Jayaditya Gupta

The Sharad Pawar-led BCCI has some tough decisions ahead of it © AFP

After more than four months of acting coy, the Indian Cricket League (ICL) has made as bold a statement as possible, parading the 48 Indian cricketers and naming the six overseas players who will form the backbone of its inaugural season. It is as much a statement of intent as a challenge to the Indian board, with which it has been shadow-boxing since the gauntlet was first thrown in April.

The matter is now out in the open; the ICL is an entity the BCCI - nor, indeed, the ICC, which is yet to take a clear stand - cannot wish away. It is faced with a situation it must deal with, and swiftly. It must size up the pros and cons of its current hard line with one eye on the longer term, something it is not always adept at doing. Conventional wisdom says it will not shift from that stand yet this may be the time for some unconventional thinking.

At stake is not just the future of 48 Indian cricketers, though that is weighty enough; an entire domestic season could be held hostage to the simmering feud. Four top Ranji sides - Bengal, Tamil Nadu, Punjab and Hyderabad - have each lost at least half a dozen players, some of whom have the potential to go beyond domestic cricket. More will join the new league, because it still needs another 40-odd players to make up the numbers. If all these players are subsequently unable to play domestic cricket in India, the effect could be crippling.

And that will be the BCCI's greatest challenge: Playing out its role as the custodian of all Indian cricket and ignoring its more natural instinct to protect a smaller piece of turf, precisely the attitude that has given the ICL enough fertile ground to sow the seeds of secession.

If you want one reason why the ICL exists today, here it is: The BCCI is a monopolistic institution that has not modernised and has, till very recently, focused its attentions on international cricket. The public was obsessed with the identity of stars who would or wouldn't, had or hadn't signed up with the league. However, not a thought was spared for those who keep the wheels of Indian cricket moving - the journeymen first-class players, the umpires, the scorers, the faceless people who perform thankless tasks so that, every season, a Karthik or a Sreesanth or a Chawla comes along.

There is no evidence at hand that the ICL will address the problems of these people. It is, after all, a stated commercial venture. But it has entered a vacuum created by the board's inability - unwillingness, even - to see cricket in terms of a sport to be nurtured and see it instead as a cash cow to be milked. This fight, stripped of all ideological posturing, may be about TV ratings and the advertising revenue they bring in but the ICL is likely to tap into the feelings of insecurity and neglect among those who live in the shadows, feelings that prompted the likes of Abhishek Jhunjhunwala, 24, one of the architects of Bengal's road to the Ranji final last season, to sign up and sign away his India cap.

All this invests in the ICL a greater responsibility to safeguard the future of those who have, as Kapil Dev emotionally put it, had the courage to take their own decisions. If the BCCI remains truculent and slaps the ban it has threatened, the ICL must ensure that the players - not exactly the cream of India but honest practitioners of the game - are not left in limbo. In other words, the Zee group, the ICL's parent company, must not pull the rug from under its feet if the whole venture stops making business sense.

Much of that, in turn, will depend on the quality of cricket the ICL will offer, and the jury is out on that. Suffice to say that few of the players named today are Twenty20 experts; most have made their name in longer versions of the game and some, like Inzamam-ul Haq, are patently unsuited to the whirlwind pace of cricket's newest avatar. The problem can be partially offset, though, by smart packaging, for which the presence on board of Tony Greig and Dean Jones will come in handy.

Yet if the ICL has to establish its credibility - and at the moment the meter reading is set to zero - it can only do so with credible cricket. In many ways the easy bit is over. It is one thing to sign up players, quite another to motivate them when they joined for the money. What will they play for: Pride? Nationality? Regional affiliation?

Today was a day when Indian cricket could have celebrated the emergence, in keeping with trends in other spheres, of a money-spinning league promising more opportunities for its players. Instead there is concern over how it will impact the game in India. The problem is largely of the BCCI's own making; so, too, can be the solution.

Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Dravid has used the experience of team-mates like Ganguly well, but there's no denying he needs someone to share the burden of leadership on a more consistent basis © AFP

"Undefeated after Chappell," bellowed a hack shortly after India's historic series win at The Oval. Following Greg Chappell's exit after the World Cup debacle, India have won two Test series - one of them admittedly against Bangladesh - and six one-dayers. A solitary defeat against South Africa in the first match of the Future Cup remains the only blemish.

Victory no doubt brings its own aura, but this India side looks like a team. The "divisive" senior players are nowhere in sight. What instead has been on view is camaraderie and a unity of purpose. It is early still to pass judgment on the coaching abilities of Venkatesh Prasad and Robin Singh, but it can be said that they have been matey, almost soothing figures compared to Chappell who was strong and dominating. There is a relaxed and open air to the dressing room now.

Both Prasad and Robin were part of the team until a few years ago. Both played under Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Gangly and have immediately caught the pulse of the team. Both, players feel, know the extent to which they can push each cricketer and understand the pressures of playing for India. The bowlers' workloads were carefully handled in the series so far - India, remember, had only three frontline seamers and couldn't afford injuries to any. Greg King, the trainer, has gelled well with Prasad and Robin, while the venerable Chandu Borde, the manager, has chipped in with the odd piece of advice.

When he was standing at mid-off to the fast bowlers, Rahul Dravid had sounding boards in different parts of the field. Ganguly has been relied upon to assess pitches. Tendulkar, the vice-captain; Ganguly, the former captain; and VVS Laxman, the man who might have made a good captain, have chirped away in the slips. Anil Kumble, who has been strangely forgotten in the captaincy debates, has voiced his thoughts from gully. Dravid hasn't wasted the wealth of experience around him; he has solicited advice and weighed up options.

What happens in a couple of years' time, when India may have to do without five of their big guns? Don't they need someone who can get the next generation up to speed?

Insiders admit it has been a while since they saw the older players so chipper. Throughout the last year the seniors in the side were divided over Chappell, but his exit has had a healing effect.

Youngsters have been carried along. Not only have the senior players weighed in with their performances, they have also taken up mentoring roles. Dinesh Karthik has spent evenings with Tendulkar, the "greatest cricketer" he has seen; Sreesanth, overawed on the first morning at Lord's, has been "inspired" by Ganguly.

Inevitably this has prompted the question: do India really need a coach? Does any international team? The longer India's winning sequence lasts - and they start favourites for the seven-match one-day series against England - the louder will be the calls to stay without one. There is a view that the current set-up could deliver consistent success, and that an outsider coming in would mess up plans - which is a different tune from the one the players seemed to be unanimously singing a couple of months ago.

Current success will back up the argument, but the immediate present should not be allowed to obscure the big picture. While it will be tempting to maintain the status quo, the recent run of success won't have changed a few ground realities. The Indian administration and the team will do well to ask themselves a few questions.

Are India completely aware of the requirements of the modern game? Do they possess the creativity and vision needed to build a team for the future? Does the captain need someone to share his burden with? Do the current coaches need someone to guide them along?

Having been part of the team, Venkatesh Prasad knows the pressures of playing for India. He also knows how much he can push each of his bowlers © Getty Images

It's one thing to bask in the present but one needs to keep an eye on the future. A relaxed atmosphere is important but is there a risk of it getting too relaxed? Also, what happens in a couple of years' time, when India may have to do without five of their big guns? Don't they need someone who can get the next generation up to speed? Where does one look for leadership then?

Dravid himself, as ever, takes the measured view. "We've had some good success on this tour, but it will be too simplistic to say it's because we haven't had [a coach]," he said. "There are other factors that have gone into us playing well. You can't just focus on the coach.

"Sometimes you're in the team and looking at it from one perspective. People from outside can look at a team and see the direction it's going in. They must provide some intelligence and input as well."

India likely don't need another Chappell, who thought rocking the boat was the best way to steady it. But they perhaps need another John Wright. A quiet back-room worker, in tune with the requirements of modern game, strongly wedded to work ethic, who can be both friend and guide. Cricket will remain a game where the captain is the central figure, but the pressures of the modern game require him to have a sounding board, and someone to share the responsibilities and the attention. Particularly when things are not going well.

The captain knows what he expects of his bowlers, the bowling coach knows what they're capable of. RP Singh shouldn't need to go to Leicestershire to find out what his technical faults are; the problem should be diagnosed back home. A technically sound head coach to liaise between the two would serve the purpose. The position must be filled by a professional who prefers not to be seen but is a trusted man-manager. He needs to understand the players, yet crack the
whip. It's hard to say if there is anyone who meets all these requirements, but if he does exist, India need to grab him. The earlier the better.

Jayaditya Gupta

The BCCI's chief objection to the ICL is that television programming is involved, which means the league treads on the board's turf © AFP

The chatter is louder than Matt Prior in full flow: Brian Lara is on board, Shane Warne has expressed his desire to jump on and is that Glenn McGrath in the distance? There's a possibility that these three, and other stars, will play Twenty20 cricket - itself a novelty - in India as part of the Indian Cricket League (ICL). Though all three have retired from international cricket, Warne is active on the county circuit, Lara looks to have gas in his tank still, and anyone who saw McGrath bowl in his last international match, the World Cup final, would find it hard to believe that he has reached pensionable age.

That's only half the story; the other half is the ICL's running battle with the Board for Control of Cricket in India, aka the Bureaucratic Custodians of Cricket in self-Interest. The BCCI has rejected the idea of the ICL and has asked everyone it has control over - which is pretty much the entire cricket establishment, home and away - to steer clear. Or else.

The board's proprietary stand over cricket in India is, at the very least, at odds with ground realities. The farcical way it runs the national team is well known; less documented, though perhaps more damaging, is how it runs all other levels of cricket in the country. And all other aspects, from umpires to ground scheduling.

The board's objection has little to do with the ICL being a privately run league. There are hundreds of those in India; among the most famous are Mumbai's Times League and Kanga League, which have coexisted with the official system for years, functioning as finishing schools for some of Mumbai's best players, and hugely benefiting Indian cricket. The key difference between those and the ICL is this: the ICL involves television programming, and so treads directly on the BCCI's turf. All else flows from there.

The ICL will be based on the Twenty20 game, the least developed of cricket's three formats in India. The first edition of the BCCI's own Twenty20 tournament sank without a trace, shunted to the end of the domestic calendar last season, when it was in direct competition to the World Cup in the Caribbean. Few recall who won, fewer still care. Least of all, apparently, the BCCI itself: India's provisional squad for the Twenty20 World Championship in South Africa later this year has precisely three representatives from the two domestic finalist teams. That's three among 30 players, and it's anyone's guess if any will make the final cut.

The board can outsource the administration of Twenty20 cricket to the ICL, and let the new league throw up a pool of players who can be cherry-picked for the national team. Unlike the established players, they will have specialised in the shortest version of the game

The BCCI has never been hot on nurturing a system; the rise of one-day cricket in India - even the World Cup victory 24 years ago - has been more by accident than design. By embracing the ICL, the board can feed off a system that is already in place and is effectively someone else's headache. This way, it can focus on its core competence - making money.

Over in the West Indies, the umbrella cricket board has, after a year's resistance, bought into Allen Stanford's vision for cricket in the region. Last year the West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) stymied the grand finale of the Stanford 20/20 tournament, an all-stars game between the best of the West Indians and a South African side for a $5million purse. Stanford bit his lip and tried again, and the upshot is that the next season has the WICB on board, Cricket Australia and Cricket South Africa interested, and the ICC worried.

The ICL's biggest problem currently is the lack of a venue, with the BCCI leaning heavily on those who own stadiums, at home or abroad, to close all doors to the rebels or risk losing India matches. But the ICL can well flex its own muscles and simply make the down payment on a ten-year lease. Money is not the problem now, and the suits at the BCCI are amateurs against the industrial strength of the Zee group, the ICL's backers.

The ICL has a role model in Allen Stanford, who has his own ground in Antigua © Neil Manthorp

Zee can learn from Stanford here. If the BCCI continues to hold out and play the neighbourhood bully, the ICL, which has already tied up with a leading infrastructure development company, could simply build its own workspace. Stanford's complex, near the airport in Antigua, includes a cricket ground, banks, restaurants, a health club with swimming pool, gym, and aerobics studios; a hotel and conference centre are in the works.

In fact, there is a precedent closer home, in the form of the Sahara group, which has built a plush mini-city in the forbidding rocky hills near Pune in western India, and then attracted a host of big names in sport - Daley Thompson, Anna Kournikova, Boris Becker, Nadia Comaneci and Edwin Moses among them - as brand ambassadors.

Other problems, including hiring players, can be dealt with similarly. The BCCI could yet be hoisted by its own petard: its failure to invest in a cricketing culture, and the resulting lack of viable opportunities for former cricketers, could make any option seem attractive. The carrot of a pension when they eventually retire - approximately Rs 35,000 a month - will not mean as much to a Ganguly or a Laxman as the chance of playing with some big names.

That it should come down to this zero-sum game is a pity. Indian cricket is big enough for two players, or 20, or 200, and it would help if they were pulling in the same direction. Instead of cutting its nose off to spite its face, the BCCI should wake up and smell the coffee - and the opportunity.

With Ford out of the picture, will the board turn to Emburey? © Getty Images

Dileep Premachandran

Another day, another crisis, and as you were for the BCCI. Just two days ago, the seven-man committee empowered with choosing India's next cricket coach assumed that they had got their man. Graham Ford had flown down to Chennai - along with John Emburey, a dummy candidate in all but name - and his presentation had convinced the wise men to offer him a one-year
contract.

On the face of it, the BCCI and the Indian players, Rahul Dravid in particular, would have cause to feel let down because, according to information available to Cricinfo, Ford had almost accepted the job. It was merely a question of when and not if. He was aware that the offer was for one year, with a provision for a two-year extension, and that he would have to work with existing support staff that included Venkatesh Prasad and Robin Singh.

Somewhere along the line, he changed his mind. Several conjectures have been made as to why he did so; the briefness of the tenure, maybe, or he was unhappy with what he saw. Personal reasons have also been mentioned. His wife, Liz, has battled cancer for several years and it's understandable if he had second thoughts about taking on the stresses and strains of a job in the subcontinent.

But it certainly does not absolve the BCCI of its responsibility. The fiasco has merely highlighted the board's ineptitude in finding the right man for the job. India were sent packing from the World Cup long before the April-fool jokes were sent out, yet no serious attempt was made to draw up a shortlist of replacements for Greg Chappell.

Even as Ravi Shastri was appointed caretaker coach for the tour of Bangladesh, the whispers behind the scenes kept throwing up one name - Dav Whatmore. In addition to an impressive resume, Whatmore had revealed his interest in the job and, when certain top BCCI officials spoke to him in Dhaka, it appeared a done deal.

When it comes to Indian cricket, though, you should never believe what you see or read. Yesterday's flavour became today's bitter aftertaste as Whatmore's name was cut from the list of probables a week ago. Influential folk within the team, and on the seven-man committee appointed to choose the coach, were said to be against him and it was thus that Ford moved
into pole position.

What followed illustrated just how low Indian cricket's stock has fallen. To create the illusion of a contest for a job that had once interested so many, the board roped in Emburey, a man with no coaching credentials to speak of. If anything, it was a slap in the face of the homegrown
candidates. Had there been a viable second option - Tom Moody and Desmond Haynes were in contention when Chappell got the job - the BCCI could have turned to him after Ford's rebuff.

By not advertising for the post or sending out feelers as soon as Chappell left for Australia, the board seriously overestimated its own hand. The promise of a big fat payday may lure those more mercenary but a top-level coach requires all sorts of assurances before taking up a job of
such magnitude. Freedom to choose one's own support staff and the autonomy to chart out a long-term plan - in consultation with the captain - are of paramount importance to the best in the business, as is involvement at some level in team selection.

It's also worth noting that the last two Indian coaches were chosen by the players. Rahul Dravid was instrumental in John Wright's arrival from Kent, and Sourav Ganguly played a pivotal role in Chappell being appointed. It's no secret that the move to bring in Ford also had the blessing of the team's seniors. Whether that's a healthy trend is debatable, since part of the coach's job description undoubtedly involves tough love when the team is going astray.

What are the options now? As Sunil Gavaskar, one of the members on the committee that offered Ford the job, has said, the board is back where it started. Squads will be selected on Tuesday to tour Ireland and England and there is no time to find a coach to accompany the team. Will they find one before more serious business, India's Test series against England, begins?

For a start, do they even know where to look? This is an embarrassment that the BCCI has brought upon itself.

A 37th Test hundred for Tendulkar but at what price? © Getty Images

Sachin Tendulkar's recent failures to dominate average attacks are often exaggerated by the weight of his reputation: a slow, passive century from Tendulkar would still be a solid knock by someone else, it is said. There must be truth to it but the manner in which he crawled to a century today has left even that argument open to doubt. Today's was a solid, honest Test century - for a debutant, not for someone playing his 137th Test.

Coming in at 281 for 0, Tendulkar never looked like he was batting in a side pushing for a declaration on a flat wicket where their bowlers would need the maximum time to get 20 wickets. He ended up with an unbeaten 122 off 226 balls, his strike-rate faster than only Sourav Ganguly among Indian batsmen.

What does one expect of a No. 4 walking in at 281 for 0, when the team know they will have to bowl on a flat wicket in extremely tough conditions? Tendulkar has, not unfairly, been put in the same bracket as Ricky Ponting and Brian Lara over his career but surely neither would have scored at a strike-rate of 53.98 in a similar situation? A strike-rate that only increased after what appeared to be a clear message to hurry up, during the tea interval? As the table below shows, Tendulkar faced nearly half the total deliveries bowled while he was out in the middle but scored only 40% of the runs, which is hardly what you'd expect from the leading batsman in the team.

The contrast is stark when his contributions are compared to those of his partners: both Dravid and Karthik scored far more runs than Tendulkar, though Tendulkar faced more than half the deliveries during each stand. His approach when batting with Karthik was particularly perplexing; Tendulkar was already on 49 when Karthik came in, yet he scored at a niggardly 2.87 runs per over in that second-wicket stand, even as Karthik scored nearly two runs more per over.

Ganguly's arrival should have forced Tendulkar to take charge. Instead, he seemed more intent on ensuring that a 37th Test hundred didn't elude him - Tendulkar was on 83 when Ganguly came, and the get-your-century-at-any-cost attitude meant he used up 42 deliveries to go from 80 to 100. In fact, his second 50 runs took four balls more - 102 - than his first. (Karthik, on the other hand, scored his last 107 runs in 128 balls, while Dravid's second fifty took 68.) Only after getting to the hundred did Tendulkar step it up, getting his last 22 off 26 balls.

That Tendulkar was not really comfortable was evident yesterday too. He had ended the first day with nine from 31 balls: surely he wasn't playing for stumps for the last 13 overs of the day?

There is more to it than the numbers, though - and that's the worrying part. A show of intent was missed probably as much as the ability to take control of the game and demoralise the bowlers. It has become a cliché to say how painful it is to see Tendulkar scratch around for runs against bowlers who are good but not exceptional but, on today's evidence, it still stands true.

Mashrafe Mortaza kept coming at him with manful short-pitched stuff, because he saw Tendulkar was not comfortable handling it. Even yesterday, he had played at and narrowly escaped tickling the first delivery with the new ball. At times, he ducked too early; on occasions, he took his eye off the ball while swaying away. During the opening spell of the day, he kept Mortaza especially interested. Hook shots weren't even contemplated, it seemed. He scored 19 off 52 Mortaza deliveries. It could have been any other batsman.

Mohammad Rafique was not given any opportunity to disbelieve that Tendulkar has history against left-arm spinners. Twice, after Tendulkar had passed fifty, Rafique did him with classical stuff, not the stifling kind. At 52, he edged one past the non-existent slip for four. The next one Tendulkar, well set, did not have a clue about. He was 72 when one pitched on the middle stump and took his outside edge. Rafique was not even required to adopt the defensive approach of bowling over the wicket.

Tendulkar couldn't improvise and play a scoring shot when deceived by the slowness of the wicket. Not long ago, you'd describe him as a batsman who had two shots for every ball; here he was struggling to do anything more than nudge it to leg. Thirty-seven of his runs - including 19 singles and five twos - came behind square on the leg side. On the other hand, only 18 of his runs were scored in the covers, with just one four.
It just doesn't seem possible that the team plan required Tendulkar to play anchor, after having racked up such a large total without losing a wicket and especially as Rahul Dravid also asserted himself on the game. If it was, it was a flawed one. That they got quick wickets towards the end of the day's play should not change things; it remains that the wicket was not doing anything while Tendulkar batted.

The wicket was slow, the weather conditions were tough, no more. But Dravid, Dinesh Karthik and Wasim Jaffer all accelerated in the latter parts of their innings. For Tendulkar, the acceleration came only after the century. It was all the more painful to see him make the conditions and bowling look more difficult than they probably were.

Worryingly for India, Tendulkar has been batting in this perplexing, defensive mode more often recently, and has done so for successive Test hundreds on this tour: the numbers were similar for his century in the previous match, at Chittagong - 75 balls for his first 50, 92 for his next; 62 runs in the arc from fine leg to midwicket, including 38 singles. Just like the pace of his hundred didn't matter at Chittagong, it might not make a difference here if the weather stays clear and Bangladesh continue to crumble. Against England later this summer, though, the runs he scores - and the rate he gets them at - could matter a whole lot more.

by Sambit Bal

The decision to retain Rahul Dravid as captain is a mature one, not swayed by the immediacy of defeat © AFP

Adversity is known to test character. It can provoke reactions ranging from panic and hysteria to composure and creativity. Over the past two days, the Board of Control for Cricket in India has shown itself to be schizophrenic. Its response to the recent decline of the Indian team ranged from the pragmatic and progressive to the shrill and slyly opportunistic.

It has taken a number of good decisions and made some right noises. By appointing Ravi Shastri as cricket manager, though it's not yet clear if can be persuaded to accept the job on a long-term basis, and splitting the coach's job, the BCCI has demonstrated its openness to flexible and creative thinking.

By retaining Rahul Dravid as captain, and also acceding to a number of his suggestions - appointing bowling and fielding coaches and creating the posts of professional administrative manager and media manager - the board has not only reposed faith in the captain, who is the best available choice at the moment, but also given him his desired personnel. It is a mature decision not swayed by the immediacy of defeat. It is a massive vote of confidence for Dravid.

And by deciding to send a young team to Bangladesh under Dravid, the board has not only shown a commitment to the future but also sent out a strong message to a bunch of players who were beginning to form a pressure group for all the wrong reasons. A certain staleness has crept in to the batting, with a few big players seeming more intent on self-preservation, and India have floundered repeatedly in conditions and situations where the Big Fish have been required to step up. Four of India's top-five batsmen are now nearing the end of their careers and the changeover has to be made now.

But the most seminal and far-reaching of all is the decision to scrap the zonal selection committee. Amateur selectors picked through the regional quota system have been among the most anachronistic and venal symbols of an organization that relies on power-broking and horse-trading. There is no guarantee that this will not be another hollow promise but it is for the first time that the board has made a written commitment to professionalise the system and that's a big step forward.

The measures announced to strengthen and revitalize domestic cricket appear to be superficial. Announcing that international players will play more domestic matches is one thing and creating the circumstances for them to be able to do so is another. The international calendar is already crammed, and in addition the Indian board has its own television deals that need fulfilling.

As for making lively pitches, it's an old commitment that has never been kept. Pitch committees have existed for years and have taken several token, half-baked measures but it is hard to believe that something will happen till it actually happens.

However, the board has also exploited the current circumstances - players are vulnerable and public opinion is that they are overpaid and underperforming - to protect its own commercial interests at the expense of the players.

As for making lively pitches, it's an old commitment that has never been kept and it is hard to believe that something will happen till it actually happens © Getty Images

The trigger for this crackdown is understood to be a clause that the board believes exists in the endorsement contract of a couple of batsmen linking their bonus to their stay in the crease.
If true, it is a serious transgression, and the matter must be investigated and culprits exposed. Rumours and innuendos will only hurt Indian cricket.

And to use this to impose the kind of restrictions the board is seeking to might be legally indefensible. It would run contrary to the spirit of free trade and would amount to exploitation of a monopoly organisation, not to speak of the widespread resentment it will create among the players. Since the board is not seeking to enforce this with retrospective effect, the players with existing contracts will not be affected while those on the rise will.

To argue that players are distracted from the game by their commitment to advertisers is slightly specious because the most successful players happen to be those with the most contracts.

The board's motives are obvious. It is keen to protect the interest of its own sponsors. Many of the current Indian players endorse Reebok and Adidas to the discomfort of Nike, who have paid a handsome amount for the apparel sponsorship of the national team. Most of the individual contracts pre-date the team contract and Nike signed the deal in full knowledge of this. Whether the players want to stay with their existing deals or accept a deal from the team's sponsor if it was offered to them should be their decision alone.

Without doubt, there is a case for moderation all around. The cricket economy is overheated at the moment and the Indian board is partly responsible for it. The players are not blameless either. But there's nothing that can't be sorted out across the table. The strong-arm tactics adopted by the BCCI at the moment feel like a low blow.

by Anand Vasu

It may yet be of symbolic value, but the BCCI's message to Sachin Tendulkar, the holiest of holy cows, will not be lost on anyone © AFP

Review meetings are meant to be eyewashes. Not much more than some token nip and tuck was expected of the two-day meeting of the Board of Control for Cricket in India to discuss its team's embarrasssing early return from the World Cup. What has emerged instead is a series of tough, some would even say harsh, measures aimed at reining in some of the game's biggest - and, in the eyes of the board, truant - superstars. The message to them is strong, and it has been delivered in the bluntest manner possible.

And amid it all there is a massive vote of confidence for Rahul Dravid. It may yet be of symbolic value, but the message to Sachin Tendulkar, the holiest of holy cows, will not be lost on anyone. By deciding to serve him a show cause notice for his interview to a leading newspaper,
in which he expressed his hurt over the coach questioning his attitude, the board has demonstrated that it is not willing to spare anyone. A similar notice has been issued to Yuvraj Singh, who went on record to say the players backed Sachin's stand.

To rub it in, the board has also announced that a team consisting of younger players will tour Bangladesh under Dravid, who has also been appointed captain for the next tour to England.

It might not say it in so many words but it is the strongest assertion of power from the board in recent times and a clear acknowledgement of the fact that it has taken serious note of the attitude of some senior players.

This is probably the most strident move by the board against the players since August 1989, when it banned six players - Dilip Vengsarkar, Kapil Dev, Ravi Shastri, Arun Lal, Mohammed Azharuddin and Kiran More - from playing international cricket for a period of one year after they participated in a series of unofficial matches in the USA. That came at a time when the players were talking about protecting their player rights and forming an association. The six players challenged the ban in the Supreme Court, which applied the Monopolies and Restrictive Trade Practices Act to rule in their favour.

Though it's farfetched to see the board actually banning or fining the two players they have issued noticed to, the board has backed the accent on youth that Dravid and Greg Chappell have been talking of for a while now.

There's a strong chance that several senior players will be rested, at least for the one-dayers, in the forthcoming tour of Bangladesh. This means that players like Manoj Tiwari and Rohit Sharma will get a chance to dislodge some of the established members of the team. Strong
performances could well ensure that they get a look-in when tougher tests confront India later in the year.

It's tough to say whether Dravid has got all he wanted. But one thing is clear: The players have got a strong signal - pull together, win matches, and you will be rewarded. The board will not stand by and watch wheels within wheels undermine the efforts of some members of the team.

by Anand Vasu

'What some players saw as a single-minded commitment to an ideology, others saw as a reflection of how inflexible Chappell was as a person, how fixed he was in his ideas and views, schoolmasterly in his approach' © Getty Images

When marriages end, even the happiest of them, they end badly. And this was never a happy marriage to begin with; in that sense, the circumstances of Greg Chappell's departure comes as no surprise.

Ever since Chappell won the coaching assignment some 23 months ago, armed with a vision he was picked for by a panel of eminent former Indian captains, controversy has dogged Indian cricket. He took over at a time when the Indian team was in a downward slide and it was assumed that his larger-than-life persona would not just arrest this slide but take Indian cricket to the next level.

However, for his way of thinking and working - distinct as it was from the Indian way, precisely the reason that he was hired - to have any effect, he needed the team, especially the senior group, to buy into his philosophy. That the team has not merely failed to go up to the next level but has come down a notch could have as much to do with this as it does with the assertion that Chappell failed as a man-manager and could not carry a group of diverse and difficult cricketers with him.

It didn't take a genius to work out that he would be the obvious scapegoat for India's failure at the World Cup. But it is mischievous to lay the blame for all ills squarely at his doorstep. "Team-spirit is a bit of an overrated word," Rahul Dravid once said in an interview, taking this writer by surprise. "When the team is winning the spirit is always good. When the spirit is good, the team wins, more often than not. But which comes first?" In this case the spirit, if at all present when Chappell took over, was considerably weakened.

Convinced that Indian cricket was strong enough, he was willing to plunge it into chaos for he believed that real clarity had a better chance of emerging from confusion rather than denial

And there came Chappell's first blind spot.

Convinced that Indian cricket was strong enough, he was willing to plunge it into chaos for he believed that real clarity had a better chance of emerging from confusion rather than denial. When he wrote that scathing six-page email to the BCCI on Ganguly, knowing full well it could be leaked, he precipitated a change of captaincy that was clearly needed - Indian cricket needed the coach and captain to reading from the same page, and that happened with Dravid's elevation. Yet it should escape no one's attention that he had put his job on the line in doing so, standing for the principles he believed in.

The transition was messy - private arguments became public wars - leaving Dravid with a poisoned chalice. Therein came what is seen as Chappell's second flaw, and ironically Dravid's greatest strength. For the two, some things were non-negotiable. They made it clear that players would pick themselves - not be artificially propped up by selectors or the team management - and, apart from just runs and wickets, factors like a constant urge to improve, a hunger to excel, to do things the right way, would play a part.

There were some players whom the two probably felt had slipped into a comfort zone, did not display these attributes, and got the axe. But their young replacements, who had the right attitude - the Suresh Rainas and VRV Singhs - simply did not do enough to validate the theory that doing the right things would bring the right results.

What some players saw as a single-minded commitment to an ideology, others saw as a reflection of how inflexible Chappell was as a person, how fixed he was in his ideas and views, schoolmasterly in his approach. Chappell could counter that by pointing to a group of cricketers who were unused to being told what to do, were left untouched in success and failure, and largely believed they already knew all they needed to about cricket. And it's no coincidence which group, the youngsters or the seniors, were doing the most complaining, even in private.

'Chappell pushed the players harder than they ever had been, physically and mentally, and some didn't take too kindly to this' © Getty Images

The flashpoint of Chappell's tempestuous tenure was the dropping of Ganguly, the premise of which was that a Ganguly free of the burden of captaincy would emerge a stronger batsman. This was proved right when Ganguly returned from 14 months in the wilderness, before which his batting had fallen away to the point that even his loyalists in the team had lost faith in it. With Ganguly away, India won a record 18 one-day chases, and it was only much later, after the youth policy caved in, that the "experimentation" failed, the "process" was summarily discarded and the old guard recalled for the World Cup, leaving Chappell's hands all but tied.

Chappell pushed the players harder than they ever had been, physically and mentally, and some didn't take too kindly to this. The players were also enraged by the fact that Chappell was talking about his apprehensions, in confidence, to a variety of journalists - something his friends constantly warned against - but the damage was done when these tales reached the players.

That Chappell repeatedly failed to learn from these incidents was a serious error in judgment and cannot be glossed over. But that the players should take such umbrage, and blame this alone for destroying the harmony of the dressing-room is laughable, for they are past masters at manipulating the media to achieve their purposes, as the most recent sordid episode amply demonstrated.

Chappell leaving is not a tragedy. Someone will take his place, Indian cricket, and life, will go on. It is sad, though, that that things hadn't worked out between Indian cricket and Chappell. When a relationship breaks down and a dream dies, what really hurts is the fact itself, not whose fault it was. Perhaps the sceptics were right all along - Indian cricket and Chappell were just not meant to be -but an honest person would admit that it couldn't have failed solely because of one man's flaws.

by Sambit Bal

Perhaps India was not ready for Chappell, or perhaps Chappell didn't have it him to coach India with all its complexities © Getty Images

One of the most tumultuous chapters in Indian cricket has come to an end with Greg Chappell ruling himself out of contention for the Indian coaching job. Perhaps he merely pre-empted the inevitable; it was difficult to see how he could have carried on. The differences between him and many of those whom he was to manage had become far too wide and far beyond healthy.

Passions are running too high at the moment to attempt an objective assessment of his tenure. Perhaps India was not ready for Chappell, or perhaps Chappell didn't have it him to coach India with all its complexities.

His letter has simplified the matter for the BCCI to a degree. It has removed one of the many inconvenient questions confronting the board. It should not, however, serve as a convenient escape route. Chappell had his faults but Indian cricket, and the cricketers in particular, would be living in delusion if they convince themselves that he was the problem. To comprehend the magnitude of the problem read S Rajesh's fine analysis of India's batting in recent times. Sanjay Manjrekar has pithily pointed out that Chappell held up a mirror to Indian cricket.

Chappell's final report shouldn't be dismissed as the rants of a bitter coach, because it's likely to contain some home truths. Not confronting the truth and not owning up would only keep Indian cricket in the comfort of darkness.

So what now? The sentiment is building up towards a homegrown coach. Even the players, who were so opposed to the idea a couple of years ago, are open it to now. Mohinder Amarnath's name has cropped up again, as has Sandeep Patil's. Some board members are even proposing the name of Sunil Gavaskar, who has so far kept himself away from contention.

Do India really need a coach in the traditional sense? In fact, is there a single definition for a cricket coach?

But nothing would be more disastrous than an Indian being appointed for the sake of it. It is fashionable among former players to speak mockingly of laptop coaches but no country can afford a coach lacking in contemporary thinking. A return to status quo would be a step
back to the dark ages.

Here's a thought, though: Do India really need a coach in the traditional sense? In fact, is there a single definition for a cricket coach?

Over the years, coaches have defined their own roles according to their own beliefs and abilities. Some focus on technicalities, some are theorists, some are man-managers and some believe in being facilitators. Bob Woolmer was one of the finest batting coaches, John Buchanan is a man of ideas and John Wright believed in creating the right environment for
his players. No single coach can ever hope to fulfill all the requirements of a modern cricket team.

Given that a foreign coach is bound come up against the system in India and get both frustrated with and hampered by it, why not consider appointing a team of specialists? Many countries are moving towards specialised coaches integrated into a unit. Troy Cooley worked wonders with the English bowlers, Jonty Rhodes is busy cranking up the fielding of the South African team yet another notch and Mike Young has done so with the Australians.

India need help in all three areas of the game. The batsmen have consistently struggled to come to terms with pace, bounce and swing. They have a young and impressionable pace bowling attack which is now led by Zaheer Khan, himself returning from a break, and no one needs help more urgently than Irfan Pathan. John Wright has often spoken about how much the pace bowlers benefited from the presence of Bruce Reid in their camp during their successful tour of Australia. And India are among the world's worst fielding sides, regularly conceding 20 to 30 runs in one-day cricket.

Money is not a concern and if the board is sincere about it, they can find the best professionals from the global pool of talent. This team can then work with a manager of stature and proven integrity, an Indian who can help them negotiate the system. Someone who can be both link and a shield. Someone tough and uncompromising. Someone who can relate to Indian players, who is above petty politics and regionalism, and wholly committed to the idea of winning.

Step forward Ravi Shastri.

Ian Chappell

To see senior players just going through the motions in the field would have been enough to send Greg off on a search for young players who could field © AFP

If there was any chance of Greg Chappell continuing his tenure as coach of India it probably disappeared when Bob Woolmer was murdered during the World Cup.

Such an ugly incident is sure to focus your concentration on life's priorities. As much as it would seem that Greg is probably better off without all the angst that comes with one of the most demanding jobs in cricket I doubt he'll feel completely fulfilled. A perfectionist, even
one who has mellowed, is never going to be happy with under-achieving on his expectations.

Greg's only rationale for playing cricket was to win. I can guarantee that, because we had the same tutor: our father Martin. Greg's approach in his latest role would have been exactly the same, to do everything he could to help India win.

Greg is a respectful person but there is no point in trying to be like an Indian when you've been employed because of your knowledge and experience as an Australian cricketer.

For example, in Sachin Tendulkar's recent comments he said: "No coach
had mentioned even in passing that my attitude was not correct."

As a cricketer Greg was always trying to better himself, especially his
mental approach to the game. Improvement doesn't come without constantly
challenging yourself and also responding to the demands of your
team-mates, something that happened regularly in the Australian team.
Having seen Tendulkar struggle in recent times Greg would accept it as
part of his job to challenge the him to resurrect his batting
in order to help India win matches.

There is no point in trying to be like an Indian when you've been employed because of your knowledge and experience as an Australian cricketer

That is not questioning a player's attitude, that is called striving for
improvement.

Greg was one of the best half a dozen all-round fieldsmen I've seen;
he's up there with Neil Harvey, Viv Richards, Mark Waugh, Mohammad
Azharuddin and Ricky Ponting and it would have grated that many of
India's best batsmen were slouches in the field.

To see senior players just going through the motions in the field would
have been enough to send Greg off on a search for young players who
could field. However, they would also have needed to be good at another
skill and hence his early push to get younger, more athletic cricketers
into the team.

The fact that his tenure as Indian coach was less than satisfactory for
both Greg and the team is probably a good indication that the system
producing young cricketers needs more than just a bit of fine tuning.
The day before he resigned, a "Kerry Packer'-style proposal was put
forward for Indian cricket, which suggests Greg isn't the only one who
thinks the system needs a large overhaul.

S Rajesh

'The best players like to measure themselves against the strongest opposition, and in Tendulkar's case the recent numbers don't stack up well at all' © Getty Images

While India's players blame their recent poor form on everything from a manipulative coach to a sense of insecurity to an indifferent captain, the plain truth is this: When it really mattered, India's batsmen failed to deliver. It's a fact that has been obscured by emotion, hype and selective memory but a reading of the statistics is revealing.

First, India's overall ODI record under Greg Chappell:

Played 62, won 32, lost 27. It's a fair record - more victories than defeats, a win-loss ratio (1.18) which is better than that achieved by West Indies (1), Pakistan (0.94) and England (0.65), and only marginally behind Sri Lanka (1.22).

Scratch the surface, though, and some disturbing trends emerge: India won 19 out of 28 matches at home - mostly in comfortable batting conditions - but only 13 out of 34 when they travelled overseas. The win-loss ratio of 0.68 is comfortably lower than Pakistan's and England's, and only marginally better than West Indies' 0.57.

That Indian batsmen flourish on the flat tracks of home is well documented, but the star-studded line-up had briefly demonstrated an ability to perform in more demanding conditions as well. That has all but disappeared in the last 21 months - the big names have appeared far too vulnerable to the merest hint of seam, swing or even spin.

The analysis below brings out how the runs scored by the Indian batsmen during this period has been a function of the conditions and the strength of the opposition, not of their own form, which comes and goes depending on the might of the bowlers.

For the purpose of the analysis, all the ODIs played by India during this period have been divided into two categories - the first comprises matches that were played in relatively batting-friendly conditions; and the second includes the games in which the bowlers had more say. The first category includes the following: all ODIs played in India except the Champions Trophy and the four ODIs versus South Africa in 2005-06, plus India's five-match series in Pakistan in the same season, and their World Cup game against Bermuda. These were games in which the bowling attack or the conditions or both allowed the bat to dominate. Not surprisingly, all the Indian batsmen except a couple have excellent records, with Mahendra Singh Dhoni's numbers reaching Bradmanesque proportions.

The story is entirely different, though, when the batsmen have been tested a little more. The next table includes matches which have been a bigger test for batsmen - the Videocon Cup in Zimbabwe, all matches in Sri Lanka, the DLF Cup in Malaysia, and the ODIs in South Africa in West Indies.

The batsman who was the most successful in these tougher games didn't even make it to the World Cup. Mohammad Kaif made unbeaten knocks of 102 and 93 against New Zealand in the Videocon Cup and was consistently among the runs in the West Indies in 2006, but a few failures thereafter pushed him out of the side. Apart from him and Yuvraj, none of the others averages even 30 in these games.

The differences in batting averages between the two tables shows just how much the batsmen have been found wanting when the team's needed someone to put his hand up. Dhoni's average drops by a whopping 73 runs, while even Dravid's and Tendulkar's performances have dropped by 50%.

All these numbers are of course masked when you merely look at the overall figures during this period: Dravid averages 39.82 in these 21 months, Tendulkar 40.16, Dhoni 46.13. They look like healthy numbers - and they are - till you delve deeper.

Tendulkar's overall stats look impressive, but check out his recent performances against the two best sides - apart from the 55 against South Africa at Centurion, he hasn't managed a single half-century in 11 innings. The best players always like to measure themselves against the strongest opposition, and in Tendulkar's case the recent numbers don't stack up well at all.

Through most of India's recent ODI travails, it's the less-heralded bowlers who have done well - only twice during this period have they conceded more than 300, while the average runs per over conceded is only 4.93. Twenty times they've restricted the opposition to less than five per over, but India have only managed to win 50% of those games.

The batsmen have always been the ones who've been feted after most of India's ODI triumphs. It's time they took the bulk of the blame for the losses too.

by Jayaditya Gupta

'For years the BCCI has steadfastly taken for granted the vast legions of footsoldiers of Indian cricket ... for years it has turned a blind eye to everything but the opportunity to make a quick buck; Now, it could be hoist on its own petard' © Getty Images

First, though, a note of cynicism: It's best to wait and see whether this is a genuine move by Chandra and his vast Essel group or a bargaining ploy by the man who lost out on the BCCI's TV rights three-odd years ago. Will Chandra go the distance or will he be open to adjustments if the right signals are sent out?

Chandra's move has been compared to what Kerry Packer did 30-odd years ago; the Packer analogies are tempting but first a quick recap of what the Australian tycoon did and why it was so revolutionary. Thirty years ago, world cricket - essentially Lord's and the MCG - was run by myopic, blinkered and hidebound men in suits who guarded their fiefdoms jealously. Packer saw the commercial opportunity in world cricket and sought to work within the system but when twice rebuffed forged the breakaway World Series of Cricket. It wasn't an instant success but it did eventually catch fire, thanks to the big names on his roster, some shrewd marketing and some TV innovations that were gimmicks then but are indispensable today.

Subhash Chandra is also a media baron, also a jilted suitor for TV rights despite making the best offer and is also up against a board that guards its turf zealously and which, given the discontent emanating from every corner of its territory, faces the prospect of the game going into complete disarray.

However, there are two key differences between then and now. Packer's gambit was fuelled almost solely by money, based on the absurdly low wages top international players were drawing at the time. His bait to players was simply an exponential increase - up to tenfold, in some cases - in whatever their boards were paying them.

That won't work in India, where the top players are famously well-paid. True, the current deadlock over the latest player contracts is over money - the share of TV revenue - but that is a relatively minor irritant. In any case players' endorsements - a bigger source of their earnings - is directly linked to their Team India status. That is the ultimate carrot the BCCI holds: The India cap, and what it means. It is the doorway to credibility - ask all those batsmen whose centuries in World Series Cricket added nothing to their career averages - and, equally, the only measure of success by the brand managers.

That lack of a lure may explain the second glaring difference: Chandra doesn't have a Name. Not a single Name as a player, not a single Name as an administrator or official in any capacity. Packer had several Names to begin with, and kept adding more once the ball was set rolling.

If the BCCI feels threatened, it may be stirred into action. If Chandra has held out his hand in genuine partnership, and if the BCCI accepts, Indian cricket can only get better. Which isn't saying much right now but every little bit helps

What Chandra needs is an evangelist, just as Ian Chappell and Tony Greig were to Packer, spreading the good word among their peers, their credibility substituting for Packer's relative lack of stature. If, for argument's sake, Sachin Tendulkar were to become brand ambassador for the Indian Cricket League, half of Chandra's work would be done. Of course, Chappell was a recently retired captain, and Chandra could soon have his pick of players with such a profile.

It might be easier for the ICL to tempt players from overseas; many of the top names are anyway familiar with the financial carrots that India offers, several have agents or representatives here and if it is a quick-fire, one-month affair, they might be strongly tempted to make some fast money. There is opportunity here for Inzamam-ul Haq, say, or Brian Lara or even Glenn McGrath.

Actually, there is opportunity there for Cricket Australia too (and the ECB, and every cricket board the BCCI has rubbed up the wrong way): It can use its hold on these cricketers as leverage in the constant (and often bitter) bargaining that the global cricket administration has become. Want us to block McGrath? No problem, but let's talk about hosting the next World Cup. Pietersen on the ICL list? We'll get him off, but meanwhile those B-list venues for our next tour...

And yet. And yet there is the possibility that, given the vast space that remains untapped in Indian cricket, Chandra can pull something off. For years the BCCI has steadfastly taken for granted the vast legions of footsoldiers of Indian cricket - the umpires, state players, stadium crowds, administrators, average fans; for years it has turned a blind eye to everything but the opportunity to make a quick (and very big) buck; for years, it has done nothing to look at cricket away from the bright lights of the one-day games. Now, it could be hoist on its own petard.

The trick, for Chandra, could be to think big by thinking small. Either small matches in big cities - a Twenty20 game in, say Bombay Gymkhana or Kolkata's CCFC, where one can relax with a glass of beer and watch the fun with PLUs, maybe even be part of the fun (this is the age of reality TV, and a cricket reality show on Chandra's Zee TV has already sent one player to Leicestershire). Or big matches in small towns, where Chandra's empire already has a strong media presence - a one-day game in, say Allahabad or Jalandhar or Bharuch, the sort of place where India's best young players now come from.

Would the fans buy it? That's a tough one; they are the world's most neglected cricket fans and have no love lost for the BCCI but are also notoriously star-conscious. Also, India's cricket culture is not participatory. Yet it's also true that they have never been wooed, made to feel important; if Chandra puts them at the centre of his nascent universe, who knows?

There are other options. In a larger context and in the longer run, India has to find a market for its cricket economy that will not expose the cricketers' shortcomings. Simply put, it means more cricket against the B teams or, more significantly, hijacking the offshore cricket concept. He could take the travelling circus overseas and trawl the NRI markets.

The trick, in any or all of this, is to have serious cricket. Ultimately, WSC succeeded because the players lived up to the hype; the big boys, as Imran so famously boasted, really did play at night. The two Richards were in sublime form and, along with the Chappells and sundry others, fought on level terms with the world's best fast bowlers at their peak. It was great cricket and made great viewing. If Chandra indeed lures Ganguly and Tendulkar to his side, he'd have to ensure they play a very different game to what they've been playing of late.

In all this, of course, there is opportunity for Indian cricket in general. After all, what Chandra is proposing is effectively what the BCCI should have been doing anyway -in terms of building both infrastructure and manpower. If the BCCI feels threatened, it may be stirred into action. If Chandra has held out his hand in genuine partnership, and if the BCCI accepts, Indian cricket can only get better. Which isn't saying much right now but every little bit helps.

The blame game has begun. Greg Chappell has called for a comprehensive review of the team's performance but already many fingers are pointing at him © Getty Images

Sambit Bal

As is the norm with botched-up jobs, India have returned from the West Indies with a bagful of questions. No two ways about it, the World Cup was an embarrassment for India. Not only did they lose to Bangladesh, who have since struggled to put the ball past the square, they never looked like winning against them. Say whatever you will about the format, India didn't look in shape, either mentally or physically, to go any further.

However, as is often the norm with Indian cricket, don't expect too many honest answers. India might get a new coach, perhaps even a new captain, a couple of players will be dropped and the team will travel to Bangladesh to redeem their honour. Trust some TV channel or newspaper to sell the series as the Revenge of the Blue Billion. It's quite likely that Indian cricket will learn nothing.

Failure is a perennial orphan. Don't expect a rush to own up responsibility. Of course many stories will emerge, but most of them will a point a finger at someone else. Greg Chappell has called for a comprehensive review of the team's performance but already many fingers are pointing at him.

Under normal circumstances, a cricket coach would bear only marginal responsibility for a team's failure. But Chappell has been no ordinary coach. He mounted an extraordinarily high-profile campaign to drag Indian cricket forward and his Mission 2007 became a significant signpost for Indian cricket. The blame for the mission's failure cannot be laid at his door alone but he will find himself facing some tough questions.

Questions are already filtering out to the media. Was he too authoritarian? Did he lack the human touch so vital for man-management? Did he have his finger on the pulse of players? Did he get obsessed with his ways and failed to explore any other way? Did he plant the seeds of unrest and mistrust within the team by his frequent slagging off of the players to the media? Did he create a sense of insecurity among a section of players that ultimately led them to play for their place in the side rather than for the team? And finally, did the team achieve the best it could have under him?

What of Rahul Dravid? Did he allow himself to be hijacked by Chappell? Did he lack authority and fire? Did he fail to inspire his teammates and forge a team that would fight together?

And the seniors? Were they aloof and self-absorbed? Were they so focused on protecting their own turf that they ended up stifling the junior players? Did some of them openly promote groupism and try to undermine Dravid? Did Dravid ever receive the kind of support he gave unflinchingly to captains who went before him?

These are all important questions that need to be asked when the review committee of the BCCI meets on April 6. But there are far more important, and deeper, issues without addressing which Indian cricket cannot move forward, and any progress the team makes can only be temporary.

Nothing about Indian domestic cricket could have equipped Sunil Gavaskar to withstand the most hostile pace bowling ever seen in cricket, or Sachin Tendulkar to score hundreds in Australia as a 18-year-old, or Rahul Dravid and Anil Kumble to be so damn tough mentally. They were exceptional as cricketers and men

The biggest question is why, despite the passion, the base and now the wealth, can't India produce a truly world-class team? Why do most Indian batsmen, despite the big averages, come unstuck on pitches that bounce and seam - and now even on those which spin? Why is the bench-strength so thin that they were forced to recall Sourav Ganguly? Why isn't there a single batsman in sight who can challenge for a place in the Indian middle order? And, shockingly, who after Anil Kumble?

Money can buy another coach. Players will line up to become the next captain. But Indian cricket will go nowhere as long as the system continues throwing up soft cricketers. India has produced great players, but that's been despite the system. Nothing about Indian domestic cricket could have equipped Sunil Gavaskar to withstand the most hostile pace bowling ever seen in cricket, or Sachin Tendulkar to score hundreds in Australia as a 18-year-old, or Rahul Dravid and Anil Kumble to be so damn tough mentally. They were exceptional as cricketers and men. Freaks, if you please. A country of one billion people who call cricket a religion shouldn't have to rely on freaks.

For about a couple of years India enjoyed an exceptional run when the batting stars converged as a happy coincidence. Virender Sehwag burst on to the scene and it was too early for bowlers to devise a plan for him, VVS Laxman peaked, Dravid became great, and Tendulkar crafted some big hundreds. And, with runs to back him, Kumble became the bowler that he rarely had the opportunity to be outside India. He tossed the ball up, varied his pace, and added to his repertoire.

But age has caught up with Tendulkar, Laxman's luminance has dulled, Sehwag finds himself batting the demons in the mind and his technical shortcomings, and India have nowhere to go. Call it cyclical but the truth is that India lacks a structure that produces players ready for the international challenge. The pitches are awful, competition scant, team selection is mired in politics and administrators are more focused on self-preservation than development. It would be a miracle if the cricketers who emerged from this structure remained untouched by it.

	The board has to objectively review if Chappell and Dravid went about rebuilding the team the right way. If they didn't, another way must be found. But it must point forward © AFP

When the wise men sit around the table in few days time, they must go beyond the surface. Change for the sake of change will not only be superficial but also counter productive.

Process has become a much abused word in light of India's recent travails and it is amusing to hear former cricketers evoke Indian cricket culture to knock foreign coaches. What culture? Revelling in individual glory? Being losers away from home? Being soft and unfit? Skills and artistry can take you only so far in modern sport, which is unforgiving of any weakness, either mental or physical. India have to become contemporary to be competitive and they have to realise that the transformation will not come overnight.

Progress was made under John Wright and Sourav Ganguly. But Chappell and Dravid came at a time when there was need to rebuild. Chappell's methods might not have been palatable to many, and that must be a factor while taking a decision on renewing his contract, but decision makers must guard against mixing up the issues with the personality.

Indian cricket needs a renewal. It needs to embrace new ideas, it needs fresh energy and fresh legs. It will not be without pain. It will require foresight, courage and the maturity to absorb losses in the short run for long-term gains. Indian cricket cannot be rebuilt with the objective of meeting marketing targets. If excellence is achieved all else will follow.

The wise men must examine objectively if Chappell and Dravid went about achieving this objective the right way. If they didn't, then another way must be found. But it must point forward. Returning to the old ways is not an option. Indian cricket needs a revolution. And it has to start at the bottom. And as for accountability, can we start at the very top please?

In the first phase of his ODI career, Anil Kumble was next to impossible to attack © Getty Images

Anand Vasu

It is said that the memory span of the average Indian fan is one week, perhaps less. In Anil Kumble's case, that may not be such a bad thing. The last ball he bowled in one-day cricket was a quintessential Kumble rocket. Bermuda's Malachi Jones stood stupefied - and better batsmen have suffered similarly - as the ball pitched in line, hurried inexorably on, and crashed into pad, trapping him plumb in front.

That's the kind of ball Kumble should be remembered by.

Kumble, who announced his retirement from the one-day game today, has not been India's first choice spinner for a while now. But the last few years of his career should not obscure the fact that he was once a one-day bowler who was next to impossible to attack - captains routinely bowled him inside the first fifteen overs when a fast bowler struggled, and then at death - and even harder to counter defensively. If you let him push you back, it was only a matter of time before he nailed you.

The 6 for 12 in the final of the Hero Cup should burn as brightly in mind as the torches that 100,000 Kolkatans held aloft at the Eden Gardens when India won. It should slip no one's attention that he was
the top wicket-taker in the 1996 World Cup, outperforming Shane Warne and Muttiah Muralitharan in the subcontinent.

Just statistically, the evidence is staggering. Till October 20, 2000, he had played 208 ODIs, picking up 274 wickets at an average of 28.56, conceding just 4.20 runs per over. Then, playing against Sri Lanka in Sharjah, he suffered a rotator cuff injury to his right shoulder.

Careers have been ended by lesser setbacks. There were suggestions then that he would never play international cricket again, and even if he did, that he would never be the bowler that he was. That's partially true.

Kumble spent 339 days in surgery, post-operative care, physiotherapy and rehabilitation, mentoring bowlers from the sidelines with one hand
in a sling, till he returned to action against South Africa at Johannesburg on
October 5, 2001. From then to now, in the unequal second half of Kumble's career, he has played 63 ODIs taking only a wicket a game, at an average of 41.03.

It's not surprising then, that Kumble has been in and out of the eleven since that setback. Through further aggravation of the injury, dips in performance or withdrawing himself from series, Kumble has missed an astounding 107 of the 170 matches India has played since
then. In that sense, it has been a career of two parts for Kumble. The second, with the unflattering ODI figures, is when he had all but lost his flipper. It was when the pace and zip had reduced just enough to take him from being lethal to merely threatening.

'Kumble re-invented himself, bowling slower through the air, tossing the ball up more, finding a subtler googly to go with his telegraphed one' © Getty Images

But Kumble the person, just like Kumble the bowler, is not the sort who gives up. He re-invented himself, bowling slower through the air, tossing the ball up more, finding a subtler googly to go with his telegraphed one - little finger pointing in the air like an antenna. He came round the wicket more. And all this worked magnificently in Test cricket. Happily, it coincided with a phase where India's batsmen were finally putting decent scores on the board overseas, which gave Kumble a chance to do his thing, and refute the charge that he was a home-track bully.

Michael Atherton wrote that there were times when he sensed that Curtly Ambrose, hisemesis, was going to bowl a yorker, and shaped to play accordingly, only to find that his off stump flattened anyway.

With Kumble at his best, it was much the same. Like some natural disasters, you could forecast and predict all you liked but, when the strike came, there was nothing to do but run for cover.

When he took all ten Pakistani wickets in an innings in that famous Delhi Test in 1999, the civic authorities in Bangalore promised to name a street after him; they settled for a traffic junction, calling it Anil Kumble Circle. Now, as he calls time on his one-day career, his achievements in the blue shirt should not be belittled just because he has achieved so much more in whites.

by Anand Vasu

'India's biggest problem at the moment is that they go into the World Cup with a squad that has several players who are decidedly undercooked' © Getty Images

When a team for a big tournament is announced with no surprises, it could be for a variety of reasons. Firstly there's the Australia situation, where a team has been winning consistently over a period of time, and wears a settled look, only needing tinkering when someone is injured. Then there's the Sri Lanka situation, where a team has sorted out its combination, has had plenty of time to test it, and believes it gives them the best chance of success. And finally there's the India situation, where there are simply no other viable choices. Now, this isn't the ideal position to be in, but that does not automatically mean that the team chosen is a bad one.

India's biggest problem at the moment is that they go into the World Cup with a squad that has several players who are decidedly undercooked. Yuvraj Singh, a proven matchwinner in one-dayers, had two international matches in three months. Irfan Pathan is in much the same boat. Munaf Patel is returning from an injury, and Virender Sehwag has spent too little time at the crease, through indifferent form and a forced break. But, having said that, a lot of this is because of the circumstances the team has been faced with, rather than any fault of the team management or the selectors.

Rahul Dravid had said earlier that there was little to do now for these players other than to make the most of the last two matches against Sri Lanka and then put in a lot of "hard nets." That's precisely what they must do, but whether it will be enough remains to be seen. The one thing in India's favour is that all these players are experienced enough, especially in one-day cricket, and have tasted plenty of success in the past, which means they know the road forward.

If you have to feel for someone who has missed the cut, it is Ramesh Powar, the Mumbai offspinner. He's had his opportunities through injury to one of India's premier spinners, and has, largely, grabbed them. With Anil Kumble no longer the ace ODI bowler that he once was - there was a time when it was next to impossible to score more than 40 runs off his 10 overs - and Harbhajan Singh growing into a restrictive option rather than a genuinely wicket-taking one, there was hope for Powar. For, even in the face of some heavy mauling, Powar has shown the nerve and ability to continue to toss the ball up, stick to his plans, and look for wickets.

The disappointing thing for Powar is that all that he's done simply has not been enough to displace one of the two main spinners. The selectors have gone for pedigree over pluck, and you can't fault them too much. The hope was that Powar would bring to the table some of the belligerent batting that he so routinely delivers in domestic cricket, and that his fitness and fielding would be lifted once he was in the Team India environment.

Despite his steely nerve, Ramesh Powar simply has not done enough to displace one of the two main spinners © Getty Images

While his fielding is nowhere near as bad as it is made out to be by some people who cannot look past his podgy build, his batting has contributed little in the chances he got. With Pathan going off the boil, there was a real chance for Powar to cement his place in the side as a bowler who could contribute with the bat - not in a floating position but certainly down the order - but that never happened.

The other person who will count himself unlucky, and will be missed in certain ways, is Suresh Raina. Not long ago, he was the next batting hope, one rung below Yuvraj and Mohammad Kaif, the second of whom seems all but finished, and today he finds himself left far behind. Dinesh Karthik fields like a tiger and has done a lot more with the bat, and raced ahead of Raina in the pecking order. Robin Uthappa brings that same fielding electricity to the mix and has been a massive hit with the bat. Still, even with all his failures with the bat, having Raina in the squad would not have been a bad thing, just for the manner in which he fields, but there simply is no space.

At one stage in the recent Rajkot one-dayer against Sri Lanka, the field, starting from Mahendra Singh Dhoni, the wicketkeeper, and working your way around anticlockwise, was as follows: Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly (slips), Kumble (third man), Karthik (point), Uthappa (cover), Munaf (mid-off), Dravid (mid-on), Harbhajan
(midwicket) and Sehwag (square leg). Of course, this looks especially dodgy because Yuvraj, Ajit Agarkar, Pathan and Zaheer Khan were missing through injury, but still, you can see the vast gap between the trio of Uthappa, Karthik, Yuvraj and the rest. So will teams like Australia, and India will be conceding a serious handicap in the field every single time.

There will be those who feel wronged: VVS Laxman has already made some comments about not having being given enough chances, Kaif supporters will be up in arms over a career in disarray, and Gautam Gambhir may have nursed some hopes. But, if you assembled a completely different set of five selectors, and they honestly picked 15, it would not be much different from this one.

by Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Shiny happy people - The smiles are back after a 3-1 win against West Indies © AFP

"When people score runs, it solves a lot of problems." Rahul Dravid's forthright assertion at the end of the opening game against West Indies at Nagpur summed up India's series, one which they began with several questions and ended with most answered. The margin of victory (3-1) conveys their dominance and it was mainly the shocking middle-order collapse at Chennai that prevented a clean sweep.

India returned from South Africa a destroyed one-day side and the home series offered a chance to get things back on track by finding answers to the various questions the team composition posed. We look at the crucial issues:

The openers: The opening combination was kaput - Sachin Tendulkar out of sorts, Virender Sehwag struggling and Wasim Jaffer not being able to make the cut - and that was having a knock-on effect on the middle order. All it required was some tweaking and fine-tuning and India were away. Sehwag was dropped, Tendulkar pushed down the order. Sourav Ganguly returned in fine style and the tyros who opened with him - Robin Uthappa and Gautam Gambhir - seized one chance apiece.

Gambhir's series was illustrative of his career - confidence at Nagpur, misjudgement, maybe even misfortune, at Cuttack, and sloppiness at Chennai. He could have eyed the reserve-opener slot for the World Cup but Sehwag's imminent return makes it an extremely long shot because Uthappa might just have upstaged him for that berth. His 41-ball 70 will be hard to match for its sheer impact, with crisply struck swats clattering into the boundary hoardings. The jury is still out on his technique -sophisticated slogger or adept thumper? - but this isn't the time for such philosophical questions.

Uthappa has amassed 854 runs in seven games in a bowler-dominated Ranji Trophy - significantly, three of his hundreds were on the first morning of games - and done enough, one might say, in the ODIs to deserve a spot. He needs to cash in on the starts he's got - in Chennai he gave it away when in the zone, in Vadodara he tried a cute glide to one that lifted from a good length - but he's an explosive talent and must be persisted with.

The middle order: India still don't know how well equipped they are in run-chases. Brian Lara chose to field on three occasions and Dravid decided to bat at Cuttack, the only venue where he won the toss. But Tendulkar shepherding in the middle order provides an element of calm. His hundred at Vadodara was a fine mix of strike-rotation and acceleration, giving India exactly what they missed over the last few months - consolidation followed by the final kick.

Word is that Virender Sehwag, likely to return for the Sri Lanka series, will bat in the middle order and, along with the impressive Dinesh Karthik and destructive Mahendra Singh Dhoni, provide the much-needed firepower at the death.

If Sehwag is indeed tried out in the middle order then he may have to compete with Dinesh Karthik for a place. Sehwag provides the offspin option but Karthik's agility, in a side that's loaded with weak fielders, will be impossible to ignore. And where does this leave Suresh Raina, who squandered his only chance at Chennai? India's ideal 12th man but whether fielding alone is enough for a spot remains to be seen.

The allrounder: This is one slot that doesn't seem to have any takers - Joginder Sharma muffed his chance at Cuttack, reckless with the bat and listless with the ball. Ramesh Powar, till recently a handy domestic allrounder, seized his chance with the ball, in his only opportunity at Cuttack, but his batting seems to have fallen away (and he doesn't have fielding to fall back on). He would anyway struggle to make the World Cup squad, with India almost set on picking two specialist spinners and the part-timers being slow bowlers as well. Irfan Pathan, lackluster in his only appearance at Vadodara, looks the ideal one to step into the No.7 void, provided he regains some sort of bowling rhythm.

Unanswered questions: What does one expect against Sri Lanka? The main question over the bowling is the choice between the erratic Sreesanth and the fragile Munaf Patel, with only one of them likely to be picked for the West Indies, and there's still a doubt over Pathan's rhythm. Yuvraj Singh hasn't done much with the bat since his return from injury and India will hope that the few remaining wrinkles are ironed over during the last lap of their World Cup preparations.

by Anand Vasu

Sachin Tendulkar didn't waste much time getting his eye in as he went on to make a 76-ball hundred © Getty Images

When it comes together like it did today, it is as irresistible as it is beautiful. The Indian batting line-up, for some years now, has been one of the most imposing teamsheets around. Even without Virender Sehwag, who will no doubt be back when the Sri Lankans come to India in a week, the top three batsmen in this team bring to the table 35003 one-day international runs and 75 centuries. In some cases whole teams don't boast such numbers. And when even two of the three fire, forget about all three backed up by some serious firepower at the death, big scores are inevitable.

In Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid and Sourav Ganguly India are fortunate to have, at the same time, three of the finest one-day batsmen of all time. In a World Cup year, this becomes especially relevant, for the temptation is to leave the big picture, the long-term, alone for the moment, and concentrate on winning the big prize, at all costs. And when the run buffet is as sumptuous as it was in Baroda, as a consumer you have to just cut loose and enjoy it.

Robin Uthappa may be the flavour of the fortnight, imposing himself with some barnstorming innings, but it was the calm, cool elegance of Ganguly that inspired confidence. There was an air of been-there-done-that to Ganguly as he picked off a couple of early boundaries, and then really signalled the kind of touch he was in with a lofted four off Marlon Samuels. Moving to leg slightly, Ganguly freed his arms, and could have hit the ball with all the strength in his torso, but instead, he gently coaxed it along, timing the ball perfectly, using the bat not so much to propel the ball but to direct it over mid-off to the boundary.

When Uthappa fell, Dravid joined Ganguly and the runs came with a minimum of fuss. Almost without a chance 101 runs were added for the second wicket, off only 113 balls, and when Ganguly jumped down the pitch and was stumped, India were going along at almost six, giving Tendulkar a buffer to settle in. But Tendulkar wasn't about to waste his time at the crease. Although he did not exhibit the same ease of boundary hitting as Ganguly, the intent to pick up singles was heightened, and the scoreboard was ticking over, the runs swelling.

Dravid, the rock of conventional middle-order ODI batting, helped himself to 78, with seven boundaries, but it was the man at the other end who was driving the crowd to distraction and making the connoisseurs purr with delight. Tendulkar's cover and square-driving were of the highest quality - the balance perfect, the weight transfer immaculate, the ball seldom going in the air. Dravid's dismissal, attempting to heave Samuels over midwicket, barely caused a blip, and brought on a roar from the crowd, not because it was time for him to go, but at 266 for 3 in the 44th over, it was MS Dhoni time.

Tendulkar, on 67 when Dhoni walked in, did not seem to realistically think he would make it to three figures, and was simply content turning the strike over and letting Dhoni loose on the bowlers. Dhoni certainly didn't mind, and proceeded to whip the bowlers to all parts. Long off, long-on, midwicket, the corporate office of Indian Petrochemicals Corporation Limited just outside the ground - nothing was spared as the ball disappeared to all parts.

Mahendra Singh Dhoni's hitting reached such a fever pitch that the crowd actually rumbled their discontent when Tendulkar was on strike © Getty Images

Dhoni's hitting reached such a fever pitch that the crowd actually rumbled their discontent when Tendulkar was on strike. Perhaps spurred by this, perhaps because he simply thought the time had come, Tendulkar unfurled his first big hit, a slog-sweep for six that took him to 83. Just two runs later Brian Lara did the unthinkable, putting down a straightforward offering from Tendulkar at mid-off, allowing an inside-out hit to somehow spear through him and run away to the boundary. On 91, Tendulkar was put down again, this time on the midwicket boundary by Lendl Simmons, and then it became clear that it was his day. Tendulkar's 41st one-day hundred was on its way, and off the last ball of the innings he pinched a single, taking his score to an even 100, off only 76 balls, and India to 341.

If there was still a chance, after India had posted such a tall score, then it evaporated when Ajit Agarkar delivered the prize wicket of Chris Gayle early on with a peach that curled away from the bat and Shivnarine Chanderpaul lobbed one to square-leg. All that was left, with the result not in serious doubt, was for the crowd to get one last look at Lara on Indian soil. They got one glide to third-man, and one whip off the hips before Lara, at the non-striker's end, was run out, backing up too much as a straight drive from Samuels ricocheted off Irfan Pathan onto the stumps. The crowd roared when the third umpire signalled the fall of the biggest West Indian wicket about, but perhaps they shouldn't have, for they'd just lost the last chance to savour a Lara innings in the flesh.

And yes, the time will come soon to see the back of Tendulkar, Dravid and Ganguly, not far apart from each other, and Indian crowds will then be left sampling what riches the next generation of batsmen has to offer. For the moment, though, in the approach to the World Cup, fans would do well to treasure the occasional pearls that they drop, instead of wondering whether these stalwarts are past their use-by date.

Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Without games on the domestic circuit to prove himself, Virender Sehwag tries to regain his touch through practice games © AFP

Three one-dayers, three openers, three half-centuries - a triumphant 98 for Sourav Ganguly, a confident 69 for Gautam Gambhir, and a ferocious 41-ball 70 for Robin Uthappa. All three, curiously, batting on the comeback trail. What it adds up to is problems for Virender Sehwag, who, having fallen from the heights of vice-captaincy to the depths of discard in the span of three months, finds himself in a world of quiet introspection.

Not so long ago the most destructive batsman in world cricket, Sehwag has been passed over both times the squad for the current series was chosen; his existence on the fringes has prompted the Delhi and Districts Cricket Association to organise practice games for him. Without games on the domestic circuit to prove himself - barring a solitary Ranji one-dayer against Jammu & Kashmir on February 10 - that's all he can fall back on.

One such match was at the Ferozeshah Kotla in Delhi on Monday; playing for Delhi A, on a sluggish pitch where stroke-makers struggled for timing, he scored 49 off 46 balls, finding the meat of the bat often enough to penetrate a packed off-side field. He didn't open but walked in at No.3 and was confident through his 58-minute stay. He was given one life on 19 but also hit six boundaries, including one straight drive in his typical stand-and-deliver style, before holing out trying to loft over the extra-cover fielder standing at the edge of inner circle.

Sehwag's last competitive outing was on January 10, when, having returned from a forgettable trip to South Africa, he cracked a finely-paced 106, from the middle order, against Haryana at Rohtak. Two days later he was dropped from the Indian team - the only other time he was axed was since his miserable ODI debut against Pakistan at Mohali. Dileep Vengsarkar, the chairman of selectors, hoped he would "go back to the nets and sort out his cricket, his batting basically".

Nobody can argue with that. Since the start of this season he's averaged 14.8 in ten matches, with just one fifty. He's gone through lean patches in the past - some may even argue that he's hardly attained any consistency in one-dayers - but the phase that comes closest is probably early in his career in 2001. He averaged 11.4 in eight innings before bouncing back with a mind-blowing century against New Zealand in Colombo. This time there was no such innings, just a forced break instead.

So what's he done over the last few weeks? He's gone back, lost weight, grown a French beard, returned to the Government Boys Senior Secondary School at Vikas Puri, studying videos of his dismissals with AN Sharma, his long-time coach

So what's he done over the last few weeks? He's gone back, lost weight, grown a French beard, returned to the Government Boys Senior Secondary School at Vikas Puri - his alma mater - and gone back to Batting 101, studying videos of his dismissals with AN Sharma, his long-time coach.

Sharma points out the two major focus areas: analysing his dismissals and trying to bat long periods. "We asked him to see his videos - how he's been getting out recently", Sharma told Cricinfo. "The aim was to find out what he wasn't doing correctly."

After seeing the videos, Sehwag would have a turn with the bat and Sharma would try and ensure the mistakes weren't repeated.

For example, in South Africa he was regularly getting out by slashing over the slips to third man - the prime example being in the third ODI at Cape Town, when he was out for a duck, caught by Andrew Hall in the deep off Shaun Pollock, in the very first over. " We worked on that.
"Secondly we worked on his focus. We gave him a challenge - in 60 minutes of batting, even though it was only against amateur bowlers, don't get out at any cost. He had to stay at the wicket and play his natural game without getting out even once."

But wouldn't it have helped Sehwag if he'd more time in the middle? Vijay Dahiya, the former Indian wicketkeeper and a close friend of Sehwag's, doesn't think so. "He's got a much-needed break," says Dahiya. "While playing constantly you don't realise what's going wrong with your game. He's had a chance to think about it. I've met him in this period and chatted with him.

"It's tough to gauge Veeru's confidence levels by talking to him - he's the same irrespective of what - but he likes to have long talks with his close friend. He keeps asking you questions - 'What's happening, what are you noticing, what am I doing wrong etc'. I think it's helped."

The selectors won't get to see much of Sehwag before they sit down to pick the World Cup squad. Maybe two games against Sri Lanka - if he's picked - or it will have to be just one Ranji ODI. They'll either have to go by past record - he was India's highest run-scorer in the ODIs in West Indies last year - potentially explosive quality, and allround value or decide to take the drastic step of leaving him behind. The first is almost a given, the second almost unthinkable. Almost.

Half the cricket world - England, South Africa, Pakistan - could watch India take on West Indies on January 21, but more than half in India couldn't © AFP

The Indian cricket fan's anxieties will have lessened following the compromise brokered by the Delhi High Court allowing Doordarshan, the state-owned free-to-air channel, to telecast - with a seven-minute delay - the second one-day international between India and West Indies on Wednesday. That is in addition to the telecast by Neo Sports, the pay channel promoted by Nimbus Communication, which owns the global television rights to Indian cricket.

It was inevitable - the stakes were just too high for it not to happen - but experience suggests that this is merely a temporary reprieve. The bigger question is how and why it was allowed to come to such a pass. The issue was hardly new, nor was this the first time that the courts had been called on to broker a solution. Yet, none of the stake-holders - Doordarshan (DD), Nimbus Communications, the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) - chose to act in time. Perhaps each was waiting for the other party to blink.

As a game of brinksmanship, it was both disastrous and farcical. Half the cricket world - England, South Africa, Pakistan - could watch India take on West Indies on January 21, but more than half in India couldn't.

The facts of the case are clear: Nimbus Communication refused to provide DD - the sole broadcaster to half of India's 100 million television homes - the live feed for the match unless DD agreed to encrypt its feed. The national Information and Broadcasting Ministry called the decision "unpatriotic" and said it was contemplating a law ensuring that rights holders share the cricket feed with the state-owned channel. No doubt, the move has popular support.

It's a similar situation in England, where the decision by the England and Wales Cricket Board to award exclusive rights for the telecast of home cricket, both international and domestic, to Sky Sports, a pay channel, drew wide criticism from cricket fans used to watching domestic cricket on BBC and home Tests on Channel 4, both free-to-air channels. The deal, worth ₤220 million, made live cricket inaccessible to nearly 70% of television viewers in the UK and the ECB was roundly vilified for compromising the wider interests of the game. Yet, the board was left with little choice because the bid from Channel 4 was far less than the Sky offer, and the ECB's primary stake- holders, the counties, backed the highest bid.

Most of all, though, the Indian government cannot claim to champion a free-market economy while abusing its basic principles by seeking to bully a rights-holder in the name of public interest

The difference in India is that while the ₤35 monthly fee for the Sky package is considered exorbitant by many consumers in England, paying for TV isn't even an option for India's rural millions. To that extent, the government is justified in trying to protect the interests of the public, because cricket, it can be argued, is not strictly a private event even though it is conducted by the BCCI, which is a private body.

But Doordarshan's case with Nimbus isn't strictly about public interest. At the heart of the dispute is the battle for eyeballs that ultimately translates into advertising revenue. Nimbus paid a hefty $612 million for the rights and is entitled to fight to protect its territory. Doordarshan has paid nothing, and has nothing to lose. Every rupee it can earn from televising the matches is a bonus. Yet it has chosen, either through sheer negligence and incompetence or because of arrogance and greed, or quite possibly a mix of all the above, not to comply with a reasonable request to encrypt the live feed to ensure that it isn't freely available for redistribution by cable operators in India and other satellite networks abroad.

Doordarshan's argument is that encryption is beyond its technical means. If that indeed is the case, and it sounds suspiciously like crying wolf, then it is obliged to get its act together. It is not the first instance that Doordarshan has come into conflict with a rights owner. In fact there is a pattern to this - ESPN and Ten Sports have already fought court cases against Doordarshan - and it does raise the question of whether Doordarshan is dragging its feet on encryption because it wants to retain its market share in cable homes as well.

In the past, there also have been disputes over the nature of the feed. During India's tour to Pakistan in 2005-06, Ten Sports, the rights holder, refused to give in to Doordarshan's demand for a clean feed (without advertisements) on the grounds that its financial interests would be compromised. In this case, Nimbus has agreed to a 75:25 share of the advertising revenue in their favour, which is a fair deal considering Doordarshan haven't paid a penny for the rights.

The blackout of the first match was a discredit to all, not the least to the BCCI which, as the custodians of Indian cricket, is morally responsible for ensuring the widest possible coverage for the game. It is impossible to ignore the fact that the BCCI is currently headed by a man who is an influential member of the Indian government.

Most of all, though, the Indian government cannot claim to champion a free-market economy while abusing its basic principles by seeking to bully a rights-holder in the name of public interest. As India's true national sport, cricket must be made accessible to everyone who wants to watch it. And a straightforward solution is available. This is a matter that warrants closure.

All that is good and bad about Sreesanth's spunk epitomises the new Kerala © AFP

Anil Nair

He doesn't have the time today, and there's always the fear of being mobbed. Once upon a time, though, before he became an icon in his home state of Kerala, Sreesanth would follow a tiring nets session at Kochi's Durbar Hall ground by accompanying his club coach and mentor, Shivkumar, to the promenade along Marine Drive. They'd walk to the unused jetty at the northern end, lean on its wooden railing and gaze at the Ernakulam-Vypeen ferry make its slow passage along the sleepy river. Under the setting sun and cotton-wool sky, they'd spend the time in contemplative silence, taking in the space.

"Looking at him in the middle of a cricket match I often used to wonder if it was the same kid I knew", Shivkumar recalled. "Even then he seemed to have two distinct personalities - the quiet, shy boy on the one hand, totally transformed when playing, almost demonic."

The latter Sreesanth was in evidence to the world, of course, during the Wanderers Test when he not only bowled a match-winning spell but also displayed the "demonic" side of his character. Once again his penchant for the bruising contest and the big stage was in evidence. From famously removing Sachin Tendulkar in the domestic Challenger Trophy and getting Brian Lara out for a duck at Antigua down to the peach that undid Jacques Kallis at the Wanderers, he's the type who guns for the marquee players.

So how do the two Sreesanths square with each other? The answer lies in the milieu - both cricketing and societal - that moulded him.

The overwhelmingly leftist ideals led to cricket [in Kerala] being seen, as scorned, as elitist. The sprint, the backstroke and long jump, not to mention football at its fast and furious best, seemed better suited to a youth seeking both distraction and a semblance of class conflict

Long before Kerala, Sreesanth's home state, became a tourist hotspot its high literacy levels, remarkably low infant mortality rates, female empowerment and a cultural refinement at par with the first world had prompted the United Nations to propagate the Kerala Model and for the likes of Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen to eulogise the state as "the Mount Everest of social development".

The pretty picture, however, had a seamier side that could be conveniently ignored - a lack of industrial development - as long as State intervention and money from expats in the Gulf kept the near-bankrupt economy floating.

The overwhelmingly leftist ideals led to cricket being seen, as scorned, as elitist. The sprint, the backstroke and long jump, not to mention football at its fast and furious best, seemed better suited to a youth seeking both distraction and a semblance of class conflict. For more than fifty years cricket existed just below the surface, the flame kept alive by a handful of little-acclaimed practitioners.

All this changed with economic liberalisation and the waning of leftist influence and, as business elected itself the new culture, the younger generation began ushering in a strictly functional ethic. Proudly professional, they had no qualms about shifting allegiances and replacing loss. They belonged to Kerala but were new even to themselves, their past locked away and the key lost. The arrival of a cricketer of international calibre was simply a matter of time.

Sreesanth is not afraid of letting his hair down on the field, even if his optimism at times appears naive © AFP

In the Indian team these days optimising one's own effort is balanced by the emphasis on not letting down someone else's. This might be a legacy of the John Wright-Greg Chappell era but for Sreesanth, as with a few others, such attitudes only confirm the new ethos they have imbibed growing up in their own milieu. With Sreesanth there is, though, the danger that his optimism at times is so naïve that it can self-defeating. He himself is aware of it and the occasional restraining hand on the shoulder won't be a bad idea. "I was trying too hard," he said about how he was all over the place just prior to lunch on the second day, having already removed Graeme Smith and Hashim Amla. During the break the coach and captain had a quite word with him and soon he was back to sticking to the correct line and length.

However, what might be less tractable than temperament could be the workings of his own body. "Cricket is so much a mind game, but you also have to listen to your body. When it says 'no', you have to acknowledge it," he had told Cricinfo in May. For the moment, though, as a humbled South Africa will testify, it's a resounding 'yes'.

by Jayaditya Gupta

To justify outrageous costs television could well become more intrusive, arguably, to the game's detriment © Getty Images

There are celebrations, no doubt, in the world of cricket over the auctioning of the ICC's TV rights from 2007 to 2015. It's not known exactly how much ESPN-Star Sports will pay for the rights but it's believed to be double of what the ICC earned the last time, which puts it at around
$1.1 billion.

While it pales in comparison to the $1.5 billion Rupert Murdoch's Sky Sports paid for three-year rights to telecast English Premier League football, that's a huge, huge figure by cricketing standards. No wonder the ICC's wise men, assembled in Dubai for the purpose, were over the
moon.

No complaints about the figure, then. Nor even about where the money is going. If indeed cricket is to grow into a truly international sport (despite the obvious hurdles such a quintessentially English game presents), beyond the Commonwealth, it needs money. That it now has.

No quibbles there, either. Yet one wonders what this will do to the game itself. Too much money - and the hankering for still more -- has already eaten away at the soul of football, turning a working man's sport into an indulgence for the wealthy; the meat pies have been famously replaced by prawn sandwiches.

The most obvious concern among cricket fans, and not just the anoraks or Long Room traditionalists but the common folk who just love their sport, is the high pressure that TV companies will come under to recoup the high cost of rights they have bought. Cricket became entertainment long ago; 30 years ago, to be precise, when Kerry Packer turned the game on its head with coloured clothing and innovative marketing. Yet that was to prove a point - that the game, in effect, belonged to everyone - and, point proved, cricket returned to a semblance of normalcy.

Normal conditions were suspended, at least for Indian viewers, in March 2003 when Set Max unleashed its version of cricket coverage with Mandira Bedi and her noodle straps playing the moll to a panel of grizzled ex-cricketers. The sound of jaws hitting the floor in disbelief was
drowned out by whirr of ratings hitting the roof, justifying Set Max's decision to break into new territory and buy cricket telecast rights. The domino effect was staggering, as the news channels, caught up in intense, often insane, competition, succumbed like the English batsmen at Adelaide and chased the lowest common denominator.

Later that same year, ESPN-Star Sports, the same outfit that won the ICC's rights for the next eight years, pepped up its coverage of India's tour Down Under - a series accompanied by enough cricketing drama - with the Shaz and Waz Show. For those of you lucky enough to have missed it, it featured two great former cricketers engaging in puerile locker-room banter, usually with a girl from the crowd who'd drawn the short straw and had one eye on the exit. The result was obvious: though response was mixed, the bottomline was that everyone watched.

'The logic is simple: If India play, Indians watch, advertisers pay. Take India out of a tournament and the revenues disappear' © Getty Images

It's impossible for ESPN-Star to reverse the trend, and frankly implausible to expect them to even attempt it (though they could use Twenty20 as their vehicle for regression into laddish humour). ESPN may have the match telecast rights but will have to fight for eyeballs in the
pre- and post-game shows, and during the breaks.

The more serious concern, of course, derives from the enormous power that India - home to a majority of ESPN-Star's viewers - now wields. It's nothing new: around 40 per cent of what GCC paid the ICC for the rights last time was recouped from Set Max for the India rights. Lalit Modi, the BCCI vice-president, had told Cricinfo that Sony paid $208 million of the GCC's $532 million.

Already responsible for around 70% of cricket's global revenues, the Indian viewership is the main factor for any cricket tournament to break even. It's why match telecast in India is squeezed down to six balls an over - sometimes less when DD gets into its emasculating act - and is shorn of the drama just before and after an over. That sort of saturation advertising is also why the BCCI's grouse against the Champions Trophy, and the threat of not participating, was a matter of serious concern. The logic is simple: If India play, Indians watch, advertisers pay. Take India out of a tournament and the revenues disappear. There were strong rumours during the last World Cup of the pitches being suited to Indian batsmen because an early Indian exit would have been disastrous. In any case TV channels love batting pitches in ODIs because they maximize the length of the game; anything remotely sporting runs the risk of early closure.

It's not unusual for TV programming to dictate what happens on the sports field: the time-outs in American sports are perfect for lengthy, revenue-spinning ad breaks. Football has long been hostage to TV money; the 1986 World Cup in Mexico was scheduled with the European audience in mind so you had the world's best footballers running around in the noonday sun. The top European leagues have to work their match schedules to suit the demands of TV programming, so that in England, for example, the traditional Saturday afternoon kickoff is almost a rarity. It affects the fan who wants to support his team: Imagine traveling from Newcastle, in the north-east, to Southampton, on the south coast, in time for a noon kickoff?

The fans at the stadiums is something neither TV channels nor the BCCI has to worry about, yet that should be another cause of concern. The global cricket economy is based on the pulling power of the Indian team; that's less than two dozen players. Not a league, not a fixed structure, nothing of permanence. A handful of players, most of whom will definitely not be
around in 2015. That involves several what ifs, chiefly, What if the Indian team has a long-term lack of quality players and a long spell of bad results? And what if, as a consequence, it makes early exits from the big tournaments?

Which brings us to the inevitable point: Can cricket television stretch to make the kind of money that ESPN-Star Sports are paying. Simple arithmetic - the money spent divided by the 165 matches available (going by current schedules) in two World Cups and three Champions Trophies - leaves the broadcasters having to recoup $6 million per match. Not much of a surprise, then that SetMax didn't even put up a bid this time.

Of course, it may all end up apple-shaped: India's current young bunch could be the next Dream Team, the eyeballs will be glued to the screens, the advertisers and sponsors will be smiling. It's not impossible. If only we could get back cricket coverage as we knew it.

Hanumant Singh: always Chhotu to the ones who loved and respected him © Rameshwar Singh

The difference between cold news and hard reality was brought home like a slap in the face at 4.30pm in Chandanwadi, Mumbai where Hanumant Singh was cremated. Until then he had been merely a former Indian cricketer who had featured in 14 Tests and then faded away in debatable circumstances, through injury. At the crematorium, however, with Mumbai's cricket fraternity coming together to pay their last respects, Hanumant Singh became Chhotu, as even those much younger to him referred to him.

It was a chance for captains of the team then known as Bombay, who had played against Hanumant in as many as seven Ranji finals, to show the respect they had for their Chhotu. Madhav Apte, Ajit Wadekar and Bapu Nadkarni were all right at the forefront, consoling Sangram Singh, Hanumant's son and himself a cricketer, and it was ironic that the one captain who had played against Hanumant who was missing - Polly Umrigar, had died earlier this month.

Bishan Singh Bedi had flown from Delhi to Mumbai to be at the funeral, and the man who would have most wanted to be there, Raj Singh Dungarpur, was away in his home town of Dungarpur, campaigning for the Bharatiya Janata Party ahead of forthcoming legislative assembly elections. He took the first possible flight to Mumbai, but by the time he made it, the funeral was finished, and some said that was perhaps a good thing, for Dungarpur would not have liked the Chhotu he saw.

More than three weeks of being in intensive care, kept alive by machines and given a chance to fight a combination of Hepatitis B and Dengue that had ravaged his liver, kidneys and lungs, had taken their toll, and the Hanumant that lay before the gathering bore no resemblance to the Hanumant who had, till as recently as November 4, been in Rajasthan, his home state, working as chairman of the selection committee.

Those who could be there were there; those who couldn't, showed their respect in other ways. Indian cricketers playing South Africa at Port Elizabeth wore black armbands, as did another set of cricketers at the Bombay Gymkhana. They were trainees of the England and Wales Cricket Board Academy, many of whom Hanumant had coached.

One of the things Hanumant was known for, besides, as Vasu Paranjpe so succinctly put it, "driving through the on-side with such comfort that Chhotu was compared to Peter May, was his reading of the game. This would come out when Hanumant chatted about cricket, which was frequently. Some years back, over a cup of tea with some journalists, he made the point that VVS Laxman was repeatedly being dismissed caught on the off side because he was playing across the line. Unable to quite understand what he was saying, he was pressed for more; he summoned a bat and demonstrated how Laxman was actually playing across the line from leg to off, rather than the other way round, the common definition of the term "playing across the line."

When Hanumant's funeral ended, it was fitting, though ironic, that most of the gathering made their way to the CK Nayudu hall at the Cricket Club of India for a condolence meeting to mark the death of Pahlan Ratanji Umrigar. It had been organised much in advance with the Bombay Parsee Punchayat earlier, and today fitted into the mood of things. Those who spoke of Polly kaka, and their audience, both reflected a time when cricket was a different game, and not just in the sense that one-day cricket had yet to be invented or that cricket boards did not measure success by the size of their coffers. The common thread was that Umrigar and Hanumant loved cricket to the extent that neither could give it up once their playing days were done.

Nari Contractor, visibly emotional, demanded that the Mumbai Cricket Association name its indoor school after Umrigar. Piloo Reporter, the former umpire who showed up in sports shoes, black trousers and a white shirt as though he was going to umpire a game, referred to the sobriquet 'palm-tree hitter' that Umrigar had picked up on the 1951-52 tour of West Indies, where he cleared the fence repeatedly. "The palm tree has fallen," said Reporter, in a reference to Umrigar's height and stature.

Apte, who shared a room with Umrigar on more than one tour, spoke of how the big man would carry a saree of his newlywed wife Dinoo, and keep it under his pillow as he slept.

There was no mention of contracts. There was no sign of a sponsor. There was no talk of burn-out. There wasn't an agent in sight. What there was, was a roomful of people saying "thanks for the good times," and good-bye, to two of their own.

by Dileep Premachandran

Zaheer Khan was dynamite with the new ball at Newlands, at the slog he was poor © AFP

For more than half the innings, it was a near-impeccable bowling display. Zaheer Khan provided the incisions at the top of the order and Anil Kumble tightened the noose with his legspin. But in the final 10 overs, near-perfect became perfectly abysmal as Justin Kemp and Andrew Hall ravaged the bowling for 113 runs. Kemp smashed seven sixes, and Zaheer's last two overs went for 31 in an unforgettable display of power-hitting.

If it had been a one-off, it could have been dismissed as an aberration. After all, the South African batsmen had clobbered 96 from 9.5 overs against Australia as they overhauled 434 at the Wanderers in March. But India have a history when it comes to late-overs ineptitude, and a failure to finish teams off.

At Newlands, they had South Africa 76 for 6, and allowed them to escape to 274. A couple of months earlier in Kuala Lumpur, with a place in the DLF Cup final at stake, they had Australia reeling at 117 for 6, only for the last four wickets to add 96 on a surface where run-scoring was never easy. The same bowlers who had appeared so menacing and incisive in their opening spells got hammered late in the innings, with barely a yorker finding its target.

The yorker, whether reverse-swung or otherwise, has been an integral part of the problem. Munaf Patel bowled it beautifully on Test debut at Mohali against England, but has found it difficult to do the same with the white ball. And the attempts to pitch full in Cape Town played straight into Justin Kemp's hands, with his devastating straight swings sending the ball soaring over the fence.

As Brett Lee and several others have shown often enough the fast, well-directed, swinging yorker is an invaluable weapon at the denouement of a one-day innings. But it's also a delivery that leaves no margin for error. Get it wrong, and a potentially wicket-taking ball becomes a full toss, and a free hit for a batsman.

Bowling Anil Kumble at the slog could be a temporary option © AFP

The cleverly disguised change of pace is an equally potent delivery, but there too India's bowlers have a way to go to attain Steve Waugh or Dwayne Bravo standards. Bowling length balls with barely a variation in pace is a recipe for disaster, and once Kemp started teeing off, India had no answers.

The magnitude of the problem is best illustrated by figures. In 80 innings since the last World Cup, India conceded 4358 runs between the 41st and 50th overs. They took 173 wickets at 25.19 and leaked 6.44 per over. In the same time-frame, Australia also bowled in 80 innings, picking up 196 wickets at 20.07 and conceded 6.05 per over.

Since Manoj Prabhakar was eased out of the game by Sanath Jayasuriya's strokeplay at the 1996 World Cup, India have struggled to find someone adept at bowling at the death. Ajit Agarkar and Zaheer are the most experienced in the end overs, but neither has been as effective as they can be with the new ball. The new crop have also learnt the hard way. Munaf and Sreesanth bowled beautifully initially in the warm-up match against Rest of South Africa at Benoni, but once Albie Morkel and Jacques Rudolph decided to open out, they were clueless.

Turning to Kumble and spin might be a short-term answer, but with modern-day batsmen using such heavy bats, even a mis-hit could comfortably clear the rope. In the biggest game that India have played in recent memory, Ricky Ponting and Damien Martyn walloped 109 from the final ten overs of the World Cup final, effectively ending it as a contest. Once or twice, Ponting lofted the ball one-handed, such was the wretched bowling on display. To avoid repeats of that fiasco and the Cape Town one, India have to find answers to an issue that could replace Fermat's Last Theorem as the problem no one can solve.

Sambit Bal

When conditions are demanding batsmen like Laxman have the skill to see out the tough periods © AFP

The most unfortunate of events has led to one wrong being righted. India have lost their captain and best batsman to a finger injury, and Rahul Dravid is quite irreplaceable at the moment. But the tragedy has opened a door for VVS Laxman, who should have been on the flight to South Africa on November 12 in the first place.

There were several plausible reasons to keep Laxman out of the one-day team. One, he can bat only at number three; he is too reliant on subtlety and touch to be able to summon the violence required in the later overs. And for the top three slots, he has been competing with Sachin Tendulkar, Dravid and Virender Sehwag. Unlike the last World Cup, it was never a case of Laxman v Dinesh Mongia. Mongia was picked this time for a specific role: to bowl five overs of flat and stump-to-stump left-arm spin, the kind of which can be handy on slow and low West Indian pitches, and bat at No 7.

Two, he is a poor athlete. He can only field in the slips and is a liability in the outfield during the slog overs. Not the best fielding side, India can carry only so many men under the harsh lights of top-level international cricket. Also, he can't pinch a single or convert a two into three and always presents the threat of a run-out while at the crease.

Three, one-day cricket is a young man's game and, being on the wrong side of thirty, Laxman isn't part of the future. Tendulkar and Dravid select themselves and it makes sense to groom young players around them.

However, the circumstances have changed in the past few months, and changed circumstances warrant flexible thinking. On pitches that haven't been conducive to batting, some Indian batsmen have been exposed for their technical shortcomings and inability to adapt. Sehwag has continued to fail, Yuvraj Singh has lost form and Suresh Raina hasn't been good enough.

Most importantly, pitches in West Indies, Malaysia and in India during the Champions Trophy have changed, if only slightly, the pattern of one-day cricket. Seam, spin and indifferent bounce have tested batsmen and demanded application and technical adaptability. It has made for interesting cricket and raised the importance of primary batting skills. Unless the pitches change dramatically, the World Cup is likely to see 250-run totals rather than those in excess of 300.

A batsman like Laxman can be a misfit and a liability even on flat batting pitches where batsmen can plonk the front foot down and swing through the line. If you are looking at scoring over 300, you need batsmen who can clear the ropes every once in a while. One Dravid is enough to rotate the strike.

To chase 250, though, you need solid and sensible batting. And when conditions are demanding, you need batsmen who have the skill to see out the tough periods. Raina is a promising batsman and electric in the field. Mohammad Kaif is a fighter, a team-man and brilliant in the inner circle. But on batting pedigree, they don't equal to half of Laxman.

Too often in the recent past, Laxman has batted like a man with his place on the line. Some of his doubts are perhaps self-inflicted. But to get the best out of him, he must be made to feel wanted and secure

When going got tough for batsmen in the Champions Trophy, Australia found a saviour in Damien Martyn. He didn't need to hit the cover off the ball. He was deft and skillful. He created the angles and found the gaps. Laxman is a batsman in the same mould. But too often in the recent past, he has batted like a man with his place on the line. Some of his doubts are perhaps self-inflicted. But to get the best out of him, he must be made to feel wanted and secure.

When the Dravid-Chappell regime began, Indian cricket needed a shake-up. The team had become stale and lethargic. Some players needed to go, some needed to be woken up, and new players needed to be tried. In Munaf Patel, India have found a bowler for the future. And having served a necessary sentence, Zaheer Khan is back, fitter and hungrier. But India must now pause, catch their breath, reassess their options, and choose the best available talent.

Jayaditya Gupta

	Indian players are expected to receive performance-linked incentives by the board from the coming season. Will it work? © AFP

Money can't buy you love, and it didn't need Malcolm Speed to remind us that it doesn't guarantee success. Yet the Board of Control for Cricket in India is sticking to its first principles concerning money: More begets more. And so the changes they are proposing - emerging in bits and pieces in the media -- in the system of contracts for Team India's cricketers revolve around this very premise.

If we are to believe those scraps of information, the BCCI proposes, in addition to the basic wages that will remain largely the same, performance-linked incentives or bonuses for players from the coming season. At one level, it is in keeping with basic management or corporate practice: If there's a windfall, spread it among your employees but make them work for it.

Performance-linked incentives exist across all top team sports, even those aimed at individual players and apparently contradicting the underlying concept. In the NFL, for example, the provisions include incentives for team wins and for the defence and offence en bloc; individual incentives in what is a statistics-heavy sport range from the predictable - individual touchdowns and yards rushed - to the lateral, including personal physical condition (weight control).

Top footballers in Europe earn a fat basic wage, topped up by bonuses ranging from feats as individualistic as goals scored, shots saved and international appearances, and as interlinked as team wins and points secured.

It can also be argued that cricket, unlike football, is a far more individual sport. A bowler needs no other condition than his own ability to dismiss a batsman, a fielder depends only on his personal brilliance to effect a run-out. Player statistics are far more individual-centric than in, say, football, and one man can literally win a game single-handed.

And yet. And yet there remains a nagging doubt over what the BCCI is proposing. It stems from the fact that we're talking about the Indian team, which itself is a pretty accurate reflection of the bizarre structure within which it exists - not just in the context of cricket, but in the context of Indian attitudes to sport.

In the more economically well-off countries, sport is an end in itself; it does not, suo motu, offer any tangible gains other than the benefits of staying fit and healthy and, in a team sport, picking up the essentials of teamwork. Indians are not overly driven by the idea of either fitness or teamwork; sport becomes a tool for personal enhancement, and cricket is the Do-It-Yourself kit with best prospects.

Indians are not overly driven by the idea of either fitness or teamwork; sport becomes a tool for personal enhancement

And, within the context of sport, Indian cricket goes a step farther by celebrating - whether by the public, by the players, by those who run the game - the individual over the team. It is changing, but ever so slowly. It is still common to see public distress over the team's defeat being soothed by the fact that one player had had a brilliant game - or worse, that one player had flopped. We are yet to emulate the Australian way (or even, as Speed reminded us, the New Zealand way) of placing team before individual.

Instead, the cricketers are usually playing for their place in the side, whether the one out in the middle or the one in the ads - and it's getting increasingly hard to tell one from the other - when they need to play for the side, first, last and every time. We saw it in the last days of Sourav Ganguly's regime; it's little coincidence that, once again, contracts are in the air and the team is at sixes and sevens. Injecting individual incentives into this mix is scarcely likely to improve things.

One way out - in theory at least - is to evaluate the players in a qualitative manner, not based merely on statistics but giving weightage to match situations. That would take care of the problem above but raises another question: Who will judge the players in such detail, and with a certain objectivity? You would have to account for the minutiae of match situations: Pitch conditions (a fast bowler presented with the flattest of tracks), the state of play (the No 7 in an ODI scored only 20 but he did it off 10 balls at the death) or even the captain's instructions to a particular player. We have a shortage of qualified people to do the job and those who can, have more lucrative commitments on hand.

Perhaps it's not even a question of whether money should be the motivating factor but whether it can. The underlying principle of sport is the element of competition, and the fuel that drives every sportsman - whether the kid in Shivaji Park or his idol in Cubbon Park - is pride. The higher one goes in any profession, and India's cricketers are at the top of theirs, financial incentives offer diminishing returns. The BCCI needs to think several times - and as laterally as possible - before fixing incentives.

Dileep Premachandran

It was only a few years ago that cricket fans were holding demonstrations against Mohammad Azharuddin © Getty Images

It ended with a flick off the pads, the stroke that had captivated millions of fans for close to two decades. This time, under the floodlights at the Bangabandhu Stadium, instead of racing away to the square-leg fence, it looped to the fielder positioned for the shot. We weren't to know it then but that would be the last stroke Mohammad Azharuddin would play in a 16-year-career that spanned 99 Tests and 334 one-day internationals.

His Test swansong had been a cavalier century in a hopelessly lost cause and, by the time he arrived in Dhaka for his one-day farewell, the air was thick with stories of his involvement in the match-fixing scandal that had seen Hansie Cronje's fall from grace. When the contents of the CBI report and the BCCI-instituted Madhavan inquiry were made public, Azharuddin's transformation from authentic hero to arch villain was complete.

Over the following months, he did himself few favours. The first significant interview after the life ban handed down by the BCCI included cheap shots at the likes of Sunil Gavaskar and Ravi Shastri and even Sachin Tendulkar, and his insinuation elsewhere that he was being persecuted for being a Muslim met with the derision it deserved in a country that he had captained for 47 Test matches.

The latest episode, in which the BCCI's new dispensation seeks to rehabilitate Azhar, has a lot to do with the ICC and little to do with the man himself. The squabble between the ICC and the BCCI, over matters ranging from the Members Participation Agreement to the function on November 4, is characterised by as much one-upmanship as that between two kids arguing over whose mother is prettiest.

More than a year later, he was the only one of 16 nominees not to be
present at Wisden's Indian Cricketer of the Century awards. That slight is
said to have hurt him deeply, as did the angry reaction from Ehsan Mani,
then ICC president, when Azhar was invited to the 2004 Asia Cup by a TV
channel.

Those justifying his rehabilitation point to Shane Warne and Mark Waugh,
and the light rap on the knuckles that Cricket Australia gave them for
their involvement with a bookmaker. But one wrong shouldn't beget another,
and it's regrettable that the BCCI, which was in a minority when it came
to investigating such misdemeanours, should try to undo its own good work.

The decision to honour Azhar casts it in poor light. The ban had been its
idea, based on plentiful circumstantial evidence unearthed by the CBI,
Madhavan's interviews and even the King Commission. Paul Condon's report
on corruption within the game praised the CBI inquiry, and the idea of
felicitating a man whose name crops up each time anyone investigates
match-fixing will be deeply discomfiting to many in the cricket community.

No one denies his contributions to the game as a batting
artist, or his role as captain in India's many successes on home soil in
the 1990s, but all of that is obscured by what followed. Cricketers have
slipped up before, but those like Herschelle Gibbs, and even Cronje
himself, admitted to their mistakes -- at least in part -- and sought
forgiveness. In Azhar's case, there has not been a single admission of
wrongdoing. If he's as innocent as he claims, and it is germane to point out
that he has not yet been found guilty in a court of law, it begs the
question why so many of his former team-mates, including some of the game's greatest
names, haven't bothered to stay in touch with him.

While he still protests his innocence, in most people's eyes he committed
the gravest crime of all, far worse than popping a diuretic or injecting a
steroid. He was seen to have betrayed the fans, whose faith sustains the
game as much as any heroics on the field. He should be allowed to get on
with his life, and live with his mistakes, but any attempt to gloss over
them will only set an appalling precedent for the future of a game whose
beauty has been marred by one scandal too many in recent times.

IS Bindra: a scathing response to newspaper article © Getty Images

The tensions that currently exist between the Indian board and other members of the cricket-playing world have been laid bare by IS Bindra, the former President of the BCCI, who has issued a scathing response to an article by the veteran Australian journalist and Indophile, Mike Coward.

Writing in The Australian on Saturday, Coward accused the Indian administrators of "brash and bolshy [behaviour that] beggars belief", and suggested that the BCCI was aiming to use its "obscene" wealth to usurp the ICC as the game's ruling body. "India must decide whether it wishes to remain a part of the international cricket family," he intoned. "It is as fundamental as that."

The BCCI might have been tempted to let such trenchant opinions pass by unnoticed, but coming from Coward - a man whom Bindra has "known for over two decades ... and respect[ed] for his invariably temperate views" - they instead felt compelled to respond in kind. In doing so, they have given a fascinating insight into the sort of conflicts that hitherto have been taking place only at boardroom level.

"He has just poured his venom and vitriol," wrote Bindra, after Coward accused his organisation of caring only for "naked ambition and the power of the purse". "I really wonder what is it that we have done to invite his unbridled ire," he continued. "I am both amused and aghast at some of his objectionable observations."

In particular, Bindra bridled at Coward's use of the word "bolshy" - a word that once had left-wing connotations, but now is more commonly used as a synomym for "obstreperous" or "stroppy". Ironically, it soon becomes clear that both alternatives would aptly describe his response.

"As students of history both Mike and I have read and understood Marx, Lenin and the Bolsheviks well, I think," continued Bindra. "How can the Indian Board be Bolshy when he is accusing us of using our money power to control the game! Is it his argument that we have unleashed a terror against upper classes or what he says countries like England and Australia? We Indians are passionate about cricket, but that doesn't mean we wish or talk ill of others."

Bindra insisted he didn't want to extend the Marxist dogma further "lest it is interpreted using dangerous analogies", but then ploughed on regardless. "How can cricket or even India survive without the countries which he insinuates we are out to subjugate? Yes, in a way he is right, like Bolsheviks our Board is full of revolutionary ideas as we believe in equality and we want every cricket-playing nation to prosper by replicating the Indian system so that cricket becomes a truly global sport. To call us imperialists sounds funny as we have never showed the imperiousness of absolute monarchs!"

The next meeting of the ICC executive board takes place in Mumbai on November 3 and 4. "It is bound to be one of the most rancorous meetings in the ICC's 97-year history," wrote Coward, who even questioned whether the organisation would still be standing by the end of it all. Bindra, however, insisted the game would survive what he termed these "aberrations and hiccups", although his wider response did little to allay any pre-meeting concerns.

"[The] ICC is not grinning and bearing it, it is the other way round," wrote Bindra. "It wants us to accept all its unreasonable diktats. The ICC may have made itself impotent and irrelevant, but the day it addresses all the issues raised not only by us but a host of others, it will be a vibrant apex body for international cricket. We are looking at a buoyant cricket world, not indulging in what he calls in any brinkmanship."

Coward pulls no punches in his forthright article, suggesting that the Indian board is reaping what was sown several decades ago by an Anglo-centric ICC whose "imperialist, paternalistic prattle [was] at best, dismissive and culturally elitist and, at worst, racist". But Bindra dismissed this notion. "We have long forgotten that as a bad dream," he wrote. "I don't know how many minds he has studied in the subcontinent to come up with such a profound psycho-analysis."

On his colleague, Lalit Modi, whom many critics of the BCCI single out as the most abrasive influence in the current dispute, Bindra was disarmingly honest. "[Coward] is obviously referring to [Modi's] excessive zeal and volatility he occasionally exhibits when the other side is refusing to see reason." For the sake of the game, here's hoping some reason can be reached at Mumbai next week.