When coach Brendon McCullum flew over from New Zealand to tell Jimmy Anderson, England’s most successful Test bowler that his time was up, it was a tribute to both parties. That Anderson had the intensity to keep going and needed a tap on the shoulder spoke for his competitive spirit.

That McCullum flew nearly 18,000 kilometres to speak to the player told us of the kind of coach he is and suggested one of the reasons for England’s success under the great communicator.

Contrast this with how the Indian administration has sometimes handled such issues. When the team was returning from the 1979 tour of England, the pilot on the flight announced that skipper Venkatraghavan had just been sacked. This was the first Venkatraghavan was hearing of it.

Fantastic figures

Anderson, who will be 42 in July, is likely to play his 188th and final Test against West Indies at Lord’s the same month. Only Sachin Tendulkar (200) has played more. And only Mutthiah Muralitharan (800) and Shane Warne (708) have taken more wickets than Anderson’s 700. That he claimed 220 of them after the age of 35 and at a better average is indication that he got better with age. That, of course didn’t mean he would realise his full potential at 50!

For some years after his debut, Anderson carried two burdens. One, that he was effective only in home conditions where the ball swung, and two, that while he was capable of the magic ball any time, he seemed more enamoured by the dot ball. Yet, when England won a series in India after 28 years in 2012-13, skipper Mahendra Singh Dhoni said the difference between the teams was Jimmy Anderson.

Anderson said he had learnt the art of the reverse swing from Zaheer Khan, and in an interview once admitted that his famous wobble ball was a bit of a lottery since it was impossible to control. Few players have spoken with such honesty about their craft.

Yet, for all its dignity and humanism, it seemed incongruous that it needed a coach’s nudge before that obvious decision was made. Perhaps Anderson himself was relieved it had been taken out of his hands. Most sportsmen have an instinct for recognising when the time comes. But great ones sometimes don’t, because they have often come out of slumps in the past and think they can again.

Anderson’s five wickets in four matches in the Ashes series at 85.4 was a hint he refused to acknowledge. He struggled in India (except for a magical spell in Visakhapatnam), but kept repeating a variation of “I am as fit as I have been; I am at my best now”, statements he had made in the past.

Yet, even if he got his timing slightly wrong, it didn’t detract from his stature as one of the greats of the game. It would have to be between him and Glenn McGrath for the title of the finest bowler of their type in modern times.

McGrath hit his groove early, and finished with nearly the same average bowling at home or away. Yet it was Anderson who might win the argument as a player who asked more questions more consistently of batters who were conscious of the fact that the near-unplayable ball was just around the corner — and he could bend it as few could.

Reinventing

Anderson played for longer and reinvented himself periodically, cutting pace for accuracy and bowling with a grace and seeming lack of effort which is one of the game’s great sights. He was experimenting with a new run-up at 41. “His ability to keep wanting to improve has been extraordinary,” wrote his former captain and friend Alastair Cook.

Anderson has played 70% of all the Tests England have since his debut. That, for a fast bowler is an incredible record, testimony to his skill, fitness, hunger, success, consistency and ability to improve.

Should players be allowed the time and place for the final goodbye? It can be a tribute to long years of service (Anderson made his debut in 2003) as well as a profitable marketing ploy. Anderson’s time had come. He was allowed to choose the place. It is a happy compromise.

File picture of England bowler James Anderson celebrating a wicket at Lord’s Cricket Ground
| Photo Credit: Getty Images

When coach Brendon McCullum flew over from New Zealand to tell Jimmy Anderson, England’s most successful Test bowler, that his time was up, it was a tribute to both parties. That Anderson had the intensity to keep going and needed a tap on the shoulder spoke for his competitive spirit.

That McCullum flew nearly 18,000 kilometres to speak to the player told us of the kind of coach he is and suggested one of the reasons for England’s success under the great communicator.

ALSO READ | Will leave a huge hole: Stuart Broad on England’s bowling attack after James Anderson’s retirement

Contrast this with how the Indian administration has sometimes handled such issues. When the team was returning from the 1979 tour of England, the pilot on the flight announced that skipper Venkatraghavan had just been sacked. This was the first Venkatraghavan was hearing of it.

Fantastic figures

Anderson, who will be 42 in July, is likely to play his 188th and final Test against West Indies at Lord’s the same month. Only Sachin Tendulkar (200) has played more. And only Mutthiah Muralitharan (800) and Shane Warne (708) have taken more wickets than Anderson’s 700. That he claimed 220 of them after the age of 35 and at a better average is indication that he got better with age. That, of course didn’t mean he would realise his full potential at 50!

For some years after his debut, Anderson carried two burdens. One, that he was effective only in home conditions where the ball swung, and two, that while he was capable of the magic ball any time, he seemed more enamoured by the dot ball. Yet, when England won a series in India after 28 years in 2012-13, skipper Mahendra Singh Dhoni said the difference between the teams was Jimmy Anderson.

Anderson said he had learnt the art of the reverse swing from Zaheer Khan, and in an interview once admitted that his famous wobble ball was a bit of a lottery since it was impossible to control. Few players have spoken with such honesty about their craft.

Yet, for all its dignity and humanism, it seemed incongruous that it needed a coach’s nudge before that obvious decision was made. Perhaps Anderson himself was relieved it had been taken out of his hands. Most sportsmen have an instinct for recognising when the time comes. But great ones sometimes don’t, because they have often come out of slumps in the past and think they can again.

Anderson’s five wickets in four matches in the Ashes series at 85.4 was a hint he refused to acknowledge. He struggled in India (except for a magical spell in Visakhapatnam), but kept repeating a variation of “I am as fit as I have been; I am at my best now”, statements he had made in the past.

Yet, even if he got his timing slightly wrong, it didn’t detract from his stature as one of the greats of the game. It would have to be between him and Glenn McGrath for the title of the finest bowler of their type in modern times.

McGrath hit his groove early, and finished with nearly the same average bowling at home or away. Yet it was Anderson who might win the argument as a player who asked more questions more consistently of batters who were conscious of the fact that the near-unplayable ball was just around the corner — and he could bend it as few could.

Reinventing

Anderson played for longer and reinvented himself periodically, cutting pace for accuracy and bowling with a grace and seeming lack of effort which is one of the game’s great sights. He was experimenting with a new run-up at 41. “His ability to keep wanting to improve has been extraordinary,” wrote his former captain and friend Alastair Cook.

Anderson has played 70% of all the Tests England have since his debut. That, for a fast bowler is an incredible record, testimony to his skill, fitness, hunger, success, consistency and ability to improve.

Should players be allowed the time and place for the final goodbye? It can be a tribute to long years of service (Anderson made his debut in 2003) as well as a profitable marketing ploy. Anderson’s time had come. He was allowed to choose the place. It is a happy compromise.

Mumbai Indian Captain Hardik Pandya with Rohit Sharma during a practice session
| Photo Credit: VIJAY SONEJI

Every year the IPL gives rise to many non-stories and irrelevancies. This year (so far) it is the saga of Hardik Pandya versus the fans of Rohit Sharma (and the fans of his own earlier team). Perhaps it’s seen as a change from all that six-hitting which can get tiresome. It has the advantage too of taking the conversation away from stuff like which Bollywood star was seen at which match.

But the ‘booing’ strategy lacks imagination. It is too generalised. As many have reported, Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar are among those who have had the experience. But surely in the thousands of spectators across the country, there is someone with a sense of humour, someone who can raise a heckle without raising a hackle.

ALSO READ | Fan wars should never take ugly route: Ashwin supports Hardik Pandya

Reports that suggest Pandya is the first Indian to be subjected to such treatment are wrong. In his playing days, Ravi Shastri was greeted at virtually every ground in India with cries of ‘Hai, hai Shastri’. Not for anything he did, but because of spectator perceptions.

Shastri incident

This ‘hai’ is not a synonym of ‘hello’ but a jeer. Shastri dealt with this with remarkable maturity, ignoring it, and as he said, using it as motivation to play better. Tiger Pataudi has written about how close-in fielders stopped sledging him when they discovered it only caused him to concentrate harder.

For a brief period, Shastri was addressed by friends as ‘Hai, hai Shastri’; occasionally, when he greeted someone with a ‘Hi so-and-so’, the response he got had two ‘Hi’s’ in it. In the 80s and 90s everyone thought this was hilarious.

Playing well is the best revenge. Perhaps Pandya should have a chat with Shastri, although he isn’t doing too badly himself, calling the heckling the crowd’s way of saying how much it loves him.

It may have begun as fans’ displeasure at his replacing a beloved captain of Mumbai Indians (according to one report, no Pandya jerseys were on sale outside the Wankhede, with enterprising vendors pushing the Rohit Sharma jersey, having assessed the mood). It will continue till the various spectators find something else to occupy them. After a while the original reasons are forgotten, and the crowd is just having fun. Neither the cricket board nor the local authorities need to get involved even if sections of the media want them to.

Sporting tradition

Heckling is an age-old sporting tradition, and so long as it doesn’t spill over into toxicity with racist, religious or sexual abuse or invectives against family (and there are sensible rules to deal with these), no one can complain. But as players ignore the jibes, the temptation to raise the temperature to provoke a reaction may be strong. Humour (“I wish you were a statue and I a pigeon,” as one heckler in Sydney called out to a player) tends to be inclusive while abuse excludes or ‘others’ the recipient.

Heckling is a gift, calling for a range of gifts not available to everybody at a match. Imagine a stadium full of spectators sitting silently and perhaps nodding their heads occasionally when the batter hits a six or a cover point misfields. The barracker brings to spectatorship an enjoyment and an involvement that is unique.

Cricket’s most original heckler, ‘Yabba’ (Stephen Harold Gascoigne), the author of the above witticism, has been immortalised with a statue at the Sydney Cricket Ground. He sits in typical heckler’s pose, with right hand a half-cup beside his mouth. He was funny, knew the players’ stories and had a voice that carried — three important and necessary qualities.

Game rich in humour

Cricket is a game rich in humour, but publicly neither the media-trained players (“I bowled in the right areas”) nor the player-pleasing media is likely to cause laughter in the stands with a funny line. That is left to the spectator, and if he doesn’t oblige, the game is the poorer.

Sharmila Tagore tells a lovely story of someone sitting near her during a Test match yelling at her after husband Tiger Pataudi had misfielded a ball. “I told you to behave yourself last night,” he screamed. That was funny enough. What was funnier was that the yeller was her father. Passion for the game manifests itself in different ways.

Kuldeep Yadav celebrates a wicket during the third Test match between India and England at Rajkot
| Photo Credit: VIJAY SONEJI

He might look like an accountant accidentally woken up by an alarm beeping too early, hair dishevelled and on the point of complaining. But the smile is never far from Kuldeep Yadav’s eyes, suggesting he enjoys a laugh against himself. “I have become mature,” he told the media at the end of the series against England where he took 19 wickets and brought left-arm wrist spin to the forefront of cricket conversations.

The craft appeals to the romantics. The wrist spinner is capable of looking like a genius one day and a novice the next, adding to the glorious uncertainties.

Since making his debut seven years ago, Kuldeep has played just 12 Tests while missing 56 that India played in that period. You need a sense of humour to survive such vicissitudes. And to retain both fitness and passion while spending so much time on the sidelines. He went back to the drawing board, worked on his run up and his pace as well as his batting and has become the bowler he wanted to be.

May soon be spearhead

India’s discovery of new stars (Dhruv Jurel, Sarfaraz Khan, Akash Deep) and ratification of the potential of a recent one (Yashasvi Jaiswal) have been touted as the gains of the series, which they are. But equally important has been the confirmation of the quality and class of their third spinner who might soon be the spearhead of the spin attack.

Kuldeep, 29, made his mark over a decade ago and now, as he says, he has begun to understand his bowling. It is a difficult art, one of the toughest in the game. Most left-arm spinners, from Wilfred Rhodes to Bishan Bedi experimented with wrist spin early on, and then decided that orthodox finger spin, where the ball spins away from the bat is the better option. Garry Sobers bowled in both styles, but there is no record of how many of his 235 Test wickets were earned by wrist spin.

Wrist spinners tend to be, by the nature of their craft, expensive and inconsistent. It takes a captain who understands this to handle Kuldeep, and Rohit Sharma showed he understood both the bowler and the bowling well. He didn’t hesitate from berating Kuldeep when he fell short nor did he ignore the arm-around-the-shoulder treatment that paid such dividends.

When Kuldeep started his career, the ball bowled that went the other way was referred to as the ‘chinaman’, a term now thankfully erased from the game. This was ostensibly because a West Indies player of Chinese origin, Ellis Achong was believed to have been the first to use it. An English batter stumped off such a delivery walked away cursing. It may be an apocryphal story, though. In any case, he was insulting the bowler rather than christening a new delivery.

Two Yorkshiremen, Roy Kilner and Maurice Leyland might have bowled that delivery a decade earlier, the name suggestive of either eastern magic or the conviction that it could only dismiss a batter who hadn’t played cricket. Kilner was a man of charm who contracted typhoid while coaching in India and died at 37. Over a lakh turned up for his funeral in his hometown. Leyland was better known as a feisty batter who averaged over 50 against Australia. Leyland claimed he was the one to name the delivery because it was ‘foreign’ and couldn’t be called anything else.

Kuldeep may not be aware of the anecdotal history behind the delivery he bowls so well . He may not know that he figures in a novel by John Le Carre who wrote the following in his Agent Running in the Field: “I discuss with the parents of our future daughter-in-law such issues as Britain’s post-Brexit trade relations and the tortuous bowling action of India’s spin bowler Kuldeep Yadav…”

Not that it matters. He is capable of bowling the near-unplayable ball, and that should suffice. The ball that got a set Zak Crawley began its journey as if intending to spin across the face of the bat but then seemed to change its mind and crash into the stumps. This was one of the best of the series.

“It wasn’t always easy,” Kuldeep tweeted a couple of years ago, “but it has been worth it.” Cricket lovers agree.

File picture of India’s Dhruv Jurel and Akash Deep during net practice. The pair were instrumental in India’s win over England in the 4th Test at Ranchi
| Photo Credit: Vijay Soneji

One is a war veteran’s son who threatened to run away from home if his father didn’t buy him a kit and allow him to play cricket; another, in effect, did run away and started out in another city. A third sold pani puri off a cart, a fourth spoke delicately about how “things weren’t financially strong at home.” They are, respectively, Dhruv Jurel, Akash Deep, Yashasvi Jaiswal, and Sarfaraz Khan who played key roles in India’s victory against England.

There’s more. Aged five, Jurel had an accident that required plastic surgery. A decade later, his mother had to sell off her gold ornament to get him a kit bag. Deep lost his father and a brother in a span of six months and left home because he “didn’t have anything to lose.”

What is sport without stories of valour and spirit, heroism and gallantry? What is a turning pitch or a wrong leg before decision when compared to the days and months of despondency guided by nothing more than hope and a belief in ultimate redemption? What are the odds of finally making it in a country of over a billion people? How many Jaiswals and Jurels have fallen by the wayside because they lacked the guidance or the single-mindedness of these two, and their ability to hold on to their dreams?

ALSO READ | Home run: On the Indian Test win 

There are too stories of the kindness of relatives and coaches, and of the good fortune of having talent spotted and worked on by those willing to back their judgement. Above all, there is the discipline, the hard work and unwillingness to give up by the Generation Next of Indian cricket.

Elements fitting together

So many elements have to fit together snugly like Lego pieces, before success, inevitable and consistent, is achieved. Some little thing going wrong somewhere at an early stage can have a disastrous final effect. When things work out, it is nothing short of a miracle; the butterfly effect can ruin dreams.

Not so long ago our best players came from the cities and traditional centres: Mumbai, Bengaluru, Kolkata, Delhi, Chennai. For a little over a generation now, they have emerged from the old backwaters. This continues. Jurel is from Agra, Jaiswal was born in Bhadohi, UP, Akash Deep in Sasaram in Bihar, where, he says, “playing cricket was a crime.”

In recent years, cricketers have emerged from Roorkee (Rishabh Pant), Unnao (Kuldeep Yadav), Chinnampatti (T. Natarajan), Kakarkhund (Mukesh Kumar). Economic migration has seen the sons of brick kiln workers, auto drivers, taxi drivers, weavers and craftsmen change the family fortunes. If English cricket is identified with Bazball, a style of play and a philosophy, Indian cricket today is best represented by Jaisball, after the poster boy of the new generation.

Reminiscent of Tendulkar

Jaiswal’s two double centuries, his compact defence and his confidence is reminiscent of the young Sachin Tendulkar. Jurel’s ability to read a match situation and change gears has something of Virat Kohli about it. When the future existed in the past, there is comfort in the continuity.

Shubhman Gill, already a captain-in-waiting, batted himself out of a slump, with a vital half-century in the chase. Like a comedian who makes you cry in a serious role or vice versa, Gill played against his grain to see India through. The number three slot seems to be his for the foreseeable future.

If the successful transfer of T20 techniques into Test cricket has shown one thing, it is that sometimes a big heart is more important than a perfect forward defence. It is easy to pick holes in the techniques of some of the young batters; old timers will cavil at the manner in which the front leg is sometimes moved away from the line of the ball rather than towards it, but it has worked. The short-pitched ball might be an issue, but here too the heart can triumph over the head.

There are two tests that Indian players have to pass before they can be accepted into the company of the best. The first, and easier one is their record at home. Then there is the record in countries represented by the acronym SANE: South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and England, on pitches where pace, bounce, swing and seam rule.

India tour Australia at the end of the year, and some reputations will be consolidated then. But whatever happens, the initial hurdle-clearing will always remain an inspiration.

England’s Jos Buttler walks off the field as Indian players celebrate his wicket during the ICC Men’s Cricket World Cup 2023 match between India and England in Lucknow on October 29, 2023
| Photo Credit: PTI

Sometimes an early defeat in a World Cup can be a blessing. It rids the team of complacency, it focuses attention on weaknesses that might have been covered up by victory, it re-motivates the players, it shines a light on team selection since non-performers have no place to hide. Australia, who began with two defeats at this World Cup now look like one of the favourites.

It can go the other way too. Champions England are at the bottom of the table two-thirds of the way down the league. This puts their qualification for the 2025 Champions Trophy in jeopardy. Only the first seven teams will make the grade — the criterion was one of the best-kept secrets when the World Cup began. Perhaps nothing succeeds like failure.

India have won all their matches convincingly at this stage, making them strong candidates to join Australia (2003 and 2007) as the teams to go through undefeated in this century. Perhaps television is right: there is only one team in this World Cup. For some, however, that team might be Afghanistan who have now beaten three former champions convincingly.

Before India won the World Cup in 1983, they lost to Australia and the West Indies. In 2011, another year of triumph, India lost to South Africa before getting it together.

Discovering alternatives

Successful teams learn from defeat and disappointment lessons that are not readily available in victory and contentment. The injury to Hardik Pandya threw India for a bit, but in playing Mohammed Shami and Suryakumar Yadav, they have discovered alternatives they might not have otherwise. When Pandya returns, both these players are likely to remain. Pandya will probably replace a batsman, something which might not have been the obvious move earlier.

If England is a shining example for its approach to Test cricket, their One-Day International approach is a warning. The lack of flexibility, the reluctance to drop heroes of four years earlier, the inability to stick to a plan have all played their role in this.

Skipper Jason Buttler looks like he wants to wear an invisibility cloak at the mandatory post-match interviews. You almost feel sorry for the team — Australia’s captain seemed to be hiding his disappointment at England’s plight behind a brave smile!

Similar predicament

If India win the World Cup, they will face the same problems England are facing now, four years after their triumph. The temptation to hang on to a once-victorious team now four years older and giving the impression that turning up to play is all that matters is likely to affect India in 2027 if they don’t learn from England’s problems.

Till recently, the mantra of a defeated captain was: “Let’s forget this bad performance and move on.” Defeated captains at this World Cup don’t want to forget. “This hurts,” said Buttler after the defeat against Afghanistan, adding “I think you’ve got to let these defeats hurt. There’s no point in just trying to move on very quickly. Let it hurt for a bit, let’s reflect….”

It was a sentiment echoed by Temba Bavuma who said after his side lost to the Netherlands that South Africa should “feel the emotion of today.” He clarified: “You’ve got to let the emotion seep in. Don’t think there is any point in trying to forget what’s happened. It is going to hurt, it should hurt.”

Objectively speaking, it was necessary for England to have performed this badly to ensure things change. India had the same issue in 2007 when they lost to Bangladesh and Sri Lanka and bowed out in tears. Four years later, under a new captain and without many of their seniors (Sachin Tendulkar was an exception), they won the tournament.

Even the best team in the world needs only one off-day in the knockout to ruin their plans. For India in 2003, that day was in the final. In the last two tournaments in 2015 and 2019, that day was in the semifinals. Teams can peak too early, but sometimes they can get caught up in the hype about momentum too. There is no such thing as momentum in sport. Every match is a fresh start.

There are lessons in defeat and victory, but you have to learn the right ones.