Formula 1 is an indulgence. Let there be no doubts about that. An incredibly expensive, expansive one at that. In some ways, F1 is as much a sport as a Rajnikanth starrer is a movie. Only if one is willing to and able to see past this indulgence, can one truly enjoy the spectacle that it is. I don't with the latter, but most certainly do with the former.
I don't remember how or when I started watching tennis or cricket or football, but I remember the precise incident that kick started my affair with F1. When cable television entered my household in 1992, F1 was a reason to not turn to Star Sports (Prime Sports back then) for about 2 hours on what seemed like every Sunday. It continued that way, and could very possibly have stayed that way, but then, May 1st 1994 happened! Of course, I was completely unaware of the catastrophe when it took place, but when I turned to the sports page of The Hindu on May 2nd 1994, the headline read "Ayrton Senna pronounced clinically dead". I didn't have a clue as to who Ayrton Senna was, but the fact that he bumped cricket or tennis off the headline spot, intrigued me. I read the article, and following that, a couple of weeks later, watched the Monaco Grand Prix. I continue to watch F1 till this day.
It always helps to have a favorite. Without one, it is easier to be unbiased, but harder to be passionate, particularly when the spectacle is an indulgence. Michael Schumacher isn't palatable to everyone's taste. His ruthless attitude to winning alienated some, specifically, Brits and those that are the epitome of morals. Being neither, his unparalleled skill on track was fairly easy to admire.
In this technology driven sport, a lot of the manual skill involved tends to get masked and even overridden at times. Rain however, is known to be the great leveler, creating chaos, the results of which are nothing short of spectacular. It is on those occasions that the driver can significantly influence the laptimes that he is doing. Instead of driving at the absolute, but known limit of the machinery at their disposal, they are forced to determine the limits, that change at every corner on every lap due to the varying quantities of water present on the track. The result of finding the limits as well as making a mistake while trying to do so offer some of the most revered moments of F1. To churn out the most lopsided of victories under these conditions is the surest sign of genius in this sport.
Schumacher's victory in the 1995 Belgian Grand Prix from a starting position of 16, at the rain soaked Spa Francorchamps circuit was an early favorite of mine. Until of course, his victory at the 1996 Spanish Grand Prix, his first in Scarlet overalls. Some background information is needed at this juncture. Spain was the 7th race of 1996, and by the time the circus arrived in town, Schumacher was more than 20 points behind runaway leader Damon Hill and his rookie teammate, Jacques Villeneuve, of the all conquering Williams-Renault outfit. At the end of a dry hour of qualifying, Hill and Villeneuve were 1 and 2, with Schumacher almost a second behind Hill. The race was driven in soaking wet conditions though, and Schumacher's fastest lap was 2.2 seconds faster than the rest of the field. The rest can be read here
During this post Schumacher era, I watch F1 as an intrigued observer, with only traces of Ferrari favoritism remaining, but with Alonso being Schumacher's rival and Hamilton being, well, the Brit media's darling, I have been backing Kimi for the title all season. That hasn't prevented me from enjoying the several highpoints of this season, Hamilton overtaking Kimi at Monza and the repetitive Alonso - Heidfeld battles, to name just a couple.
However, all that has been pretty much washed away from memory by the deluge at the Japanese Grand Prix. The race being started behind the safety car was a huge letdown, and the mood turned gloomier when the talk centered around the race being stopped without any racing laps. Thankfully, Charlie Whiting, the race director, took the call to make the drivers race at about 180mph while they could not see the car that was 50m ahead of them. Besides, the 22 on track, I don't think too many people complained about the decision.
The racing was on and the action was non-stop. There were way too many subplots for a single race, happening all over the track. I kept a keen eye on Kimi's and Massa's progress through the field and also the Alonso-Hamilton gap and their pitstop timings, but Webber and Vettel's rise to the top took me completely by surprise. Trouble with F1 is, it is hard to track back the action and figure out the route taken to the top. There is just no time, and probably no cameras either. Alonso's crash spontaneously elicited some drunken revelry, but with the sobering reminder that that made Hamilton a shoo-in for the title this year. After it was clear that all pitstops were done, the focus turned to the track. Kimi was the only one that could do something about Hamilton's drive to glory and I for one, egged him on.
The Japanese Grand Prix was shifted to Fuji this year from the beloved Suzuka track. It had a lot to live up to. The 130R corner at Suzuka was a part of F1 folklore. Schumacher's lightning quick reflexes that got him through unscathed, 2 laps from the end of the race in 2000, with that year's championship on the line and Mika Hakkinen only a couple of seconds behind him on track is my fondest memory of it, with Alonso's move on Schumy during the ill fated 2005 season, being the worst one. However, both moments, and a few other ones, evoke the feeling of awe. Turn 4 at Fuji was called the 100R, the only challenging high speed corner at Fuji.
Back on track, Kimi had been following DC for a couple of laps without getting anywhere close enough to overtake. On Lap 57 though, he took a remarkably wide line through the 100R and just drove past DC without even having to outbrake him. In the past, Kimi's attitude has been questioned, but his guts haven't ever. This was why. In the prevailing blinding conditions, to take the speed that he did through that corner needed courage of the highest order. It was a Kimi special that took care of DC that day, and I made sure that my neighbors knew about it.
As the laps wound down, I was moaning and groaning about the television coverage and abnormal number of breaks for commercials. Meanwhile, Kimi had closed up on Heikki and tried a similar move a couple of times. Unfortunately for him, Heikki was driving the wheels off the Renault and was in no mood to surrender second place. After missing most of the action through the last lap, the television cameras caught the end of their joust, where it seemed like Kimi got past Heikki, but was taken at the end of the next corner. Seeing those two cross the line, I got my breath back. For a second, that is.
The cameras picked up a Ferrari and a BMW in the middle of a mighty battle for insignificant points. The action probably lasted for about 5 corners. Less than 30 seconds. It is a lifetime, "I watched it live!" moment. F1 cars are fragile and every single fragile component matters to the speed of the car. The drivers take great care in ensuring that they do not damage any of it, but during this battle, Massa and Kubica experienced a brain fade that pitched them right in the middle of a bumper car battle. No one could blame them for that though. Afterall, this was happening precisely two hours after the lights went out to start the race. They touched each other more than a couple of times. They overtook each other about 3 times, and this was before the finale.
At the last corner, Kubica pushed Massa off the track. Crucially, while doing so, he placed his wheels on the grass, which meant that he had to lift off slightly to regain track. Meanwhile, Massa, instead of lifting off, moved to the runway tarmac, kept the throttle down, rejoined the track and outdragged Kubica to the finish line. In the years to come, it will be the flagship battle of this decade, sitting pretty alongside the 1979 French classic between Arnoux and Villeneuve.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
numbers and stories
The 'made for excitement' nature of American sports is fairly easy to spot. That is not the focus of this post, though. Instead, as I catch up with the American Football (AF), basketball and even baseball at times, a couple of distinctive features of the media coverage of these sports is apparent.
AF is a sport where individual or even team stats don't necessarily add up to a team score. Unlike cricket, where every single run counts, here, every yard does not, simply because, consistently gaining yards and giving it up close to the end zone does not get you any points. In this aspect, it is very similar to football, where a team might dominate possession, have 25 shots on target and lose to a team that had 2 shots on goal. In spite of this reality, stats like yards gained and the success/failure ratio of throws are the ones that get beaten to death during the dissection of play. Qualitative analysis is conspicuous by its absence. Instead, all the judgments stem from numbers.
I guess that someone sitting high up felt that a similar numbers based approach to football would be the way to take it to the masses in America. Last year, while watching the Champions League on ESPN, I noticed that towards the end of the game, some numbers about the metres covered by a player during the game was printed out on the screen. It was quite amusing to hear the commentator try and put a spin on it, but thankfully, the idea hasn't caught on. It would be a strange experience to listen to experts talking about how Manchester United beat Liverpool since their players managed to cover a total of twenty thousand metres during the game while their counterparts managed only seventeen thousand!
Another case in point was the US Open final featuring Djokovic and Roger Federer, two of the top three that have distanced themselves from the chasing pack. In the current avatar of the sport, devoid of classical serve and volleyers, Federer is the best volleyer we have. I noticed that through the first couple of sets, Federer found himself having to make a boot-strap volley (as the name indicates, a volley that you have to make somewhere close to your shoes. Essentially, volley a dipping ball) twice and Djokovic had to do the same twice. Both of them failed to succeed in their attempts.
Sitting in the commentary box, was the incomparable John McEnroe, possibly the greatest volleyer in the history of tennis. He did not offer a viewpoint on any of these plays. Nothing about technique or insights about what made it hard to make such a volley. However, when Djokovic lost it mentally during the first set tiebreaker, McEnroe's co-commentators readily brought out his infamous temper tantrums through some friendly banter. And McEnroe, old sport that he is, played along and joked about it, while seeming to thoroughly enjoy it .
Considering McEnroe's popularity as a commentator, and how often this side story of his gets brought up, casual viewers of the sport (under which category, I include those that haven't a clue about the history of the sport, however much they might know about Federer) probably consider him to be an ex-player who behaved funny/crazy on court. That would be true, but is Ayrton Senna immortal only because he died on track?! There is a bigger story there. McEnroe has one too, for his virtuoso skills will never ever be seen again on a tennis court, unless they bring back wooden rackets, and of course, clone him. No one did it like Mac.
Futile and meaningless as it might be, if one had to contrast the playing style of Federer and McEnroe, it must be said that Federer hits the ball as hard as anyone in the game. He is as athletic as Nadal and can serve almost as well as the best. Its just that he makes it all look so casual and easy. McEnroe on the other hand made everything look ungainly. His service action was as weird as they come. He did not flex his arms to hit his forehand and backhand and he could not touch his toes. Lets not even talk about his hairstyle. Yet, what came came out of this combination of the bad, the worse and the worst, was the absolute beauty. The uncouth, brazen American, defined feather touch. His rivals, Connors and Bjorn Borg included, hit the ball harder, but none could match his touch and angles. He won 3 Wimbledons and 4 US Opens, you know.
Highlighting that, will inspire the next generation of tennis players. Highlighting his temper, will help improve television ratings for as long as the sport exists.
PS: I hate to be a moaner, and worse, moan about things that I do not understand 100%. However, this is meant to be one of those indulgences that a man's gotta have, like enjoying a big bowl of Chocolate Devotion at Cold Stone while on a diet, simply because India qualified for the semifinals of the Twenty20 World Cup. Maybe, I could work on reducing the frequency of these indiscretions...
- "We can talk numbers all day long"
AF is a sport where individual or even team stats don't necessarily add up to a team score. Unlike cricket, where every single run counts, here, every yard does not, simply because, consistently gaining yards and giving it up close to the end zone does not get you any points. In this aspect, it is very similar to football, where a team might dominate possession, have 25 shots on target and lose to a team that had 2 shots on goal. In spite of this reality, stats like yards gained and the success/failure ratio of throws are the ones that get beaten to death during the dissection of play. Qualitative analysis is conspicuous by its absence. Instead, all the judgments stem from numbers.
I guess that someone sitting high up felt that a similar numbers based approach to football would be the way to take it to the masses in America. Last year, while watching the Champions League on ESPN, I noticed that towards the end of the game, some numbers about the metres covered by a player during the game was printed out on the screen. It was quite amusing to hear the commentator try and put a spin on it, but thankfully, the idea hasn't caught on. It would be a strange experience to listen to experts talking about how Manchester United beat Liverpool since their players managed to cover a total of twenty thousand metres during the game while their counterparts managed only seventeen thousand!
- "Skills are fine, but without a story, it ain't newsworthy"
Another case in point was the US Open final featuring Djokovic and Roger Federer, two of the top three that have distanced themselves from the chasing pack. In the current avatar of the sport, devoid of classical serve and volleyers, Federer is the best volleyer we have. I noticed that through the first couple of sets, Federer found himself having to make a boot-strap volley (as the name indicates, a volley that you have to make somewhere close to your shoes. Essentially, volley a dipping ball) twice and Djokovic had to do the same twice. Both of them failed to succeed in their attempts.
Sitting in the commentary box, was the incomparable John McEnroe, possibly the greatest volleyer in the history of tennis. He did not offer a viewpoint on any of these plays. Nothing about technique or insights about what made it hard to make such a volley. However, when Djokovic lost it mentally during the first set tiebreaker, McEnroe's co-commentators readily brought out his infamous temper tantrums through some friendly banter. And McEnroe, old sport that he is, played along and joked about it, while seeming to thoroughly enjoy it .
Considering McEnroe's popularity as a commentator, and how often this side story of his gets brought up, casual viewers of the sport (under which category, I include those that haven't a clue about the history of the sport, however much they might know about Federer) probably consider him to be an ex-player who behaved funny/crazy on court. That would be true, but is Ayrton Senna immortal only because he died on track?! There is a bigger story there. McEnroe has one too, for his virtuoso skills will never ever be seen again on a tennis court, unless they bring back wooden rackets, and of course, clone him. No one did it like Mac.
Futile and meaningless as it might be, if one had to contrast the playing style of Federer and McEnroe, it must be said that Federer hits the ball as hard as anyone in the game. He is as athletic as Nadal and can serve almost as well as the best. Its just that he makes it all look so casual and easy. McEnroe on the other hand made everything look ungainly. His service action was as weird as they come. He did not flex his arms to hit his forehand and backhand and he could not touch his toes. Lets not even talk about his hairstyle. Yet, what came came out of this combination of the bad, the worse and the worst, was the absolute beauty. The uncouth, brazen American, defined feather touch. His rivals, Connors and Bjorn Borg included, hit the ball harder, but none could match his touch and angles. He won 3 Wimbledons and 4 US Opens, you know.
Highlighting that, will inspire the next generation of tennis players. Highlighting his temper, will help improve television ratings for as long as the sport exists.
PS: I hate to be a moaner, and worse, moan about things that I do not understand 100%. However, this is meant to be one of those indulgences that a man's gotta have, like enjoying a big bowl of Chocolate Devotion at Cold Stone while on a diet, simply because India qualified for the semifinals of the Twenty20 World Cup. Maybe, I could work on reducing the frequency of these indiscretions...
Thursday, September 06, 2007
a new clause to an age old law
"Thou shall reap when you go for it and it falls for you; out it falls, down you go" - Layman wording, but universal truth.
In every aspect of life, conservatism is one option. The benefits of this lifestyle lie above the zero line and waver around it, rarely dipping into the negative or soaring into the rarefied heights of the positive.
Adventurism, on the other hand, cannot be described by mean and standard deviation. A comprehensive understanding of random processes is required to statistically describe it. Of course, one can always learn through experience. The peaks and troughs come about randomly. They take their toll. People drop off the edge. A strong mind is needed to cope with the steady state of turbulence. But as the adage on top suggests, when the stars align, you get to be on top of Everest.
This is the way of the world. Adults bow to it. Youths fight it. Eventually, realize it and then pick a side.
With a 1-13 career head to head record, Roddick didn't have much of an option with respect to picking sides. He had to go for it. In his mind, he must have known that he was risking another 6-4 6-0 6-2 scoreline, but prolonged rallying coupled with some lucky breaks could have taken him as far as four sets and no more. He was up against Federer and Federer's opponents don't get gifts. Not whole matches anyway.
Federer knew the law as well as anyone. He must have known that the only way to repel an all out successful attack by Roddick would be to launch the heavy artillery himself. Which he did not do. Instead, he just changed the law. Rather, added an escape clause to the law. One which carries his name henceforth.
Roddick went for it and successfully too. He crushed his groundstrokes and yanked Federer all around the court. He served "from a tree" and didn't give Federer a whiff of a chance. If Roddick can play better, the world is yet to see it. Still, he did not win a single set. Three sets and he was out of his beloved Open. Writing that Roddick was a broken (in spirit) man would be an easy thing to do, but if he means half of what he said in his post match presser (about perspective), he is probably the one that we all need to look up to, more than we look up to Federer.
Federer was up for the match yesterday from the start. It was full throttled action from the time the first ball of the match was struck. Yet, he was not the one pressing the accelerator. He just bid his time. He must have hoped that Roddick would fall off the cliff in the tiebreaker. Roddick did not. So, he hit two crucial passes. Set one in hand. Ditto with the second set. Steve Tignor captures it well here.
Truth is, not even Federer can pull off both sets of such a battle every single time. Trouble for the rest of the world is, he has options for all possibilities, each one of world beating quality. If he had lost the first set, he would have upped his game just a little bit (and by 'up', I mean, gotten more aggressive) and won the second (just like he did against Feliciano Lopez). Under the very unlikely circumstance of him losing two high quality sets, the opponent will have to contend with a fired up aggressive Federer, while at the same time confront the "giant leap for mankind" that one would have to take to close out the match. For any of these conjectures, the odds are long.
Yesterday, Roddick could have won. I would go as far as to say that Roddick would have won. But for that to happen, someone needs to inform Federer that while the backhand slice and topspin are tennis shots, the backhand flick is not. It belongs to the domain of table tennis, tennis' poor cousin. The flick was deployed countless times to salvage a piledriver forehand crushed to Federer's backhand. That, to me, was why Federer won yesterday.
In every aspect of life, conservatism is one option. The benefits of this lifestyle lie above the zero line and waver around it, rarely dipping into the negative or soaring into the rarefied heights of the positive.
Adventurism, on the other hand, cannot be described by mean and standard deviation. A comprehensive understanding of random processes is required to statistically describe it. Of course, one can always learn through experience. The peaks and troughs come about randomly. They take their toll. People drop off the edge. A strong mind is needed to cope with the steady state of turbulence. But as the adage on top suggests, when the stars align, you get to be on top of Everest.
This is the way of the world. Adults bow to it. Youths fight it. Eventually, realize it and then pick a side.
With a 1-13 career head to head record, Roddick didn't have much of an option with respect to picking sides. He had to go for it. In his mind, he must have known that he was risking another 6-4 6-0 6-2 scoreline, but prolonged rallying coupled with some lucky breaks could have taken him as far as four sets and no more. He was up against Federer and Federer's opponents don't get gifts. Not whole matches anyway.
Federer knew the law as well as anyone. He must have known that the only way to repel an all out successful attack by Roddick would be to launch the heavy artillery himself. Which he did not do. Instead, he just changed the law. Rather, added an escape clause to the law. One which carries his name henceforth.
Roddick went for it and successfully too. He crushed his groundstrokes and yanked Federer all around the court. He served "from a tree" and didn't give Federer a whiff of a chance. If Roddick can play better, the world is yet to see it. Still, he did not win a single set. Three sets and he was out of his beloved Open. Writing that Roddick was a broken (in spirit) man would be an easy thing to do, but if he means half of what he said in his post match presser (about perspective), he is probably the one that we all need to look up to, more than we look up to Federer.
Federer was up for the match yesterday from the start. It was full throttled action from the time the first ball of the match was struck. Yet, he was not the one pressing the accelerator. He just bid his time. He must have hoped that Roddick would fall off the cliff in the tiebreaker. Roddick did not. So, he hit two crucial passes. Set one in hand. Ditto with the second set. Steve Tignor captures it well here.
Truth is, not even Federer can pull off both sets of such a battle every single time. Trouble for the rest of the world is, he has options for all possibilities, each one of world beating quality. If he had lost the first set, he would have upped his game just a little bit (and by 'up', I mean, gotten more aggressive) and won the second (just like he did against Feliciano Lopez). Under the very unlikely circumstance of him losing two high quality sets, the opponent will have to contend with a fired up aggressive Federer, while at the same time confront the "giant leap for mankind" that one would have to take to close out the match. For any of these conjectures, the odds are long.
Yesterday, Roddick could have won. I would go as far as to say that Roddick would have won. But for that to happen, someone needs to inform Federer that while the backhand slice and topspin are tennis shots, the backhand flick is not. It belongs to the domain of table tennis, tennis' poor cousin. The flick was deployed countless times to salvage a piledriver forehand crushed to Federer's backhand. That, to me, was why Federer won yesterday.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Pointless
Rivalries light up the sport of tennis like nothing else. Even the most age withered observers face meltdown when talking about or watching the TWO that matter. Unfortunately, in the current state of affairs, a Gasquet - Federer and a Safin - Federer are just matchups and not rivalries. Still, each episode of these affairs, offer the distinct possibility of turning out to be stand alone epics.
Gasquet being drawn to play Federer in the fourth round itself was a double edged sword. On the one hand, a quality battle could appear dull and devoid of drama simply due to a lack of atmosphere, while on the other hand, Gasquet had to fight fewer battles to keep up his appointment for the anointed hour (and Federer too). Thus, when I saw the schedule for the third day, here is what I had to say...
Three days into the Open and I've picked a gripe. Not a brand new one actually. This one has raised quite a few heckles over the years, but this time, it seems completely unnecessary. Hence, the rant.
The US Open has a lot going for it and not much against it. But there is one omnipresent villain who bobs up and down throughout the event every single year and showcases his absolute worst on Super Saturday. Ladies and Gentlemen, without any further ado, I present to you, the incorrigible, Mr.Scheduler.
Thanks to the action packed nature of the day and the hype and significance of the concluding weekend itself, the misfortune of the winner of the second semi-finals often goes unmentioned. Having been at the receiving end of it a few times in my couch career, I nurse the wounds, while waiting for an opportunity to strike back. At the same time, the Eleventh Commandment "Thou shall bow to television ratings" rings loudly in my ears and leaves me reluctantly resigned to fate.
However, this time, three days into it, that is, three days of glorious sunshine and floodlight filled, uninterrupted action packed days into it, Federer is scheduled to play the evening match on day three, while Richard Gasquet is slated to play the second match of day four.
Why oh why?
Why would someone do this to anyone?
Would it be so hard to ensure symmetry between and within the two halves of the draw?
Gasquet versus Federer might be equal on talent, but at this point of time, Gasquet needs all the help he can get just to take a set of the mighty Fed, and one less day off is certainly not that.
Today (Day four), first up, I checked the day's schedule, and Gasquet's name has gone missing. Baffling! Until, I note that sickness has caused Richard to forfeit his match against Donald Young. Lucky Federer!
PS: If someone is out there pondering, let me clarify that there is no point to this post really. Yesterday, it had a point, and a valid one at that, but today, it is all gone. However, with six drafts remaining just that since my last post, I just had to put this out there. Until abuse of blog space entails a jail sentence, I survive...
Gasquet being drawn to play Federer in the fourth round itself was a double edged sword. On the one hand, a quality battle could appear dull and devoid of drama simply due to a lack of atmosphere, while on the other hand, Gasquet had to fight fewer battles to keep up his appointment for the anointed hour (and Federer too). Thus, when I saw the schedule for the third day, here is what I had to say...
Three days into the Open and I've picked a gripe. Not a brand new one actually. This one has raised quite a few heckles over the years, but this time, it seems completely unnecessary. Hence, the rant.
The US Open has a lot going for it and not much against it. But there is one omnipresent villain who bobs up and down throughout the event every single year and showcases his absolute worst on Super Saturday. Ladies and Gentlemen, without any further ado, I present to you, the incorrigible, Mr.Scheduler.
Thanks to the action packed nature of the day and the hype and significance of the concluding weekend itself, the misfortune of the winner of the second semi-finals often goes unmentioned. Having been at the receiving end of it a few times in my couch career, I nurse the wounds, while waiting for an opportunity to strike back. At the same time, the Eleventh Commandment "Thou shall bow to television ratings" rings loudly in my ears and leaves me reluctantly resigned to fate.
However, this time, three days into it, that is, three days of glorious sunshine and floodlight filled, uninterrupted action packed days into it, Federer is scheduled to play the evening match on day three, while Richard Gasquet is slated to play the second match of day four.
Why oh why?
Why would someone do this to anyone?
Would it be so hard to ensure symmetry between and within the two halves of the draw?
Gasquet versus Federer might be equal on talent, but at this point of time, Gasquet needs all the help he can get just to take a set of the mighty Fed, and one less day off is certainly not that.
Today (Day four), first up, I checked the day's schedule, and Gasquet's name has gone missing. Baffling! Until, I note that sickness has caused Richard to forfeit his match against Donald Young. Lucky Federer!
PS: If someone is out there pondering, let me clarify that there is no point to this post really. Yesterday, it had a point, and a valid one at that, but today, it is all gone. However, with six drafts remaining just that since my last post, I just had to put this out there. Until abuse of blog space entails a jail sentence, I survive...
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
A distinct lack of pace
The Indian squad set to travel to England has been announced. Looking through our pace bowling resources for this tour, I got nostalgic, but not in a good way. I don't have any complaints against our selectors. In fact, I doff my hat to them. They took some tough decisions and chose from what is available. Its just that the end product reminds me of our 1996 tour to the same country.
Javagal Srinath was the leader of our attack back then. Venkatesh Prasad and Paras Mhambrey were the debutants who were supposed to be backed up by 'lively seam bowling' from a certain Sourav Ganguly. Prasad had a brilliant debut tour and went on to have quite a useful career opening the bowling for our team. However, watching both Mhambrey and Ganguly come off those ridiculously long run-ups to deliver what they actually did wasn't a pleasant experience, unless experiencing an electric shock counts as one.
This time, we have R.P.Singh, Ishant Sharma and Ranadeb Bose to backup Zaheer Khan and Sreesanth. I've seen R.P. in action and categorize him with Gambhir - extremely loose. I haven't seen the other two in action. I have nothing against these three. My frustration stems from the fact that instead of setting upon this challenging venture with a potent, proven lineup, we are doing so with a threadbare one, while praying that neither Zak nor Sree get injured. Other than the fact that they are not yet Akram and McGrath, I have no complaints against our top two. They sure can emulate the exploits of Sri and Prasad from 1996. However, instead of the third seamer slot being fought between Munaf Patel and Aashish Nehra, backed up by all-rounder Irfan Pathan, we have R.P., Ishant and Ranadeb. Considering their inexperience, expecting these newcomers to provide adequate backup for Sree and Zak against this mighty English side seems a tad unfair. Good luck to them.
If I make it sound like I am someone who would find ways to be miserable even after India wins a World Cup (cricket, hockey, kabaddi or whatever else), please be assured that that is not the case. Here's proof.
Post England 1996, till the end of the 90s, we had Srinath and Prasad and then, well, me. Ankola, Mhambrey, David Johnson, Dodda Johnson, Abey Kuruvilla - the list is long of those that tried but fell short of international class. Now, we have a whole bunch sitting at the doctor's desk after having demonstrated class at international level. We still fall short of Pakistani or Australian pace bowling standards, but the evolution from having no pace bowlers to having a whole bunch of injured ones, gladdens my Indian heart.
Javagal Srinath was the leader of our attack back then. Venkatesh Prasad and Paras Mhambrey were the debutants who were supposed to be backed up by 'lively seam bowling' from a certain Sourav Ganguly. Prasad had a brilliant debut tour and went on to have quite a useful career opening the bowling for our team. However, watching both Mhambrey and Ganguly come off those ridiculously long run-ups to deliver what they actually did wasn't a pleasant experience, unless experiencing an electric shock counts as one.
This time, we have R.P.Singh, Ishant Sharma and Ranadeb Bose to backup Zaheer Khan and Sreesanth. I've seen R.P. in action and categorize him with Gambhir - extremely loose. I haven't seen the other two in action. I have nothing against these three. My frustration stems from the fact that instead of setting upon this challenging venture with a potent, proven lineup, we are doing so with a threadbare one, while praying that neither Zak nor Sree get injured. Other than the fact that they are not yet Akram and McGrath, I have no complaints against our top two. They sure can emulate the exploits of Sri and Prasad from 1996. However, instead of the third seamer slot being fought between Munaf Patel and Aashish Nehra, backed up by all-rounder Irfan Pathan, we have R.P., Ishant and Ranadeb. Considering their inexperience, expecting these newcomers to provide adequate backup for Sree and Zak against this mighty English side seems a tad unfair. Good luck to them.
If I make it sound like I am someone who would find ways to be miserable even after India wins a World Cup (cricket, hockey, kabaddi or whatever else), please be assured that that is not the case. Here's proof.
Post England 1996, till the end of the 90s, we had Srinath and Prasad and then, well, me. Ankola, Mhambrey, David Johnson, Dodda Johnson, Abey Kuruvilla - the list is long of those that tried but fell short of international class. Now, we have a whole bunch sitting at the doctor's desk after having demonstrated class at international level. We still fall short of Pakistani or Australian pace bowling standards, but the evolution from having no pace bowlers to having a whole bunch of injured ones, gladdens my Indian heart.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
the buildup
Ever so often, the buildup to a big game often overshadows the game itself. Besides reports in the mainstream media, the blogworld contributes its fair share to the same. This is an essential ingredient and adds a whole lot of excitement to the event. While the game itself might turn out to be a dull one, the stakes are so high that it wouldn't matter one jot to the winner, their fans and the neutrals.
As I write, the Champions League final between AC Milan and Liverpool is less than 24 hours away. Reports of the key battles across the pitch, the mood across the different camps, the unavoidable shadow of the 2005 final between the same teams are being discussed and debated. Soon enough BBC Sport will start its buildup wherein, readers across the world will be updated with information about the fans traveling to Athens, their activities, their whereabouts and their demeanours. Further, readers will send out their own thoughts and comments, some well informed and others outrageously stupid. Some will send out frustrated yelps about co-workers and their better halves, while others will vent out their anger against the bonehead sitting in front of the TV. Humor will be omnipresent. It will be subtle but will linger long in memory.
As for the viewing experience, the unfortunate reality is that, the local time noon kickoff dulls some of the excitement built up. While it does enable me to watch the game through an extended lunch break that extends further if the game goes into extra-time and penalties, sitting in a break room at work, with bright sunshine pouring in just does not cut it. In addition, ever so often, an unfortunate soul would wander in, stare cluelessly at the three or so individuals gaping open mouthed at the screen, and launch a grand inquisition about the tournament, the stature of it and the identity of the teams contesting it. Going home for these games offers a better deal, but it involves a lot of effort and worse, my reputation at work takes a battering, since it does not take too long for my peers to figure out the reason for my prolonged absence from work during a Wednesday afternoon. So, break room it is.
The absence of Manchester United in the final lineup means that I will be devoid of any stomach churning moments during this final. Unfortunately, they lost out to a great Milan performance during the semifinal. On the other side, Liverpool and Chelsea agreed that football wasn't their strength and that they would contest a game of chess to decide the winner. After hours of tedium, a coin toss was used to end the misery. Now, I will be ardently egging on Milan for the simple reason that both Wayne Rooney and I would be throwing up if Liverpool won the trophy.
When it comes to action on the pitch, I intend to have my eye out for Kaka livening up the proceedings while on his invisible pair of roller skates. The man is a marvel. Further, the Gattuso versus Gerrard battle promises much and has added needle to it considering the public slanging that has been going on between the two over the past couple of weeks.
Glory be to Milan!
As I write, the Champions League final between AC Milan and Liverpool is less than 24 hours away. Reports of the key battles across the pitch, the mood across the different camps, the unavoidable shadow of the 2005 final between the same teams are being discussed and debated. Soon enough BBC Sport will start its buildup wherein, readers across the world will be updated with information about the fans traveling to Athens, their activities, their whereabouts and their demeanours. Further, readers will send out their own thoughts and comments, some well informed and others outrageously stupid. Some will send out frustrated yelps about co-workers and their better halves, while others will vent out their anger against the bonehead sitting in front of the TV. Humor will be omnipresent. It will be subtle but will linger long in memory.
As for the viewing experience, the unfortunate reality is that, the local time noon kickoff dulls some of the excitement built up. While it does enable me to watch the game through an extended lunch break that extends further if the game goes into extra-time and penalties, sitting in a break room at work, with bright sunshine pouring in just does not cut it. In addition, ever so often, an unfortunate soul would wander in, stare cluelessly at the three or so individuals gaping open mouthed at the screen, and launch a grand inquisition about the tournament, the stature of it and the identity of the teams contesting it. Going home for these games offers a better deal, but it involves a lot of effort and worse, my reputation at work takes a battering, since it does not take too long for my peers to figure out the reason for my prolonged absence from work during a Wednesday afternoon. So, break room it is.
The absence of Manchester United in the final lineup means that I will be devoid of any stomach churning moments during this final. Unfortunately, they lost out to a great Milan performance during the semifinal. On the other side, Liverpool and Chelsea agreed that football wasn't their strength and that they would contest a game of chess to decide the winner. After hours of tedium, a coin toss was used to end the misery. Now, I will be ardently egging on Milan for the simple reason that both Wayne Rooney and I would be throwing up if Liverpool won the trophy.
When it comes to action on the pitch, I intend to have my eye out for Kaka livening up the proceedings while on his invisible pair of roller skates. The man is a marvel. Further, the Gattuso versus Gerrard battle promises much and has added needle to it considering the public slanging that has been going on between the two over the past couple of weeks.
Glory be to Milan!
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Carribean thoughts
By all accounts, cricket did itself no favors during this World Cup. Supposedly, the carnival atmosphere associated with cricket watching in that part of the world was sorely lacking due to a multitude of reasons. Further, the ICC has been criticized for not taking the necessary steps to avoid the issues of World Cup'03 cropping up this time. Indeed, the complaint list of the two editions looks very similar - too many minnows, tournament too long, not too many close matches and of course, an inevitable winner. Strange, since my memory of the 2003 edition comprises of some gut wrenching moments, quite often followed by some serene celebratory ones. Clearly, my disillusionment with WC'07 has a lot to do with India's early exit. Having said that, as a neutral observer who always enjoys a good game of cricket, I have to admit that empty stands for the high profile clashes did make for a depressing viewing experience.
Compiling a comprehensive list of favorite highs and depressing lows does not interest me since I would have to do so based on reading experience rather than a viewing one. However, amidst the action that I caught the stumping of Brian Lara by Sangakkara of the bowling of Vaas stands out. West Indies were chasing Lanka's fighting total. They were two down already with dangerman Gayle gone. Lara was at the crease and had to carry the team if the West Indies wanted to avoid early elimination. Sangakkara was standing up to the stumps to Vaas as he did most often during this World Cup. Vaas bowled a delivery at 78 mph outside the off stump. Lara went for an expansive cover drive and missed. Sangakkara collected it without a hint of difficulty and in one fluid motion removed the bails, finding Lara inches outside his crease. There was fair praise for the dismissal considering that it was key one, however, in my opinion, not anywhere close to the amount it merited. My jaw dropped when I saw it. It remains the best piece of cricketing action that I caught during this World Cup.
I am quite aware of keepers standing up to bowlers of the medium pace category these days. Nevertheless, this was the first time that I noticed someone pull of a stumping. It was a show of skill that would have adorned any World Cup final. On that note, for this trend to become popular and worthwhile for a fielding captain, it requires two to tango. A keeper of supreme reflexes along with a bowler who can pitch it on a dot 60 out of 60 deliveries. Needless to say, India is not going to be seen doing it anytime in the near future.
Having witnessed that, reading about Buchanan's thoughts on developing the synergy between keeper and bowler a la baseball kindled my interest. Given that batsman are often able to pre-determine their strokes and jump out of the crease even to the pace bowlers, improved communication between keeper and bowler can be one way to rein them in. This is still a while away from becoming mainstream, but I think that there is huge potential to research this idea.
Undoubtedly, Woolmer's death cast the biggest shadow over the event. I had dropped my uncle at the LA airport and was buckling up to drive back to San Diego, when my friend, Rasan, called me and broke the news that Woolmer had died. I can't claim to have been heartbroken, because I was not, but the news was quite a shock. I recall continuing to discuss the news with a sad overtone for a while through the drive. Looking back, what stood out from the conversation was the fact that both of us took it for granted that it was a heart attack and nothing else. We tried to figure out exact reasons for the heart attack and wondered where cricket on the subcontinent was heading.
Before the ugly truth of murder was revealed, assuming that Woolmer took Pakistan's defeat to Ireland to heart, one of the locals said, "Even da biggest team can lose to little team, man. It a game, and da ball round". The cause of death has changed. The truth remains the same though.
I must admit that if the quote was "even the biggest team can lose to a little team. It is a game and the ball is round", the meaning would have been the same, but the impact, not so much. The unique use of words and the accent that goes with it adds an unquantifiable allure to this immortal quote. The quote s-p-e-l-l-s out the meaning and significance of a sport to us. Along with it, in one sweeping move it captures the well documented spirit of the volunteers at this World Cup and their refreshing outlook on life. An easily missed positive.
Compiling a comprehensive list of favorite highs and depressing lows does not interest me since I would have to do so based on reading experience rather than a viewing one. However, amidst the action that I caught the stumping of Brian Lara by Sangakkara of the bowling of Vaas stands out. West Indies were chasing Lanka's fighting total. They were two down already with dangerman Gayle gone. Lara was at the crease and had to carry the team if the West Indies wanted to avoid early elimination. Sangakkara was standing up to the stumps to Vaas as he did most often during this World Cup. Vaas bowled a delivery at 78 mph outside the off stump. Lara went for an expansive cover drive and missed. Sangakkara collected it without a hint of difficulty and in one fluid motion removed the bails, finding Lara inches outside his crease. There was fair praise for the dismissal considering that it was key one, however, in my opinion, not anywhere close to the amount it merited. My jaw dropped when I saw it. It remains the best piece of cricketing action that I caught during this World Cup.
I am quite aware of keepers standing up to bowlers of the medium pace category these days. Nevertheless, this was the first time that I noticed someone pull of a stumping. It was a show of skill that would have adorned any World Cup final. On that note, for this trend to become popular and worthwhile for a fielding captain, it requires two to tango. A keeper of supreme reflexes along with a bowler who can pitch it on a dot 60 out of 60 deliveries. Needless to say, India is not going to be seen doing it anytime in the near future.
Having witnessed that, reading about Buchanan's thoughts on developing the synergy between keeper and bowler a la baseball kindled my interest. Given that batsman are often able to pre-determine their strokes and jump out of the crease even to the pace bowlers, improved communication between keeper and bowler can be one way to rein them in. This is still a while away from becoming mainstream, but I think that there is huge potential to research this idea.
Undoubtedly, Woolmer's death cast the biggest shadow over the event. I had dropped my uncle at the LA airport and was buckling up to drive back to San Diego, when my friend, Rasan, called me and broke the news that Woolmer had died. I can't claim to have been heartbroken, because I was not, but the news was quite a shock. I recall continuing to discuss the news with a sad overtone for a while through the drive. Looking back, what stood out from the conversation was the fact that both of us took it for granted that it was a heart attack and nothing else. We tried to figure out exact reasons for the heart attack and wondered where cricket on the subcontinent was heading.
Before the ugly truth of murder was revealed, assuming that Woolmer took Pakistan's defeat to Ireland to heart, one of the locals said, "Even da biggest team can lose to little team, man. It a game, and da ball round". The cause of death has changed. The truth remains the same though.
I must admit that if the quote was "even the biggest team can lose to a little team. It is a game and the ball is round", the meaning would have been the same, but the impact, not so much. The unique use of words and the accent that goes with it adds an unquantifiable allure to this immortal quote. The quote s-p-e-l-l-s out the meaning and significance of a sport to us. Along with it, in one sweeping move it captures the well documented spirit of the volunteers at this World Cup and their refreshing outlook on life. An easily missed positive.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
What awaits Mahela?
Even prior to the World Cup, Sri Lanka had been making quiet progress since that 6-1 thrashing that India handed out to them. Followers of Lankan cricket were quite happy to credit the transformation to Mahela Jayawardene. While his batting form was cause for concern coming in to the World Cup, he has redeemed his reputation with a couple of good knocks and one, by all accounts, all-time great knock in the semi-final. So, at this point of time (prior to the WC finals) he does have a whole lot going for him.
However, it is by resting Vaas, Malinga and Murali in the league game against the Aussies, that Mahela might well have played his biggest reputation enhancer card. It definitely depends on how the final pans out, but, if all goes well, it could be the difference between Mahela the legendary World Cup winning captain and Mahela the World Cup winning captain. What is the difference?
History indicates that as time passes, players / leaders / performances need readily presentable anecdotes for their reputations to become a part of legend. Steve Waugh's "We need to win the next 8 games to lift the Cup" and "You just dropped the World Cup" are two of those that readily come to mind. Mahela's reputation maker could be the resting of his bowling trio, particularly if Malinga could play a key part in the triumph. In the years to come, he could be the captain that played rope-a-dope with the unbeatable Aussies and came out on top. And we all know the reputation of the man that invented that tactic, don't we? Now, all he needs to do is to defeat an Australian team that is undefeated in 22 matches in the World Cup.
However, it is by resting Vaas, Malinga and Murali in the league game against the Aussies, that Mahela might well have played his biggest reputation enhancer card. It definitely depends on how the final pans out, but, if all goes well, it could be the difference between Mahela the legendary World Cup winning captain and Mahela the World Cup winning captain. What is the difference?
History indicates that as time passes, players / leaders / performances need readily presentable anecdotes for their reputations to become a part of legend. Steve Waugh's "We need to win the next 8 games to lift the Cup" and "You just dropped the World Cup" are two of those that readily come to mind. Mahela's reputation maker could be the resting of his bowling trio, particularly if Malinga could play a key part in the triumph. In the years to come, he could be the captain that played rope-a-dope with the unbeatable Aussies and came out on top. And we all know the reputation of the man that invented that tactic, don't we? Now, all he needs to do is to defeat an Australian team that is undefeated in 22 matches in the World Cup.
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