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Journalism of Courage
PUNE, Jan 9: Flashback 1940. Vijay Merchant, speaking at the Hindu Gymkhana, warned Bombay (as it was known as then) that it was becoming too complacent, neglecting school cricket at its own cost.
For Merchant, the writing on the wall was clear: Bombay needed discipline and dedication if it was to retain its reputation as the great monarch of Indian cricket. It had to get rid of its apathy and complacency. Less than a month later, at the Poona Club, Maharashtra defeated Bombay in the year’s inaugural Ranji Trophy match.
January 7, 1999. The coroner’s statement about Mumbai’s shocking failure to make it to the Ranji Super League, having been beaten by a team that has never been considered much of a presence in the league, has arrived. “They seemed to be overconfident and by the time they came to terms with reality, it was too late,” said Dilip Sardesai, speaking to The Indian Express in Mumbai. Ditto were the thoughts of coach Ashok Mankad and a host of other current and ex-players.
The namesand the faces might have changed. Bombay, the team that holds the distinction of being the only side in the world to win a national championship 15 times in a row, has become Mumbai. The city Poona has become Pune, but Maharashtra’s ousting of Mumbai in the first round of the 1998-99 Ranji season has definite echoes of the time that went by almost 60 years ago.
When the Ranji trophy was established in 1933-34, there was just one team from Bombay that joined the Board of Control for Cricket in India. But Gujarat and Maharashtra left to form their own association, unwilling to get stifled under Bombay’s domination. Poona had staged a match against the touring MCC side in 1933-34 and the team was called Poona XI.
The Maharashtra Cricket Association was formed under Prof DB Deodhar alongwith Makarand Bhave and VT Talim. In the inaugural year, they went down to Bombay, the ultimate champions, by a narrow margin on the first innings.
Then came Poona Club, 1939-40. Vijay Hazare came back to his home ground andtook 7-94, and centuries came from Khandu Rangnekar and Sohoni. A 157 from the 46-year-old skipper Deodhar had Maharashtra declare at 543-8, the then highest score in the championship, and Western India, who had beaten Maharashtra thrice in the past five years were conquered. Maharashtra had won its first Ranji Trophy match.
The next triumph came over Baroda in January. Baroda put up 303 and had CS Nayadu, CK Nayudu’s younger brother who had developed into one of India’s first dangerous leg-spinners, having taken 13 wickets in the previous match. But Hazare was rewriting a spate of records — Wazir Ali’s Ranji record of 222, Amarnath’s all-corner’s Indian record of 241 and the ninth wicket partnership record of 245 with Nagarvala (still unbroken). He made 316 not out, becoming the first Indian to score a triple century.
The semi-final was against Southern Punjab and Maharashtra cruised through and in the ensuing finals, United Province were dismissed at 237, and the Ranji Trophy had a new winner.
Theteam set records in one match, only to surpass them in the next. The next year’s season — 1940-41 — continued the trend when they defeated Chennai in the finals. Like all good things, however, the reign had to end.
During their age of glory, apart from Mumbai, they had devastated opposition from the north, the south and the east. The downfall was sudden, initiated by Hazare’s leaving and taking permanent residence in Baroda. This was followed by an inexplicable loss of form of Sohoni, who was never to regain its touch.
In the next season, after rewriting a history of titanic totals, Maharashtra crashed to a facile 39 and made an unceremonious exit in the very first round. In the next 58 years, successes were few and far in between and Maharashtra was to reach the finals only once — in 1970-71 — where it ultimately went down to Mumbai.
Maharashtra seemed to have relegated its position of glory to Mumbai. But not before it had proven the validity of an oft repeated lesson: Pride and complacency issuccess’ greatest enemy.
If only Mumbai had heard before. Then Ashok Mankad would have been spared the glimmer of tears in his eyes as he stood outside the dressing room ruing his team’s misplaced optimism…once again, too late.
