Our Own Dominica

Update: Scanning through this post one more time, it seems especially disjointed. Apologies: it has been a long day. Abuse welcome.

Quick post on Dominica: I did not get to watch the end to the Dominica test match: umpiring duties reduced me to frantically checking the score on my phone, between overs. Incredible as it seemed, the number of balls faced by Fidel Edwards seemed to keep growing, while Shivnarine Chanderpaul’s name might as well have been etched onto my touchscreen. Finally, just as the match I was standing at started heating up as well, we were given a simple equation: 180 runs in 47 overs. Or at least that was what most of the cricket viewing world seemed to reduce that match to. 3.82 runs per over, for the Number 1 test team  in the world, undefeated in a test series for 3 years, boasting some of the country’s all-time greats in its lineup (even the reduced squad included two members from the ESPNCricinfo All-Time Indian XI). Surely for a team purportedly on the cusp of staking out a solitary spot at the top of cricket’s hierarchy, this was not too much to ask? I was annoyed by the declaration at first, I really was. And I wasn’t alone: see Samir Chopra, Andy Zaltzmann and Sriram Veera for a sampling of some of the more critical reactions. The general sentiment was simply that great teams stamp their authority, go for the tough chase, are not afraid. Now that I have had some more time to think about Dominica, I find myself agreeing less with the views espoused in those pieces. A mild frustration is the most that I can claim, ala Sidvee.

Upon reflection, it seemed apt that I was forced to check the score on my phone, forced to see the match situation reduced to a couple of numbers. Unable to actually watch what was going on, the questions started coming: how difficult was scoring going to prove? Surely pressing for runs is a different prospect from merely attempting survival, making the situation facing Dravid and Laxman entirely different from the one that Fidel and Chanderpaul dealt with? Dhoni had promoted Raina to give it some humpty, displaying intent…and yet declared shortly after the batsman was dismissed. Something must have transpired between them once Raina returned, perhaps a confirmation of how much more difficult the chase would prove than casual viewers could possibly know. This was, after all, the same Dhoni who had made a laudable declaration in the previous test match, who had entrusted an under-pressure Murali Vijay with the task of kick-starting the chase rather than grafting for runs, who has an assurance about all his decisions. Surely, surely, players of the calibre of Dravid and Laxman would know whether a run chase was on or not? This transcends the nebulous “attitude” cited by so many critics: this is about knowledge. You would be hard pressed to find two batsmen with more knowledge about run making than Dravid and Laxman.

None of these thoughts are captured by 180 in 47. And why would they be? This is a test match we are talking about, that most wonderfully complex of sporting spectacles. Reducing it to a frustrated soundbite is tempting, but futile. The more cynical of the critics will point out that in the long run, the lost opportunity will not matter, because history will simply register the 1-0 series win as another milestone for this Indian team. I must demur: reductionism cuts both ways. The same scorecards will also register 180 in 47, a chase abandoned with 86 required off 90, 7 wickets in hand. Try injecting nuance in then.

A Cricketing View addresses the critics head-on, looking at a whole bunch of quick fourth innings chases. A related excerpt from the same post (which I recommend reading in its entirety):

India have themselves chased down larger totals at least as fast, when the clock was not at issue, thrice in the last three years. They chased 387 against England at 3.92 per over at Chennai in 2008, 207 against Australia at 4.6 an over at Bangalore in 2010, and 258 against Sri Lanka at 3.76 an over at Colombo in 2010. Then there was the chase at Mohali in 2010, the one at Delhi against Pakistan in 2007, the one at Kandy in 2001 and the one at Adelaide in 2003. This is not a record that suggests that this side repeatedly falls short of greatness. Rahul Dravid played in all those run chases, and VVS played in most of them. If they agreed that the one at Dominica was beyond reach, then I’ll at least take their judgment very seriously.

Dileep Premachandran is measured as well:

After 15 wins and only three defeats in the 27 Tests that MS Dhoni has captained India, his win-loss ratio is superior to that of Steve Waugh (41-9) and Mike Brearley (18-4). The win percentage – 55.55 – puts in the shade Viv Richards, 54%, and Clive Lloyd, 48.64%. That’s not to say that Dhoni belongs in such illustrious company yet. But those numbers put into perspective irate comments on social-networking platforms – “gutless wimp” being one description of him – in the aftermath of India’s 1-0 series win in the Caribbean [...] while some disappointment over the deceptive scoreline – 2-0 would have been a fairer reflection of the balance of power over the three Tests – is natural, the criticisms say more about the new fans’ radio phone-in mentality than they do about Dhoni.

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As Indian fans, we find ourselves in uncharted territory: the number 1 team in the world. Our team may not be undisputed number 1, but certainly stakes a stronger claim to the title than any other team out there. And now we want India to be in the same category as those great number 1 teams in history, we want to have those great moments. We want a Greenidge at Lords moment. We want a 16/17 test winning streak moment. We want to be able to empathize with Michael Holding when he talks about how his West Indies teams would always go in for the kill, whether they were up 4-0 or 1-0 in a test series. I think all of it stems from an implicit understanding that history requires us to go beyond the numbers when we talk about greatness; ironically, it is this understanding that ultimately fuels a reductionist spiral. Do we talk about the West Indies’ 15-year unbeaten streak, or do we get glazed eyes talking about Holding to Close, and Viv hooking sixes after being knocked over by a bumper? It is near impossible to define greatness, yet we all feel confident about identifying its absence.

Intuitively, this Indian team doesn’t feel quite  ”great” yet. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t. At the same time, it seems foolish to point to the Dominica draw as the “AHA” moment when this intuition was confirmed. I have a hard time coming up with the substance of greatness, but structurally, it seems like a construct that lives largely in the minds of fans. It is a fragile construct, repeatedly torn down, redefined, appropriated, re-appropriated and bounced around far too carelessly (a crime that I am guilty of as well.) I am also increasingly convinced that the resolution of this process moves away from the empirical, the victim of its own tractability. Coming to terms with that is something that we as fans have to confront, a responsibility that we cannot abjure- to blame the Indian captain for our own laziness would be too convenient. We need to confront our own Dominica as fans, to figure out what it is we want and more importantly, why we want it.

 

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