Celebrations inside the dressing room are always special © Getty Images

Almost every cricketer in Mumbai plays in the maidans in the initial stages of his career. One of the most memorable things about that club cricket is the makeshift dressing rooms. A small tent, with about 15 to 20 wooden or plastic chairs, generally serves the purpose of a dressing room. One has to do everything there only, including changing into and out of the whites. During the Kanga League, always played during the monsoons, it usually rains during the matches. The game comes to a halt, water rushes into the tent, both the teams are in the same tent and one has to stand on a chair with the kit. One may graduate from there to first-class cricket or to international cricket, but sometimes the fondest memories – apart from achievements on the field – emanate from the dressing room, be it a makeshift tent, an old-fashioned dressing room full of history, or a modern one with a gymnasium and all slick amenities inside.

We spend a significant part of our lives in the dressing room, hence it is important to have the right environment there. And if that is the case, it shows on the field. We come from different ethnic backgrounds and travel a lot with each other, spending months away from home, so obviously we have to bond. We celebrate a lot of festivals in the dressing room: Eid, Diwali, Holi, Christmas, when the whole team gets together. Often we are playing on the New Year’s Day, so while we miss home, we have a small family with us that keeps us going.

The celebrations inside dressing rooms are always special. We recently celebrated Baroda captain Connor Williams’s completion of 100 first-class games, in Amritsar. It makes it special for the player when he knows that the team is out there to support him and acknowledges his achievements.

Apart from regular team meetings, there is a lot one can learn in the dressing rooms. When I walked into the Bombay dressing room for the first time, I was in sheer awe. I had always wanted to be a part of that team. And there I was, able to spend with all the seniors I had heard about, seen on TV.

I have played under Ravi Shastri, Sanjay Manjrekar and Sachin Tendulkar. Sharing the same dressing room, I got to know about their habits, their superstitions, their approach towards the game, their preparation for the games, and the way they tackled situations. It was an enriching experience that helped me later in my career.

Almost every player has superstitions. One of the most obvious ones was Tendulkar’s who used to sit two seats from me. He would always wear the left pad first. There are others who sit in a certain manner, who don’t like to talk out of superstition, but Tendulkar’s left-pad-first was an obvious one.

In dressing rooms one also gets used to behavioural patterns of different players. For example if Vinod Kambli got out early, we knew everything in the dressing room would fly around. So the moment he got out, the dressing room would go empty. For the next ten minutes, a bat would fly here, helmet there, and no-one would enter. After sometime, we would come back and settle down again.

Tendulkar would react differently. He would just keep his equipment down and be on his own. Some others would abuse themselves out loud for having played a bad shot. But the beauty was that we knew how an individual would react, and would give him his space so that he could settle down.

The Indian dressing room was an entirely different feeling. It takes a while there to adjust. Firstly there is a mix of immense happiness and pressure that makes the newcomer nervous. Over the years when one has represented a state, one associates with certain individuals. For example it was not only Tendulkar in the India dressing room, but players from other states too that I had to get used to. Moreover, everyone else has his habits. For every venue, every individual has his own seat and he has been in that position for many years. For a newcomer it can be tricky when he searches for his seat, because he has to make sure he doesn’t sit in a seat where someone else has kept his stuff. And one can tell from looking at the equipment which seat is Tendulkar’s and which is Rahul Dravid’s. And then when one finds a seat for oneself, it is a feeling like no other.

Same is the case when teams travel. Players have fixed seats in buses where they like to sit every time, so a newcomer has to be careful with that too.

There is an unsaid pact in any dressing room: that whatever happens there stays there. I have not seen many people discuss outside what has gone wrong in the dressing room. That trust in each other is a trademark of any dressing room.

At different venues, one encounters different settings. Eden Gardens, for example, hasn’t changed much over the years. Still there are only 15 seats, sufficient only for players. The support staff that nowadays travels with the teams is often seen sitting outside. In Mohali, one dressing room is named after Kapil Dev and the other after Sunil Gavaskar, the former for the home team. The souvenirs and the photographs on the way to the dressing rooms make a player feel special.

The Wankhede Stadium has given me the fondest memories of my career. I will never forget the celebrations inside the dressing room after we won the Ranji Trophy in 2003 – I was the captain then. When I sat there after it all, champagne flowing all around, it slowly sunk in that we had won the Ranji Trophy. It is a special feeling because you are there with the people who had made the success possible.

Mumbai, the home team, always take the dressing room on the left side at the Wankhede. Last season, when I was Bengal’s coach and we went there to play the final, it felt a bit strange when I turned to the right. The corridor that leads to the dressing rooms is full of photographs of players who have done well for Mumbai. When I saw my picture there, it gave me a sort of satisfaction that I had contributed to the team and that the association recognised it.

	Mr immovable: Because the likes of Mike Hussey go through struggle at each level, it's difficult to push them out of their national teams © Getty Images

As a cricketer it’s hard to look at the positives when you are out of the game, but with my injury I’ve been able to watch more cricket and think a bit more about different things in cricket. I have been watching the Australian domestic cricket on TV and this set my mind thinking. I was watching Michael Hussey playing the other day, and realised that there were many people pushing for his place in the team.

That’s very much the case in cricket here too, but there is a fundamental difference: professionalism, a term commonly used but rarely defined at the grassroots level. Professionalism is the single biggest difference between cricket in India, and say, cricket in Australia, which should be the benchmark for all of us.

The mindset in India is to get an education that will secure a job, and then think about how to get a particular salary. We’re used to that kind of a life, and that’s how we bring up our children. Parents need to realise that cricket now offers a decent standard of living and earning potential, and not just for international cricketers. They need to stop thinking they are taking a huge gamble with their child’s life if they let a child pursue sport as career. After all, in India cricket is not like, say, tennis, where individuals have to get their own sponsorships for expensive coaching, and then have to fund their own travel to international tournaments. There are many companies working with cricketers, there are sponsors, and even individuals, who are willing to help those who need it.

The associations, too, need to change their mindsets. At any given time, there are about 2000 to 3000 kids playing cricket in academies and coaching camps in Chennai alone. Obviously just the selectors and former cricketers can’t be spotting all the talent. People from associations, who run these academies, need to do that extra bit when they see a special talent. They should try and persuade the child’s parents to let the child pursue a life in cricket. While this might sound a bit intrusive, but it is sometimes needed. The media, too, is obsessed with icons, and understandably so, given that media houses exist to make a profit. But they too need to take the game at the lower levels more seriously.

Once cricket is seen as a possible profession, a youngster’s life can be so altered that cricket becomes second nature to him. After all, as professional cricketers, we are being paid to do what we do. My friends often tell me, “You cricketers earn a lot.” This is a silly way of looking at things. I concede that for the actual four days of a first-class match we are paid well, but a whole lot goes into making us deserving of playing those four days. Sometimes we end up doing more than what a person does at a regular day job.

At the same time, I understand what the common man means when he says that cricketers earn a lot. That is why all cricketers need to understand that in order to earn their pay, they need to go beyond runs and wickets. If one wants a job in a bank, one has to learn about finance in school and college and take a degree in a relevant subject. That is the groundwork one has to do. Similarly, there is certain groundwork that each cricketer needs to do, in order to earn and justify the earnings. I call it a player’s cricketing ethics.

It is possible to get a degree in Engineering by merely passing the exams and not really learning the concepts in depth, and also get a job based on that degree. Similarly, a cricketer can waste the opportunities in the nets and in training, and with some talent still play professional cricket. One has to work purposefully hard at training, at educating oneself in the right cricket ethics, because one is being paid to play, and at the same time it is a privilege to play first-class cricket. A first-class cricketer in India now earns close to Rs 1.5 lakh per Ranji match. If he doesn’t justify his pay as much as he possibly can, he is denying someone else this earning.

At the same time it is not so serious and tough; the enjoyment factor still has to be there, after all this is sport. But if we’re serious about improving as a cricketing nation, then cricketers need to take responsibility for professionalism. There’s no point just saying that we’ll win the next World Cup, in 2011, or the next one. We need to ask ourselves what we are actually doing to make that happen.

Firstly, we need to get our cricketing ethics right, and not just the players who are playing international cricket. We need to start with the kids, in the manner that a country like China starts preparing young children for the Olympics that may happen 8-12 years later. Rather than telling kids, “Perform, or you’ll be dropped”, we need to get a genuine cricket culture going. I’ve heard a lot about the sporting culture in Australia, and I’m sure that has not come about overnight. Similarly we need a change in mindset across the board, and it will take time.

Only if all these things happen, will we have a realistic chance of building a cricket team that can challenge Australia. I started with Hussey, and I’ll finish with him. Even with so many cricketers pushing for his place, he plays on, his game keeps developing all the time. It’s because he does not fear for his spot in the side. In India, when a cricketer is under pressure, everyone gets after him – the media, former players, selectors, even his own team-mates, but this doesn’t happen in Australia. That’s because their players have struggled at each level to climb up a very long ladder, and earned respect. That’s because they have strong cricketing ethics, and that’s what we need to emulate, not the end result.

	Being a reserve player is no easy job © AFP

The announcement of a team by the selectors for a match or tournament is greatly anticipated by all of us. Usually, in India, be it the national team or a first-class team, a squad of 15 players is named. We all get to see 11 players in action and can judge their skills and character on the field of play. But have you ever wondered what goes through the mind of players who are confined to the bench?

Most captains announce the playing XI before the day of the match and explain the role of each player. Players who are not picked are talked into how only 11 can play and how one can make a contribution to the team, or how he has to wait for his chances. However, till the toss and commencement of play, these reserve players have to be in a state of readiness if last-minute changes have to be made due to fitness issues or overnight changes in playing conditions.

Once it is certain you are confined to the reserves, some coaches keep a keen eye on the reaction of the player. He is expected to take the blow on the chin and not sulk, as if he does sulk, he is perceived to not be a team man. He is not expected to be relaxed and smile either as it could be taken that he is happy to be on the sidelines and does not want to play.

If the dressing rooms are small, the reserve player has to make room for the players, and in some rare instances, has to keep their kit bag in some adjoining room. He also has to ensure that he identifies each player’s kit bag so that he can cater to the requirement of the player like a sweater, glove, cap, shoe, etc.

Once the game begins, he has to work overtime to keep the players hydrated by making nimbu paani, salt water, electrol, or any carbo-drink and ensure adequate supply either on the boundary ropes or at the fall of a wicket if the side is fielding, and at any available instance when his side is batting.

He also has to play the role of a messenger and communicate to the captain or players in the middle about inputs regarding strategies, field placements or shot selection from the coach, or should I say coaches as there are at least three coaches as a part of the support staff now-a-days.

He has to understand and interpret sign convention; a batsman can ask for a change of grip, change of glove, a batting tape, cap, helmet and he makes the signals accordingly. One has to pick it up and respond quickly; players and coaches often let the reserves know sternly if there is any delay, if the players are not well looked after.

During breaks, if a player wants to dry his clothing or equipment, the reserve has to keep the stuff in the sunlight or use the dryer, if a washing machine is available. If the side is batting, the batsman might ask the reserve to bring him some lunch.

After catering to all these needs, the reserve has to train hard during the breaks, to ensure that he maintains his fitness levels as they are conceived to drop due to over-eating. They have to keep hitting balls to keep the form going, or bowl a few balls to keep the rhythm going, all during a lunch or a tea break and quickly return to the dressing room on resumption of play.

Often, during tournaments when there is less likelihood of a player playing, he does not get to bat in the net. A quiet word or reassurance from an understanding captain or coach can make a world of a difference to the reserves as they have to do all these duties selflessly.

All this is fine, but fringe players are often the soft target in the next team selection as the easiest way out for the selectors is to axe the player who has not got the opportunity to perform.

All I can suggest is, become such good and efficient players that you are picked in the playing XI quickly or stay at home as the longer you stay in the bench, the chances of progressing deteriorate.

	With proper guidance fast bowlers can reduce the amount of injuries they suffer © Cricinfo Ltd

Fast bowlers and injuries go hand in hand. They break down much more often than other players, and it has sometimes to do with lack of guidance at younger levels. For a youngster, a Shoaib Akhtar or a Brett Lee running in and bowling at close to 150kmph is an appealing sight. He wants to emulate what he sees; all he wants to do is run fast and scare a batsman.

When I was a youngster, I used to watch the India-Pakistan Tests and I only wanted to bowl like Kapil Dev and Imran Khan. At such a stage in one's career, there is a lot of enthusiasm and passion, but the skill isn't developed. This is where a good coach can help and eliminate injuries that are the bane of a fast bowler's life. At a young age, it is easy to get into bad habits, which may result in injuries at a later stage. For example if someone has a mixed action, when the lower body is side-on and the upper body is open-chested, he is only inviting the stress fracture of the back. Many careers have ended before they start because of lack of guidance at the foundation levels.

Once a player gets injured, a proper rehabilitation process plays a big part in rescuing his career. When I used to play, there were no physios or trainers with the team: the masseur would do every job. The only advice an injured player would get is, "Take rest." Then he would take rest, stay away for a couple of months, and come back feeling he is okay. But because he hadn't gone through proper rehabilitation, he would break down again and get frustrated and leave the game.

When a player is injured, he is desperate to get back to playing cricket at the highest level; he doesn't want to miss a single game. But if there is a physio, he can let him know what extent he can push himself to. The player is usually ready to take the plunge, but he needs a guide to tell him what lengths he go to.

I went through a shoulder injury in 1993 and was off cricket for four months. The only person I could go to then was my family physio, Sandhya Waingankar. I would travel all the way to see her by train. It would take me 45 minutes to one hour and sometimes I would do that twice a day. At that time that was all I could do, I didn't have access to anybody else.

Things have changed now; we have become much more professional and aware. Nowadays the traveling physio can minimise the impact of the injury in the first few hours, which are crucial. Still, there is a lack of quality trainers and physios who specialise in sport. If a player gets into improper rehabilitation, the amount of stress he goes through affects his performance, and often he gets injured again. If the injury occurs during the season, it's likely he stays out for that season and sets himself up for another.

SS Paul is an example of how a player should go about with his rehabilitation. He had a knee injury last season, had to undergo a surgery, and missed the entire season. But I made sure that he travelled with the team. He would go the grounds and dressing rooms, even if he was not playing. That kept him in touch with the physio and the trainer, and also his team-mates. This season he has come back well and looks fit.

Once a player has recovered he should make sure he plays some club cricket before he starts playing first-class cricket. There is cricket throughout the year in Mumbai, while that is not possible with many other associations. These club matches give the players a chance to test themselves, and players need to think in those terms as well.

It is surely frustrating when a player sees his friends and competitors playing and knows he can't play. But this is something he has to accept and get on with. It has happened many times that a player knows he is just about 80 per cent recovered, but still goes ahead and plays the first game of the season. By doing that, he risks another injury and lets the team down as well. It is a long journey back from an injury, which involves a lot of hard work, patience, medical expertise, and at times frustration. But once you have got injured, there are few alternatives or short-cuts.