Grumble with Gaurav | Gaurav Kalra
Aakash Chopra likes to call himself the '245th Indian to represent India in Test cricket'. It is a statement of fact. But it is also a medal, a badge of honour. The aspiration to wear an India cap is spawned every second somewhere in this country. That dream is pursued with vigour and purity. So merely accomplishing it is an Everest. Fail or succeed, the cap is yours. For keeps. Forever. Vinod Kambli is Test cap number 198. And he has been spitting on it.
The cap attracts a magnetic awe and places the individual who wears it on a pedestal. He is beyond a skilled batsman or bowler. He is the gate-keeper of the tireless devotion of aspirants to the ambition of accomplishing their own number. The cap earns him a livelihood well after the playing days are over. He is awarded commentary deals, newspaper columns and coaching assignments. It gives him pride of place on a stage of wide-eyed admirers. But also burdens him with the onus of being upright and diligent. So when number so and so has the cap on, we believe, he does nothing other than his very best to deliver victory. Continue reading below
Of course, this is the talk of the naïve. The betrayals are only too well documented. Men entrusted to lead Indian cricket teams have sold off our trust; exposed as traitors, tarnished forever despite the legacy of monumental feats. But cricket is the obsession of a believer. It survived and flourished in India despite the onslaught of the thugs amongst it. And it survived only because we believed. We trusted. And we continue to trust.
Kambli's failure to grasp the import of the words he vomited is staggering. He wasn't a bystander. He was a participant. A journalist can have a gut-feel. A fan can be suspicious. That can be conjecture, juicy copy or a delicious dinner table conversation. But when Kambli, an owner of that treasured cap and an active participant in a significant moment, chooses to insinuate and allege, he better be sure. Or he better shut up.
The 1996 World Cup semi-final is painful memory for enough reasons already. For a team loaded with experience, intelligence and knowledge to misread a pitch as badly was border-line foolish. That team meeting was either casual or ill-informed. For administrators to host a game of such significance on an untested track was a mind-numbing risk. For spectators at the so called Mecca of Indian cricket to hurl bottles and set stands on fire when the world was watching was shameful. Kambli's tears that March evening made an instant connect with the disconsolate Indian fan. The other day they were callous and despicable despite the camera's well timed zoomed in close-up.
Yes, mistakes were made. But Vinod, we would like to believe they were just that: MISTAKES. NOT CRIMES. Unless, of course, you can convince us otherwise. We remember well the brutal assault on Manoj Prabhakar just earlier in the tournament when the same Sri Lankans chased 271 down with ridiculous ease. So we buy the logic of leaving the burden of taking India into the final on the shoulders of a batting line-up that answered to these names - Sidhu, Tendulkar, Manjrekar, Azharuddin, Kambli and Jadeja.
We can understand why an opposition line-up bristling with confidence in its ability to chase targets down needed to be pushed out of its comfort zone. Because we remember well that in 1996 not too many bowling attacks crossed swords with Jayasuriya, Kaluwitharana, Gurusinha, de Silva, Ranatunga, Tillakaratne and Mahanama and emerged unscathed. So while it didn't go to plan that day Vinod, there was a PLAN. Not a sinister design as you 'suspect' to trade a shot at World Cup glory for a big chunk of dirty dollars.
We are silly that way Vinod, because we believe. We believe the ball gripped for just that fraction of a second, forcing Azhar to lob a simple catch back to Dharmasena. We believe Tendulkar misjudged just how far the ball went on striking his thigh-pad to allow the keeper to whip the bails off. We believe Manjrekar simply didn't connect the sweep he intended to direct towards fine-leg. We believe Jadeja didn't have the skill to counter a wicked pitch and a canny left-armer bowling over the wicket. We even believed when you wept and begged Clive Lloyd to let you bat on. So you could attempt a miracle and get the 132 still needed with only Kumble and Prasad for company in the 16 overs left. We believed Vinod, because that is what we do.
So you owed us Vinod if for 15 years you have carried 'this burden in his heart'. You owed us that voluntary phone-call to the CBI when they were investigating match-fixing. You owed us more than mere suspicion and angst. Your valour now is misplaced. Your intentions are suspect. Our team lost that semi-final because it made some terrible choices. But until you can show us how, they didn't cheat our faith. Each of those men that day, yes even those who were later found to be compromised, were true to their cap that day. Shame on you Vinod Kambli for intruding the faith of us believers. Fifteen years ago you were a tragic hero. Today, your treachery is complete.
