Aussie wicketkeeping A.G.....and B.G

Cannot curse my current busy work schedule enough for encroaching upon that 'final frontier' in my personal life: following the last India-v-Australia Test series of this decade.

I missed the entire 2nd Day's play at Bangalore. Today, the 3rd day, was a Saturday and yet I did not get a chance to watch a single delivery live on television. Worse, I failed to catch up with the scorecard after the tea time score of India limping at 195/6.

Coming back home I rushed on to Neo sports and found solace in an ongoing highlights package. Solace stayed for a moment and disappeared soon. I felt a pang. 'Coz the man in baggy green keeping wickets during the Indian innings was not the guy that I would have loved to be seen there forever. There was Hayden at his familiar 1st slip position. There was Ponting with his old signalling habits, Clarke making Indian batsmen look like his bunnies once again, Lee generating the same effortless pace but not the same guy to collect those perfume balls.

It hurt to remember that Lara and Gilly are not playing Test cricket anymore. I removed the sentiments and got back to the game on hand.

I had a second look at the man behind the stumps. By now he had stopped sticking out like a gold coloured button on a black shirt. I recalled that I had liked this guy for his gritty and positive displays at every opportunity he got. I have not seen too much of his keeping but his batting should be as good that of the guy on the other side of Gilly,Ian Healy, which was bloody bad enough for opponents going by the occasions he chose to rise to.

And then I discovered what I did not expect. Watching Brad Haddin in whites for the first time I thought his persona has glimpses of Ian Healy himself. Not to say that the two men look like identical twins; but I thought I saw a reflection of Healy in the stature, manner and movements of Brad Haddin. If you are wondering if it was an illusion effected by tears welling up at the grief of losing Gilchrist, I suggest you have a peek at the photos below.

I have sampled 7 pics apiece of the two Aussie keepers on either side of Adam Gilchrist from cricinfo photos. The 1st four pix cover their keeping, the fifth pic shows them celebrating dismissals, the 6th & 7th ones are snaps of their batting.

Haddin pic 1, 2, 3, 4; Healy pic 1, 2, 3, 4

Haddin pic 5; Healy pic 5

Haddin pic 6, 7; Healy pic 6, 7

Let me know what you thought.

Footnote: I shall be unfair to Brad Haddin if I fail to add that he is a classier batsman than Ian Healy. The pics 6 & 7 are adequate indicators. By the way, that "A.G." in the title really stands for "After Gilchrist", even if you found that too horrendous after guessing so.

WG_T20

17th May, 2058

I switch on the wall telly as soon as the doctor leaves after routine check up. News channels focus on huge celebrations taking place in India in memory of completing 60 years of summer cricket. Playing cricket in the month of May was unthinkable in 20th century India till then BCCI chief Jagmohan Dalmiya decided to utilise the 'free' time of Indian cricket in 1998 to promote some of the minnows and in the process rake in some extra money for the cricket board. He obtained a schedule from ICC that allowed India to play Kenya and Bangladesh in an ODI tri-series organised in May. It was best remembered for Sourav Ganguly needing mid-innings medical attention for dehydration in the final at his sweltering home ground, Eden Gardens. Strange that he was okay in the previous match at Gwalior where it was drier but the temperature was 10 degress higher. Clearly humidity was as much a killjoy for cricketers then as it is now.

It strikes me that the Indian Premier League are also completing 50 years in 2058. Summer cricket, not explored for a few years after that daring Dalmiya experiment in 1998, came back to stay ten years later in a shorter format. It is ironic that Twenty20 was then the shortest format in cricket. It is the longest one now, at least in the international game. One dayers are extinct. 2-innings cricket is too archaic a form to be pursued on a professional level these days. Nevertheless it is still retained by the respective boards as a test of stamina for bowlers and innings building ability for batsmen, because each team needs at least 3 batsmen and 2 bowlers who are good in 2-innings cricket in order to last these twenty overs with honour.

I casually go through some old blog posts on my Blogger diary 'Pavilion View' and check out my recorded thoughts through a half-century window. I come across an interesting bit of history in an IPL match from the 1st edition. Apparently it took place exactly 50 years back, on 17-May-2008. I feel the urge to have a chat on that bit with my new old friend in early 20th century. My ailing body tells me to refrain but cricket still blurs the logic at times.

I gte up and walk to my arm-band time traveller on the table. This time traveller is an advanced release and cost me a fortune. Not only does it take me across time but it also allows me to cover any distance. I use it to go back by a hundred and fifty exact years.

17th May, 1908

Presently I land up in front of an obese ageing man in England who will celebrate his 60th birthday on July 18. I meet him so often these days; yet it is difficult to place him as the bearded doctor everyone knows. He looks so different from his photographs.

He looks pleased to have me back.

"Was feeling bored - good time for you to come. Should you start bowling?"

"Hello WG. I want to share something with you."

"Don't worry about it. Just tell me what bothers you."

" I told you about this new form of the game called Twenty20."

"That 3 hour mimicry of cricket where players will get tons of money for doing next to nothing? Haven't we had ENOUGH of that? It irritates me no end."

"But perhaps I did not share that not only are the players playing it in coloured clothes but also using their surnames on jersey backs."

"You have already told me that 6 times, old man."

"And the game is most popular in India and thereabouts, rather than your England and Australia."

"That is again a repetition. Is this all you can put up today?" I am pissing the doctor more than a bowler turning his back on him and asking a loud question to the umpire about the doctor's leg. I carry on regardless.

"And that a hundred years to this day one 'born for T20' umpire from New Zealand, Billy Bowden, will utter 'khelo' instead of 'play' to start the proceedings of an IPL T20 match."

"THAT sounds a new one. By the way, did you not use that 'born for T20' term once before?"

"Yes. Who's being forgetful now? I used that for the revolutionary Sri Lankan opening batsman cum wicketkeeper Romesh Kaluwitharana who retired before T20 came about."

"Yeah, from what I learnt from you about Romesh it may be a lament comparable to the world never seeing the exciting Gilbert Jessop play limited overs cricket. That century of him against Australia in 1902 is difficult to put aside. Folks would have loved to have him down there in 21st century."

WG stands up and walks away pensively. "I still cannot believe that a Kiwi umpire will mouth Indian words in front of live audience while officiating." He turns to me, appreciation dripping from his countenance. "This, more than all you said on the Darell Hair affair the day before, tells me a lot more about India's influence over the game in 21st century! To think most of us here still dread visiting India..."

Innovation XI

Chanced upon a different kind of one day XI on Will Luke's 'The Corridor'. It is not the best XI or the most successful XI. It is a Dream Team of XI guys that have contributed the most towards alteration of the international one day game for the better.

Across the decades since 1971 when the first official one day international match was played, each of these pioneers left a new taste to savour in the shorter version of the game with a distinctively unique and effective approach to his individual role.

Gutsy Glovemen

Where do these wicketkeepers buy their gall from? Many other cricketers have the stuff too but the keepers’ variety looks like a different brand altogether. It just keeps oozing out of their persona without them trying. That customary chirp with the batsmen, that pep talk for the boys between overs and during them, that nervous energy in anticipation of another pouch – it all comes to them naturally.

Expectedly in a game as mental and lengthy as cricket you get a generous helping of the strong silent types, people who prefer to stack their guts below the stomach and away from the public view. Batsmen contribute the most numbers to this lot, those “give him a bat and he becomes a character” types. But follow a keeper at work and chances are he’ll radiate his pluck even as he repairs the broken stumps. If team performance is a buggy riding on four wheels i.e., batting, bowling, fielding and captaincy, then the wicketkeeper resembles the axle of the 10-spoke fielding wheel. There’s a difference though: the noisier this axle is, the better this wheel functions.

Interestingly in their demeanour they all remind us of one another. It has little bearing on the way each bats. He may be a tear-‘em-apart bat like Gilly / Dhoni, a smart cameo player like Boucher / McCullum, a class act with the willow in the Sangakkara mould or a plain and simple blood and guts man that you want to bat for your life, like West Indian Ridley Jacobs or the inimitable Ian Healy. The rule is same for each of them: give him a pair of gloves and he becomes a character, a kind of second lieutenant who takes control of the players and allows his captain to plan their next move.

There’s a new addition to this lot. It is Paul Nixon of England. He is every inch the wicketkeeper your team needs competing in an event of this magnitude. I am only watching him in action for the first time today as he plays in the second consecutive nail-biter in the making. But I have little doubts that he must have played a significant role in the England we see in this tournament, an England that, though far from dependable, are at least prepared not to be the first ones to blink.

No thought on modern wicketkeepers can be complete without a mention of Khaled Mashud, the Bangladeshi avatar. He is the one who hit a six off the first ball of the final over and remained unbeaten on a 7 ball 15 to finally turn an unforgettable, seesawing, rain-affected 1997 ICC trophy final match against Kenya in his country’s favour, a result that went a long way in waking the cricket world up to Bangladesh and supporting their subsequent claim to Test playing status.

It is ten years hence. The Mashud that played for Bangladesh a year back was already past his prime with bat as well as gloves and it is only logical that a younger man has replaced Mashud, the last survivor of that 1997 ICC trophy winning side.

If their Group B encounter with India develops into a close call (somehow I get this feeling that it would) - the sort with the underdogs needing quite a few in the nerve-jangling final overs - the Bangla boys would need to summon belief in their ability to pull through from a few sweet memories of the recent past. Memories of the glorious exploits of their ex-gloveman on that 1997 afternoon at Kuala Lumpur should do them no harm in that regard.

How do we keep THEM?

Amidst stars old and new, shining and falling, promising and delivering, the performance of wicketkeepers of each of the three “India”s participating in this year’s Challengers’ trophy provoked a thought . How do we keep them?

Parthiv Patel first. We have seen his gloved journey from youthful brilliance to loss of lustre to losing the entire plot as a specialist keeper. All through that though he has showed impressive improvement in every outing with the bat. Aged 16, he saved a crucial away Test match on debut. Then on he kept building on his nudges and pushes to emerge as a dependable lower middle order bat who could score fluently either side of the wicket and, importantly, would not cower in adverse situations. He shone with the bat in his two Challenger matches this year (just as he did last year). His latest performances could have helped him pose serious threat for almost any keeper playing in the national side. But unfortunately it isn’t ‘any keeper’ that he is up against.

Parthiv’s continued rotten form with the gloves in 2004 brought us to Dinesh Karthik. In his 1st ODI he effected a fantastic airborne stumping [while falling away from the stumps] to tilt a low scoring close match in favour of India and thereafter most things that he and the other keepers in India (Dhoni included) have done could only cement the belief that Dinesh is arguably the best amongst Indian glovemen who can bat decently. Like Parthiv he does not cower in pressure situations either and demonstrated his qualities in front of the stumps in the 2005 Test series against Pakistan. And like Parthiv he’s only 21. Dinesh shone with the bat too in this Challenger trophy. But just like his predecessor (again) his efforts are also certain to go unrewarded.

When Dinesh Karthik got relieved from national duties he did not need to lose form with either bat or glove to get replaced by Mahendra Singh Dhoni in a one day squad. That would be true for any wicketkeeper in the history of one day internationals barring Adam Gilchrist. Dhoni proved just that point during the just-concluded 2006 Challenger series. Essentially Indian selectors are left with no choice but to refute the claims of a good keeper-batsman, Dinesh, and a decent batsman-keeper, Parthiv, for both ODI and Test selections because of the irresistible package that is MSD. And that may be a bit of a tragedy in the making.

There is little doubt in my mind that sooner or later Dhoni is going to become a full fledged middle order batsman in Tests and maybe even in the ODI’s at a more advanced age. In other words Dhoni will do a Dravid when he reaches thirty. [He should, if you ask me.] The role change may come due to a change in his batting temperament, or due to declining glovework in the face of added batting responsibity with increasing seniority, or both. That will open up a possibility of Karthik or Patel - even both - getting national call-up(s) for the specialist keeper’s role in Tests and / or one dayers half a decade hence. But can they keep themselves in the hunt for that long a period? Are they single minded enough to survive the guaranteed snub of the intervening years?

Indian cricket is notorious for letting young and promising cricketers lose heart and focus after their first brushes with failure. Out of a batch of 5 or 6 promising young cricketers inducted into the national cricket team in the mid 80’s only Azharuddin made it into the 90’s. It was the same with another batch of rookies in early 90’s of which only one Sourav Ganguly had the heart and the luck to make a grand comeback half a decade later.

This is one of those areas where the national selectors need to step in with a vision and decisive action plan for the future, a future that does not end with their respective tenures. They need to share that vision with the zonal cricket bodies and selection committees. They need to talk to the young aspirants and explain to them the vital role planned for them in the future provided they stay focussed. A Colonel has been posted on the warfront and he knows that his job is far beyond everyday paperwork.

Keep the keepers focussed, Colonel. We will need them.

Sada - for ever

On occasions that are getting rarer by the day, I find time to turn over the pages of Sunil Gavaskar's 'One day Wonders' and the one thought that inevitably comes back to me each time is: "What exactly happened to that audacious nut of a keeper called Sadanand Viswanath?"

Pre-Ganguly, chirpy players were a rare breed in India and Sadanand Viswanath is absolutely the earliest bird of that feather that I can remember (naturally, as I started cricket viewing in 1985). His mannerisms and energy are amongst the few remaining memories of that victorious 1985 World Series Cup campaign by India.

The mid eighties was a strange time for Indian Cricket. Quite a few young cricketers with obvious calibre gatecrashed into the Indian cricket team with remarkable initial success but then almost all of them disappeared from the scene just as quickly. Laxman Sivaramakrishnan the leggie (and brilliant fielder), Maninder Singh the left arm spinner (and brilliant fielder), Narendra Hirwani the leggie (not as great a fielder, perhaps). The quickest of those shock demises that set Indian cricket by a few years must have been Sadanand Viswanath's.

Here's a long-awaited chat with 'Sada' (as we all referred to him back in our household and neighbourhood during his glory days) that Sportstar has thankfully managed to come up with. He shares a few memories of his honour and his misfortune in the tete-a-tete.

Catch me if you can!

This post on Caught Behind acted like a lid opener to a pressure can inside me that can keep on talking about catching and fielding. So off I go and make not one or two or three but a SEVEN-post series on Indian catching and everything that I could think of about it. They are scheduled to be posted one-a-day on cricinfo, and this is the first of them.

Update [23/12/2006]: The full series is out now! The sequel posts: # 2,3,4,5,6 & 7. [Seventh one's on wicketkeeping]