Test Cricket: An Emotion

The pandemic and its causal lockdown haven’t been easy on anybody. Due to our different mental temperaments, we all must find different ways to cope with isolation. About three months into the lockdown, people found and began carving that niche for themselves to retreat to in times of need. What soothes one person may be different from another aspect that brings joy to someone else. I believe now more than ever that the resilient beings that we are, we just need to find what works for us and stick with it. For me, it was cricket.

Growing up in what is now being called a T20 childhood, I was immediately hooked on to IPL matches at a young age. Now, this wasn’t because of any love for the game, as much as it was the most convenient thing to watch. My support for Mumbai Indians (MI) from day one came for no particular reason other than it being my home city. I had no opinion on the players, nor did I understand their unique skills. All I can recollect about my craze was the six hitters for which the IPL was garnering special attention and the opportunity to watch a match in the heat of the stadium every season courtesy of close friends. My liking for IPL can be seen in the numerous trading cards purchased, at a time when consumerism for this type of cricket had not taken center stage. At a time when I could buy five cards for the price of 15 rupees. A pack of cards would be a reward for a job well done, and I do have faint recollections of going to collect cards for winning the school’s GK competition. Much like my mother can spout 1984 Grammy trivia, I too could (and maybe still can) talk on and on about the 2011 season of the competition, from which I have the most memorabilia.

Now, what was the importance of this competition? Not the feeling of brotherhood you felt with other MI supporters, but the effect it had on my building. Come March, cricket fever would take over the compound, with up to three simultaneous matches being played in a strip of just 50 meters. But here comes the important part – was I ever good at the game? Not really. I was as average as one would expect, as I had my heart set on football, the sport I played for my school. I wouldn’t say I liked playing cricket in the building as I constantly pestered the other kids to take up football instead – primarily because I was never allowed to bat or bowl at the top of the order, and seemed to be the second last pick due to my size. Now, being one of the younger kids who had the gall to ask the older kids to play, size was never a detrimental factor while playing football. But the more I asked them, the more reserved they became about the game to a point where I stopped going down to play. In hindsight, that was a really poor choice to make, but alas, that’s an issue for another time.

Every year, cricket fever would die out, and I don’t think I touched a ball again except in school. Yes, IPL seasons did come and go, but those didn’t leave an impact. Fast forward to years later, when we shift into an almost empty, amenity-filled building before the nationwide (and perpetuating) lockdown. In hopes of exercising (most of it by free will, but impossible without the encouraging words from my mother), I picked up cricket as we had an entire net to ourselves, and I was looking to spend some quality time with my father as well. With a few building uncles in our group, a small but sufficient cricket group was born at the height of lockdown. Having not purchased a bat in almost five years, we bought all new equipment and set out to play. Having to play alone when my teammates had to step outside to take office phone calls, I picked up a knack for bowling in the net. Almost like a machine, I would pick up four balls and continuously work on my line and length in the absence of batsmen. With a virtual stump in mind at the far end of the net, I worked on my action and understood the game’s nuances. And I think it worked – soon I could bowl with ease in the limited run-up we had and receive the most coveted praise ‘ये बॉल नहीं बॉम्ब फेक रहा है,’ loosely translated to ‘he’s throwing bombs, not balls.’ Of course, this was only in leisure playing – the real thing and skill were quite far away.

This new found love for the game was supported with cricket season, having been on hold for over ten months, with the Indian tour of Australia. We now do not mention the IPL as a tournament, for my opinions on T20 cricket have changed drastically. The ODIs and T20s are not the main foci points of this blog – Test cricket has taken the place of limited-overs as by far the best format of the game.

Indian fans, although the largest and most passionate in the world, have never truly understood the concept of Test cricket. You hear the infamous stories from the India Pakistan ODI matches of the crowds going wild and the controversies from tense T20 matches, with unruly showdowns grabbing everyone’s attention. But you never hear the stories about the intense game that is Test cricket. As a novice in this field of viewership, I had never understood sitting for almost 8 hours for five days watching a team rack up a total of 300 in 100 overs. I used to say things about ‘playing faster to win’ about this format, which I now despise.

The first test match of the series, played at Adelaide, was a monumental failure, with the Indian team going for 36 – all out in the 2^nd innings, and the Australians coasting to a victory. I watched this game with a lot of intent, as I was technically on holiday, and decided to mix things up. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. As it was a day-night match, it broadcasted in India at the sane time of 10 am, which limited the amount I could watch owing to the tremendous pressures of work. But as I watched, I started to love this more and more. The way the red ball was swinging. The way the batsmen took their time to find the right ball to attack. The outstanding sledging. The lack of boundary pressure, which was surmounted by the wicket pressure. The idea of a second innings for a player to make a comeback in the game. But more than the format, the emotions that were flying around the pitch made it far more interesting than any 20 overs match I have seen. Sitting at home, I did feel that sense of patriotism with every ball bowled, with every wicket taken, and every half-century scored on the field. I felt this patriotism in a negative way as well – something I look back on as a learning process for myself: every intentional body-ball bowled by the Australians and every piece of (unintelligible) sledging on the pitch made me angry. That’s the emotion I associate with the game. This is the truth of sport – it brings together the most unlikely supporters for a common cause.

And now, dear readers, please do bear with my explosion about the tests of the Border-Gavaskar series of 2020-21.

When I picked up the cable-on wifi device that streamed the sports network, never in my wildest dreams did I think a test match could have me awake at 5 am for 8 hours of my day. But that’s what happened – after the fiasco at Adelaide, and with the departure of Captain Kohli, while the rest of the cricket pundits and people who actually understood the game were writing off team India, I was hopeful for a better series. I had long admired stand-in captain Rahane – having been able to follow his rise to prominence, I was looking forward to the way he brought back his team from the dark. Not the biggest Kohli-captain supporter (big fan of the player, undoubtedly), I looked forward to a calm approach to the Aussies. Rebuilding was a monumental task. No one had any expectations from this side even before the series, and after 36 all out with an Indian side at full force, it seemed that a whitewash was inevitable.

The three Boxing Day test matches (that started simultaneously) around the world saw me doing the unnatural thing of setting the alarm to wake up at an unnatural time while on holiday. But it was worth it. Every minute of it. From the sublime knock by the new captain on the block to the fighting spirit of one of India’s most talented all-rounders. But the highlight of that game for me was getting the number one Test batsmen in the world out for a total of 8 in two innings by the most talented off-spinner in the world. These battles between key match-ups made the game a whole lot more exciting. Ball after ball, I watched the kookaburra fly, and every second was exhilarating.

But that victory pales in comparison to the great escape we pulled off at the SCG. I still cannot wrap my head around it. Down at all levels, with some batting misfires in the first innings, we pulled ourselves together for a tight second innings. With some exceptional work by the ever trustworthy C Pujara, to the pace set by Pant, India seemed like they were back in the game. But in the end, it came down to old school Test cricket. With a shaky tail and Jadeja out of the equation, it fell upon, what we now consider household names, Vihari and Ashwin, to conquer 43 overs against arguably the best pace attack in the world. Every ball was painful for both of them. Every time they were struck on the ribs, I felt that pain on my side. Watching them bat for 4 hours with a hamstring injury and possible fractured ribs made me believe in the power of resilience and those important life lessons you see in articles and videos that are supposed to be right for you. How can you stand and face balls being bowled at a 145ks (for fun, that too) and not make a single mistake? With five fielders standing on the pitch, three adorned with the kangaroo protected helmets, waiting for you to hit the ball a little higher and dive in to take the catch, how do you bat close to 300 balls without the pressure breaking you? But that’s what it means to play in a team – you do what your team asks for you, you don’t take the easy way out, and you certainly don’t want to fail the billion people watching you. You genuinely ask not what your team can do for you but what you can do for your team. That sweet victory, when the shameful (and rightfully so) Australians agreed to the draw, was the goal that kept these two batting. This draw was more meaningful than a win – team India was running low on players, but the spark was alive. Acknowledging that it’s only January of 2021, this test will definitely be considered one of the best of the year.

<Stepping aside from this heartfelt commentary, what a power move it was for the ball to be skidding to the outfield, a very possible double to be made, and not to move and just stand there, waiting for the next ball? I can’t say I blame the excitable Aussies for chattering behind the stumps, but that doesn’t excuse them from making the comments they made. Nevertheless, it did explode in their face>  

And yes, the last test of this series. Before I cover some of my favorite parts of the game, it’s necessary to see how important this game will be to spark that interest in Test cricket for fans across the country. In a thrilling finale, we saw the rise of India’s next-generation, holding up the Injured Cricket Team against the full strength of the Australians. No one would have believed that five players would make their debut against Australia in Australia! In the last test, with two debutants and a pace attack leader whose experience spans just two tests, the odds were in the Australian’s favor. But the extenuating injury circumstances gave us a game to remember. With the fortress Gabba, untouched by an Australian loss for over 32 years, sieged by an unlikely Indian contingent, no one could have asked for a better end to an enthralling test series. With a 7^th wicket partnership that rivals the likes of Dhoni and Jadeja, a salvageable first innings brought down the Australians lead to just over 30. With a 5-fer from the leader of the pace attack and a total of 20 Australian wickets that game, the inexperienced bowling attack gave the batsmen a somewhat easier task, relative to what it could have been.

What. A. Scintillating. End.

With a classy 91 from the future Indian captain (in my opinion), a historic half-century in god knows how many balls from the modern Wall, and a T20 finish from a player who has been under scrutiny, this innings had it all. With Twitter exploding with superstitions of not moving till the game was over (in the last hour), fans of the game got to see the Australians lose at their fortress, and the timely camera angle capturing coach Justin Langer’s disappointment accentuated a historic win for Shastri’s ‘best ICT Test team in the history of the game.’

<Disappointed that we didn’t see him kick a trash can, but still 100% worth it>

That Tuesday started like any other but ended with India making history, and a win that, in my opinion, is as, if not more, important than a World Cup win for this country. This game has real emotion. This format lives up to its name – it tests every sinew of your body. It is not just your physical capability of playing for 8 hours a day for 5 days, but the trust that you have in your team mates, your responsibility as a player, and the respect you have for the game. It tests resilience, intent, and character (all words that I have now grown accustomed to).

I hope that more Indians grow accustomed to watching this format – it’s here to stay forever. With tournaments like T10s gaining popularity, cricket could lose its finesse. One cannot compare the endorphin rush of 2 hours to the love you feel for the game in the eight hours.

Cricket, Test Cricket helped me get through a difficult time in life – conquering a virtual ecosystem has been a mammoth task, but I found my niche.

Comment below what you thought of the series, your relationship with the game, or even what you got you through isolation!

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*This blog goes out to Taher, Armaan, Rohit, and Hitesh – for answering every doubt I had about a rule, to giving me tips on playing better. If nothing else, then waking up at 5 for a zoom call to watch the match and calling the night before an exam to make sure we watch at least 15 minutes together. This game has brought us closer, and I thank you all for it.