bland press conference. In 1999, it was Sachin Tendulkar who refused to say much. He could speak, he had opinions 8212; read his recent interviews and you know he thinks hard about his game, about life 8212; but he was just too shy, just too busy playing the honourable schoolboy.

This time the boys had grown. Ganguly, Dravid, Tendulkar and VVS Laxman are in their prime, they place in history assured, their self-assurance in place. Add Kumble to the list and you have a bunch as experienced as any, speaking with authority, with humour, with the confidence that sometimes breeds self-deprecation.

Neither is public speaking slave to the English language. The one big change of the 1990s is that Indian society has been freed of the inhibition that using English is the only mean to be heard. Perhaps Hindi television changed, perhaps Hinglish newspaper headlines did. The fact is 20 years ago a Virender Sehwag or a Harbhajan Singh would have been forced to speak in English and only English as understood by an Anglo-Australian commentator.

Today, he8217;ll speak English as he can speak it, he8217;ll speak Hindi if he wants to, he may even pepper one with the other. He8217;ll do what he wants. He symbolises cricket8217;s emerging market 8212; already emerged market? 8212; damn it, he sets the rules.

It8217;s not social transformation and market forces alone. Sometimes the truth is simpler to explain. To use an old cliche, Indian cricket today represents the symbiotic relationship between words and deeds. Since the Indian team is doing well, it is confident enough to voice its opinions. One feeds the other.

Part of the credit must go to the captain, a bull-headed character who makes a statement everytime he opens his mouth and even when he doesn8217;t. He represents the robust post-liberalisation Indian, even as Sunil Gavaskar was the prototype of the cautious, passive Indian of the 1980s.

The other change is institutional. Like its politicians, India8217;s cricketers took their time to realise that their industry was increasingly media-driven, that camera hounds and sound bite fiends were continually looking for the next pretty face, the new smart line.

So instead of allowing some silly journo to put words into your mouth, make sure you have something to say. If you don8217;t, the press handling sessions at the coaching camp would help.

Every day in Australia the hungry press got to talk to the star of the day 8212; from Tendulkar to Kumble, even Akash Chopra. Suddenly, from the 8216;8216;silent majority8217;8217;, the Indian team seemed the vocal brigade.

Don8217;t blame the media. Thank it.

Captain8217;s Innings

CHANDRESH NARAYANAN

BEFORE the tour began most punters would have bet on India needing a new skipper 8212; and a new face in the middle order 8212; by mid-January. India would lose 4-0 and Ganguly would fail as both captain and batsman. It didn8217;t happen, of course: India shone, and Ganguly led the way. Here8217;s how:

BACKING KUMBLE:
Even before the tour began, Ganguly was under pressure on team selection matters. He was torn between Kumble and Kartik. While every armchair selector reckoned Kartik the ideal choice, Ganguly went for Kumble. Despite questions on Kumble8217;s potency on overseas pitches, Ganguly backed his senior pro and was repaid in kind

TOSSING IT UP:
On an overcast morning at Brisbane, when everyone was urging him to bat, Ganguly won the toss and opted to bowl. At the end of the first day most thought they8217;d been proved right. But Zaheer changed it all in 45 minutes on Day II and India scored a moral victory at the Gabba. At Melbourne and Sydney, up against a recharged Lee, Ganguly backed his openers and was proved right with two century opening stands

OPENING STATEMENT:
Aakash Chopra was destined to fail in Australia and Sehwag was no opener. Ganguly had the option of Ramesh and Dasupta but stuck to his instinct, even when five bowlers were needed, even when Parthiv was disappointing behind the stumps. In return, Sehwag and Chopra offered the promise of India8217;s best opening act in years

LEADING FROM THE FRONT:
Ganguly was singled out for 8216;8216;chin music8217;8217;. He decided to chuck that and write his own symphony 8212; and became, improbably, the first Indian centurion of the tour at Brisbane. What effect that had on his team, his opponents and the series can only be speculated8230;

CHANGING LINE-UPS:
Two key batting-order changes that showed what Ganguly8217;s all about. First, at Melbourne, with five overs to play, he walked in ahead of off-colour Tendulkar. Not only did it send out a message to the Aussies, it played a big role in restoring Sachin8217;s confidence. And at Sydney, when Ganguly8217;s turn came to bat, he sent in Laxman8230; the rest is geometric progression.

Going for gold
The Indian cricket team is right up there with the New York Yankees and Manchester United when it comes to powering the game it plays

CHANDRESH NARAYANAN

THE cheesy family pictures and the lap of honour on his teammates8217; shoulders made for instant feel-good television, but retiring captain Steve Waugh could have made it to the history books on the basis of just one observation: 8216;8216;The rivalry between Australia and India is becoming as worthy a tradition as the Ashes.8217;8217;

It wasn8217;t a reference to India8217;s potential with the bat and the ball, an unpleasant surprise though it may have been to the Aussies. It was an acknowledgement that India8217;s economic muscle now powers world cricket.

Ask Cricket Australia CA, whose officials are quietly patting themselves on the back for scheduling a four-Test series instead of the decisive three. 8216;8216;The Border-Gavaskar trophy is attracting a certain mystique in Australia,8217;8217; says Peter Young, public affairs manager of CA. 8216;8216;The sensational series last time, followed by India8217;s strong performance in Australia this time is helping build a new tradition. It translates into strong commercial appeal.8217;8217;

A look around the grounds used in the India-Australia Test series shows exactly how much commercial mileage the visiting country generated for the CA. Hero Honda, Royal Stag, Krackjack billboards occupy vantage positions around the stadiums. ESPN-Star has bought the TV rights for the Asian markets. Captain Waugh himself bore an Indian logo on his bat. And the crowd collections, of course, created new records.

8216;8216;The strong interest in the game in India is important to us. The media rights for instance are an important income source for us,8217;8217; admits Young.

The phenomenon is not limited to Australia. The England and Wales Cricket Board ECB also acknowledges that a series with India on the other side of the hyphen impacts revenues considerably. 8216;8216;Australia is the biggest draw at the box office, but India is certainly close behind in terms of driving ticket sales,8217;8217; says Andrew Walpole, ECB media manager. 8216;8216;The 2002 India Test and ODI series produced excellent attendances.8217;8217;

According to expert estimates, India accounts for between 60 and 80 per cent of the total money in world cricket today. Boards across the world want a share of the pie: India has already been inked in for an obscure one-day series in Europe this August.

But where does this money come from? Navneet Sharma, CEO of Nine Yards Sports 038; Entertainment, pegs it to a booming middle-class. 8216;8216;India will be one of the top markets very soon. And marketers have assessed that there are two things that drive the nation: cricket and films.8217;8217;

That is, of course, what made Lagaan work. But Percept D8217;Mark CEO and executive director Sanjay Lal points out why cricket carries so much weight: 8216;8216;In Australia cricket is rivalled by rugby, England is also strong on football, but we have just cricket. So sponsors will be forever looking for some unique way of associating themselves with the game.8217;8217;

Since BCCI has limited official sponsors to three Pepsi, TVS and Videocon and ICC has eight official sponsors, the next best option is to brand cricketers. Lal cites the example of Vodafone, the English cellular service provider which splits its sponsor8217;s funds between motorsport and cricket.

Even individual cricketers from other nations do well in their association with Indian cricket. Steve Waugh, Brian Lara, Glenn McGrath, Brett Lee, Stephen Fleming are only some of the star cricketers endorsing Indian brands. 8216;8216;Timex is a brand in South Asia and Australia, so they have signed up Brett Lee, who works for both regions,8217;8217; points out Lal.

What also works in their favour is their accessibility. A Ricky Ponting, for instance, is available for endorsements for between Rs 35-50 lakhs, much less than what a comparable Indian cricketer would demand. But the Pontings, Lees and Flemings, too, are getting smarter by the day.

Says Sharma, who handles Ponting on a 8216;8216;non-exclusive8217;8217; basis, 8216;8216;Realising that the Indian market is accepting them and is ready to pay their price, they are also asking for minimum guarantees.8217;8217;

With Indian corporates earmarking as much as 90 per cent of their sponsorship budgets for cricket 8212; the same amount that would go to rugby or football in Australia and England 8212; despite improved performances in other sports, the Indian cricketer himself is in a unique position: in demand at home, unaffordable elsewhere.

As ironical is the fact that Indian cricketers have little competition at home as brand ambassadors. Leander Paes and Vishwanathan Anand are the only two non-cricketing stars to cut any ice now. Till the long-awaited hockey boom happens, the money plant, it seems, will continue to grow in cricket8217;s backyard.