Bengali chauvinism, stuck in its
19th century groove, is these days perhaps more to
be ridiculed than condemned. Even so, there is
perhaps something more than Bengali
narrow-mindedness that found expression at
Calcutta's Eden Gardens where the fourth one-day
international between India and South Africa was
being played on November 25 last. The South
African cricketers were lustily cheered by the
crowd while the newly-appointed India captain,
bowled neck and crop for a mere 7 after spending
half an hour at the crease, was booed all the way
back to the pavilion. That was, however, no lack
of patriotism, but an outburst against what was
regarded as a gross impropriety hurting the
interests of national cricket.
The Calcutta crowd was in an
incensed mood. Sourav Ganguly, the erstwhile
captain, had been removed from India's ODI eleven
on the ground of consistent lack of form. The
selectors were stated to have looked at the record
of his performance in Zimbabwe after the term of
suspension imposed upon him by the International
Cricket Council lapsed. His scores in the eight
matches he played there against the West Indies,
Sri Lanka and New Zealand aggregated to 155, with
an average of 22.6 per match. His average score in
the twelve matches immediately preceding the
suspension — played against England, Pakistan,
Kenya, Bangladesh and an ICC eleven — worked out
to 28.2, which was also, according to reports,
taken into consideration. The selection committee
— and their advisors — obviously decided that
enough was enough, a player with such a moderate
record of recent performance had no place in
India's ODI team.
Comparisons are obvious. Besides,
Sachin Tendulkar is sui generis. It is,
however, worth noting some of the relevant facts.
In the course of his breathtakingly brilliant
career, Tendulkar has struck several unhappy
patches; his scores during these spells of bad
form were generally undistinguished and even lower
than the poor averages on account of which Ganguly
has supposedly now been chucked out of the
national team. For instance, in the 1997-98
season, Tendulkar's total score from nine
consecutive matches (played against Pakistan,
England and West Indies) was 182, yielding an
average of 20.2. In 1999-2000, his total tally
from eleven successive matches (played against New
Zealand, Pakistan and Australia) was as low as
201; the average was 18.3. In eight consecutive
matches in the 2002-03 season (played against
England, Zimbabwe, South Africa and Sri Lanka),
Tendulkar's run average stooped to as low as
9.2.
Did these occasional low scores
matter at all though? Geniuses are geniuses. They
have a way of springing back to super-excellence,
never mind some random disappointing performances.
One cannot offer any judgment on how such
under-performances come about or precisely when
these end. In the very recent period, in the last
eight ODIs at home against Sri Lanka and South
Africa — from which Ganguly was excluded —
Tendulkar has again entered a blue period; his
average score has been only 10.4. To request
Sachin to opt out of our ODI team would still be
absurd. He is sui generis, he cannot be
meted out such treatment; nobody will dare to.
It is obviously a different matter
where Sourav Ganguly is concerned; he is not a
nature's genius. Even so, he is the only other
Indian apart from Tendulkar who has scored more
than 10,000 runs in ODIs. He has been a
magnificent stroke player and has dazzled the
crowd in different continents. Tendulkar has
scored 38 centuries and 71 half-centuries in the
358 ODI matches he has played till now. Ganguly
has played a fewer number of matches — 270 — but
he too has hit as many as 22 centuries and 60
half-centuries; no other Indian player is yet in
sight to reach such a record. The proportion of
occasions Tendulkar and Ganguly have scored,
either a century or a half-century in their
appearances in ODI matches is exactly the same,
30.4 per cent.
What ought common sense as well as
the verdict of natural justice to be in such a
circumstance? Just as the law of probability
supports the hypothesis that persevering with
Sachin Tendulkar is bound to yield ample dividends
even in the future, should not a similar
conclusion seem equally valid in the case of the
southpaw from Calcutta?
The selectors thought otherwise. The
concept of natural justice has clearly failed to
appeal to them. For some reason, Ganguly has got
their goat, and he finds himself stripped not only
of his captaincy, but was actually dismissed from
the team. The belief is widespread that, in taking
the decision they took, the selectors were largely
guided by the counsel of the team's newly anointed
foreign coach, Greg Chappell. Going by the
grapevine, Chappell rejected Ganguly on two
counts: (1) The 'prince' of Calcutta is a lazy
runner, and (2) the Australian coach does not like
an Indian player to be argumentative. Rough
Australian justice substituted natural justice.
There was thus a fusion of two
emotions in the reflexes of the Calcutta crowd who
in the past had manned the barricades in support
of C.K. Nayudu and Mushtaq Ali. Anti-colonial
fervour still runs strong in the blood stream of
the average Calcuttan; he is also a great one for
natural justice to be rendered to each and
everyone in the neighbourhood. The explosion at
the Eden Gardens had therefore only a thin linkage
with chauvinistic passion; the crowd roared its
disapproval of the colonial hangover.
Whether the decision of the
selectors was 'autonomous' or 'induced' is almost
beside the point. The impression has however
gained ground that they are not at this moment
particularly worried over the quality of India's
cricketing performance; rather, their principal
objective is executing the murder of the
cricketing career of a particular individual.
Civilization has ceased to be a part of the
picture. When Steve Waugh was asked to step down
from both membership and captaincy of Australia's
one-day squad, he was deferentially requested to
continue to lead the test side of the country.
Over here, no such consideration has been deemed
worthy for Ganguly. He was still on the test team,
but not as captain, but on sufferance.
Near-illiterate columnists from the lower depths
were commissioned to express concern over
Ganguly's 'form', with a severe warning that
should his performance in the test matches be
below par, out he would go from the test team too.
An accident happened. Ganguly did
not underperform in the Delhi test. His defence
was impeccable, he partnered Tendulkar in the
longest partnership of the match, but he
scrupulously stayed away from playing the sizzling
drives and cuts he is famous for. It was patently
clear he was worried over the sword of Damocles
hanging over him and wary of playing. Sourav
Ganguly was cramped, and with purpose. What a
calamity, he nonetheless scored more runs in the
test than the team's captain. The selectors,
however, had already reached their decision:
Sourav Ganguly was dismissed from the test team
for the next match, and only Sourav Ganguly. This
was retrospective vindication of the anti-colonial
outburst of the Calcutta crowd on November 25; the
chauvinists too inched their way in.
On the other hand, it is perfectly
possible that the selectors, along with the dour
Australian coach, had taken account of all
conceivable factors and decided that the cause of
Indian cricket would be irretrievably harmed if
'the lazy Bengali' was persisted with; no default
of natural justice, they might claim, has taken
place. There are, however, ways and ways of
handling such a delicate situation. Only a loony
fringe will deny that Ganguly has done the state
some service; he deserved to be accorded a bit
more of both grace and civilization.
Sometimes chauvinism is thrust upon
you
