Not just cricket: The political game within the game

There is now almost irrefutable evidence that Indian cricketers have, since 2013, failed to cope with pressure at the knockout stages of ICC (International Cricket Council) competitions. Having more often than not performed impressively in the group or run-up phase of championships, they have succumbed where there was no second chance.

As one who has followed Indian cricket professionally for over 50 years, I was confident, given home advantage, India would win the 2011 World Cup after they beat Australia in the quarters-finals.

The Aussies—as the most successful side in cricket history—are every team’s stumbling block. Even when they are not at their best—as was the case in the just-concluded World Cup in India—they are a force to reckon with, because of their inherent confidence and mental and tactical strength.

I had calculated that the Indian Premier League (IPL) since 2008 had exposed the Indian players to a regular experience of tight finishes, not to mention a frequent clash of swords with the world’s best cricketers. Therefore, when India triumphed in the World Cup in 2011 and followed this by lifting the Champions Trophy in 2013, I had reason to believe my assessment was fairly correct.

Two things happened in the 2014–15 period. There was a change in the Indian captaincy. Mahendra Singh Dhoni passed the baton to Virat Kohli. And there was a significant transfer of power at the Centre in India, resulting in an encompassing transformation in the national attitude and culture.

This should not have mattered in the sporting sphere, but unfortunately appears to have. There was an appropriation by the powers-that-be of every potential propaganda tool in the country, and a replacement of patriotism by jingoism, of sportsmanship by crude partisanship.

It is easy for the Indian cricket squad to claim they insulate themselves from the outside world and remain in their bubble, that they strictly concentrate on the job at hand. The new and nasty world of social media makes that impossible. It irresistibly adds to the pressure they experience when national prestige is at stake.

Under Dhoni’s calmness and without any expectation from the Indian public, a bunch of second stringers won the inaugural World Twenty20 tournament (now known as the Twenty20 World Cup). Kohli did not possess Dhoni’s calm, his unflappability. Notably, India’s most standout showing—of beating Australia in a Test series Down Under in 2020–21—during his regime occurred in his absence, when Ajikya Rahane deputised as skipper.

After his stunning success in 2007, Dhoni went on to lead India to the pinnacle in the 2011 World Cup and the 2013 Champions Trophy. Kohli, on the other hand, could not capture a single ICC title as captain. India fared below par in the 2015 and 2021 Twenty20 World Cups, the first at home, and in the 2019 50-over World Cup in England and lost the 2021 World Test Championship (WTC) final to New Zealand at Southampton while he was in charge.

Rohit Sharma is in the sangfroid mould and ingrained with a Mumbai gharana cricketing disposition. Yet, he, too, could not conjure success either in the 2022 Twenty20 World Cup or in the WTC final in June. Now he’s come unstuck at the ultimate hurdle in the World Cup.

Last Sunday, the Indian XI was, on paper, superior to their Australian counterpart. But they were outwitted by the Aussies, who read the pitch better and withstood pressure more sturdily. They out-thought and outplayed India.

I was reminded of 1983, when India unexpectedly encountered difficulty against Zimbabwe at Tunbridge Wells. Victory in that game proved to be a true morale booster and turning point for the Indians. They went on to defeat Australia, England and the West Indies in that order to win the World Cup.

For Australia, that Zimbabwe moment came against Afghanistan, when they similarly pulled the chestnuts out of the fire. There was, as events have outlined, no looking back thereafter.

In cricket, because of the disproportionate Indian investment in it, India are competitive on the face of it, but not, in a sustained manner, better than advanced countries such as England and Australia.

But the sport is incrementally featuring developing or under-developed countries. Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Afghanistan, not to mention Zimbabwe, with Nepal knocking on the door.

New Zealand and South Africa do not fall into this category. It is no coincidence that India are yet to win a Test series against the Proteas on their soil.

Until 2014, irrespective of a few bumps on the way, India were chugging along nicely. Subsequently, Indians have been misled into believing they are vishwagurus, for such is the message from the new, national dispensation. Bitter and shattering is the feeling, then, when the outcome belies the make-believe environment.

Parallel to that is a Modified, overarching and petty ambition of subduing Pakistan, whose cricket board’s finances are tight and where parents caution their children about playing cricket—for it is deemed un-Islamic by the terrorism-inclined Taliban. Whereas getting the better of Australia, England, South Africa and New Zealand should be the priority.

The corporates who bankroll Indian cricket and cricketers, the hundreds of millions of Indians who follow the game without quite appreciating its finer points, and treat it as a means of ventilating their communalism and chauvinism, have become a downright nuisance.

They are responsible for the undue pressure on the Indian cricketers. Remember the hate stream aimed at Kohli’s wife and rape threats to his infant daughter when he was passing through a bad patch and the trolling of star bowler Mohammed Shami.

Even the Aussie matchwinner Travis Head has not been spared by these goons masquerading as cricket fans: his wife and daughter, too, have been targets of intimidation on Instagram.

They seem to have no idea how unpopular the Indian cricket side have become to non-Indians because of them and the BCCI (Board of Control for Cricket in India) untastefully throwing their weight around. Former Australian captain Ricky Ponting reportedly told Britain’s Sky Sports: “Even with so much control and hold over world cricket, India has lost yet another tournament. Money can’t buy success and time and again teams like Australia, New Zealand and Pakistan have proved that.” Ouch! That last reference would’ve hit where it hurts.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s graceless conduct after India’s defeat, at the stadium now named after him, has not gone unnoticed either. His sour and visibly unsporting presentation of the World Cup trophy to Cummins was unsightly and embarrassing. His theatrics in the Indian dressing room, no doubt with an eye to the ongoing elections in five states, were condemnable.

Chants of ‘Jai Shri Ram’ and ‘Bharat Mata Ki Jai’ from the crowd and the occasional blaring from loudspeakers at the grounds of ‘Vande Mataram’ were dead giveaways of the political game within the game. (When asked by Jawaharlal Nehru via Subhas Bose if Vande Mataram should be sung at Congress party functions, the poet laureate Rabindranath Tagore had said that only the first two stanzas were acceptable; that the remainder of Bankim Chatterjee’s lyrics were highly communal and deprecating of Muslims.)

Adolf Hitler’s cunning objective was to take advantage of the 1936 Berlin Olympics by propagating racial and German–Aryan supremacy. One of his moves was to supplement the German national anthem with the Nazi paratroopers’ song. His grand design was defeated, of course, by Jesse Owens, a black American, winning the 100 metres gold; and by the Indians (taunted as negers or niggers in parts of southern Germany) trouncing the Germans 8-1 in the hockey final.

(Ashis Ray is the author of 'Cricket World Cup: The Indian Challenge'. He can be found on X @ashiscray)