Jhakas | Sanjay Jha
I read the morning papers with bemusement and a sense of deja vu. The headlines yelled at you at their screeching best; MS Dhoni and Virendra Sehwag, India's famous captain and his equally well-known deputy were apparently at serious loggerheads, ready to get into a bloody bull-fight just before the unanimously-rated favorite team for retaining it's champion status in T20 World Cup would run onto the field.
That is the kind of delectable delicacy that even the former chic Chutney Mary would have been proud to serve as a Sunday fine-dining experience. Except that this was the Indian cricket media contingent reading into a conspiracy theory and much more from Dhoni's subtly nuanced one-liners, and generally noncommittal responses on Sehwag's injury and the consequent options for the opening batting slot. In a dramatic flash, they have found lightning fast breaking news flying fast over the Mediterranean sea into their self-inflated , delusional might situated on DN Road and elsewhere ( it is usually a chorus). Only a day later, they have had English doubly fry omelet , with or without potato wedges and bacon strips thrown onto their faces. Continue reading below
Of course, it is highly possible that the occasionally brusque Jharkhandi and the mild-mannered , but normally self-contained Najafgarhi may have had some misunderstandings; sure, that can be in the realm of reasonable probability. Big egos, career status, commercial stakes, excess familiarity, and pure pressure of being under 24x7 media scrutiny and public gaze can drive even the die-hard cool dude into a psychiatric ward.
But surely that does not call for "investigative journalism" bordering on such type-cast methods such as " sources" and " a team member on condition of anonymity" balderdash. Player differences are a normal occurrence; by the way, when have you last heard one media critic gleefully praise another? Yet, the maddening obsession for perpetual news-hunt is driving some of our fourth estate brethren in the cool climes of London into pre-menstrual stress mode.
A famous ex-Indian cricketer, recently retired, once told me; " Sometimes I wonder if the Indian media really wants India to win. On the contrary, I believe they want us to lose, so that they have a lot of speculative gossip to report, some dirty linen to dry-clean, and a lot of crappy unsolicited advice to provide". Ladies and gentlemen, I thought he had truly hit the bull's eye or bowled a truly masterful googly.
Just check the recent track-record ; in the last couple of years, Indian cricket has seen an incredible ascendancy in multiple -formats, and Dhoni's team has been a virtual revelation. Indian cricket's winning spree has defied conventional statistical models, and made the law of averages appear like an anachronistic forecast, deserving instant review and perhaps being repealed altogether. In an era of unchained heady success, the poor correspondents under severe HQ pressure for some meaty loaf, have hardly had any opportunity for professional skullduggery or a crafted witch-hunt. In the recent Dhoni-Sehwag rumors, their desperation shows. Dhoni has given them a resounding hard thappad (slap), but they are so unusually dense, they missed his biting sarcasm. Or the stinging palm-to-cheek contact.
By parading a united Indian team and giving them a signed hand-written statement in a press conference, Dhoni answered the cheesy soap and bubble reporting of our cricket "intelligentsia" ( hah!) with a typical Bollywood-inspired cinematic flourish. The "dramatic" irony was palpable thousands of miles away, but our poor hacks in England are still confounded and nonplussed by Dhoni's unprecedented act. Essentially Dhoni and his boys are sending a clear message, guys; "if you write a hackneyed script, we will give you an equally trite show" . Take a bow, Dhoni and boys.
I also think that the Indian media is secretly smarting from being completely over-shadowed and singularly sidelined by some narcissistic blogger suffering from his own pathological delusions of grandeur. It is bad enough that they feel beaten by a fake identity. It is worse being just a shadow of it.
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