"A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a cricket team, long suppressed, finds utterance."
I can almost feel Nehru turning in his grave after my shameless use of his historic 1947 speech to describe a cricket win, but there are times when lofty prose is needed to aptly describe monumental achievements, and this is one of them. India won the Pataudi trophy, defeating England in England, 1-0. For the cricket dabblers, statistically minded and perennial cynics, it is a result which merits little attention - India had just about pipped an opposition that wasn't the evil hegemon Australia or the old enemy Pakistan (even though no one had given India a ghost of a hope before the series). Yet for the acculuturated cricket lover, a test cricket romantic, and an Indian team follower, the magnitude of this victory cannot be dimmed. To understand these layered feelings, one has to have lived the hopes, some successes and many failures of the Indian teams of the 1990s and 2000s.
My love affair with cricket began with the '92 World Cup, all of which I watched snuggled up in blankets during a chilly winter vacation spent in Patna (like all of my vacations, really). It was a forgettable world cup for India, who lost to everyone except Zimbabwe and eventual winners, Pakistan. Yet it was also the arrival of a short, scrawny and curly haired Sachin on the One Day stage - the sight of a little 19 year old boy taking on and dominating tall, strapping, fast bowlers, beamed into millions of TV viewing homes, pan dukans, restaurants and villages brought him instant fame and celebrity. It was the simultaneous birth of the television fuelled One Day cricket as we know it (colored clothing, white balls et al) and the cult of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. As the great man once modestly said, "I'm the child of the one day game".
In all this razzmatazz, what was lost was India's love for Test cricket. The wham-bam-thank you-ma'am kind of instant entertainment that one day cricket provided had captured the imagination of a generation (my generation) but had also made the coquettish joys of the Test cricket format appear quaint and an anachronism. Where Pa would rave about the crease occupation prowess of Gavaskar and Vishwanath, I would sing praises of the stylish Azhar and the maverick Jadeja's hitting. Even though the rise of One-dayers are identified as cause and decline of Tests as effect, there is another mechanism at work encapsulated by an inversion of the Latin saying, "'Quod me nutrit me destruit" (What nourishes me also destroys me). One-Day cricket hasnt just destroyed Test cricket as it was known, it has also nourished Test cricket. Apart from subsidizing Tests with the millions that it rakes in (check out the difference in stadium crowds in the two forms) , it has also created a more result oriented Test match culture where 400 runs in a day has moved from the realm of the impossible to eminently probable (incidentally, one of the reasons why Dravid chose to play safe at Oval).
Adapting the framework that I have laid out to the specific case of India, certain observations about this victory come to mind. The young architects of India's win, Karthik, Dhoni, RP Singh, Sreesanth are all between 21-25 years old, about my age or older. They must have watched the '92 World Cup sunggled in their own blankets, whether in Bangalore, Ranchi, Lucknow or Kothamanglam. Their imagination must have been fired by the same SRT, whose images must have been beamed from the same Doordarshan. This, in itself, was the biggest contribution of the TV fuelled One Day game - the democratisation and spread of a sport dominated by the Bombay Boys and Delhi Dons to cricketing backwaters of Jharkhand, Kerala and Uttar Pradesh. If you include current discards Sehwag, Pathan, Raina and Kaif to this lot, what you get is a demographically more dispersed Indian team. And the long term success of Indian cricket will be built on this wide platform.
Now, coming to the second significance of this win: As a part of a long farewell year or two for the Galacticos of Sachin, Dravid, Ganguly and Kumble, this win on English soil after 21 years is a culmination of a golden generation who have been part of many almost there moments together. There have been the memorable ODI successes like the 93 Hero Cup, 97 Titan Cup, 98 Sharjah Coca Cola Cup, Mini World Cup win in Dhaka, reaching the finals of 2003 WC but the disappointments are too many: 12 ODI tournament finals without a win, 96 WC semi-final, 03 WC final whitewash and the biggest of them all, the 07 WC disaster. If the ODI record is chequered, the Test record has recently become better, without the success that should have accompanied it. On nearly every occasion when India were poised on the brink of an overseas Test win in the 1990s, they were thwarted - by the weather (Wanderers '97 against South Africa), or by their own tendency to crumble (Barbados '97, chasing 120), winning a solitary Test against Sri Lanka in the 39 Tests they played. In the 2000s, this trend was reversed, with India's wins abroad being only second to Australia yet they caught an even worse affliction: of losing the next Test after a win (against England, Australia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, South Africa and even West Indies) resulting in the only outside the subcontinent win last year in West Indies.
Even though India's golden generation has achieved a lot - a WC final, stopping the Aussie juggernaut in Tests and nearly beating them at home, defeating Pakistan in Pakistan, what it has finally done is convincingly beat a good non-Asian team in foreign conditions. The nation had achieved Independence from the foreign domination 60 years back. The cricket team has taken its time.
P.S. Check out Sachin's pic to know what I mean.
