Oh Kolkata

GH on the twenty-fifth anniversary

Today marks a quarter century since the climax of a candidate for the greatest Test match of all time: the grand turnabout of Eden Gardens 2001. The anniversary, not surprisingly, is being honoured in India, with some excellent pieces from Saumyajit Basu and Sarthak Dev among others, and interviews with VVS Laxman and John Buchanan. Because it seems to have slipped past us here - wither because Australia finished second or thanks to the general recess of Test cricket - I’m republishing this commemorative essay from my collection Indian Summers. Enjoy the highlights!

The note left with the concierge of Kolkata’s Taj Bengal Hotel on the night of Monday 12 March 2001 bore the signatures of ‘Vinay’, ‘Mahmud’ and ‘Sanchayita’, and was addressed to ‘our cricket team’. When it was duly conveyed to him, coach John Wright felt a mix of admiration and chagrin. ‘You guys can still win this match,’ read the message. ‘We believe in you.’ Indian fans, eh? Who could doubt their faith? But their logic – well, reflected Wright, there was none in evidence here.

As the match stood after two days, India were 8/128 chasing Australia’s 445, seemingly en route to a consecutive three-day defeat which would cost them a series, a trophy and respect. If only his players displayed such conviction, Wright reflected, before slipping into a restless sleep, helped by four cans of Heineken and five cigarettes. India’s first foreign-born coach wondered if his tenure might already be over.

For it was not just the Test the note seemed to defy, but the whole tilt of cricket. Since the World Cup of 1999 had concluded in damp misery, the Indian game had been in upheaval. A captain and his deputy, Mohammed Azharuddin and Ajay Jadeja, had been enswirled in the fug of corruption. Sachin Tendulkar had been anointed as successor, but had been unable to provide other than his usual solo excellence. He had been succeeded by Sourav Ganguly, symbolising the steady rise of the game in Bengal since the administrative ascendancy of the local potentate Jagmohan Dalmiya. But a shoulder injury had then incapacitated the linchpin of India’s attack, Anil Kumble, while no wicketkeeper had made himself a fixture since Kiran More.

Then there had been the role of coach, held for an unhappy year by Kapil Dev. The appointment of the low-key Wright reflected the desire for a clean break. While coaching Kent in England’s County Championship, he had made the acquaintance of Ganguly and his deputy Rahul Dravid. They warmed to his easy-going ways, and their say-so had helped sway an appointment panel. But he found a team that while replete with talent was hidebound in its practices, unfit, unfocused and without the most basic equipment: the kit consisted of three stumps, three baseball mitts and thirty cones. Administration and selection were politicised, intrigue routine.

The visit of the Australians set pulses racing. They had bossed Test cricket for six years, secured the World Cup, virtually owned the Ashes, and overwhelmed India three times at the countries’ last encounter, part of a victory streak that on their arrival extended fifteen Test matches. There was an asterisk against their status: thanks partly to relatively infrequent visits, they had not won a Test series in India since 1969. But they meant business. Their captain, Steve Waugh, who unlike predecessors was stimulated by the challenges of the subcontinent, had taken to calling the country ‘the Final Frontier’. When Wright dropped in on their training sessions at Brabourne Stadium, he was awed by its vigour and purpose. He drove his own players harder – as hard as some had been driven. They responded well, but deficiencies were hardly difficult to spot.

The media, seldom less than excited about a cricket visitor, were strung up to concert pitch. A new twenty-four-hour news channel called Aaj Tak (Till Today), the first of its kind, was to pioneer a new approach to cricket, covering it almost as current affairs. Aaj Tak’s news cycle was punctuated with cricket updates and reviews, plus a text graphic of the live score at all times, while its nightly show Who Will Become the World Champion? positioned the Tests as a battle for world supremacy.