Thoughts on the axing of Dravid, Prasad and Robin

Having recently moved back to India, I went to open a bank account. As I was waiting for the woman behind the desk to do my paperwork, a young lad showed up wanting to open an account. He was not much older than 20, and clearly did not come from a particularly affluent background. He also did not know much about bank accounts. He told the woman that he wanted to open one. The woman did not even look up at him, and, with undisguised scorn, said “kaunsa account kholna hai”? [What account do you want to open?]. The young man had no idea what she was talking about, so he just stuttered and stammered for a bit. The woman rolled her eyes at him, then kept doing her own thing, and periodically asked, with increasing irritation “kaunsa account kholna hai?”. The fellow didn’t know what accounts existed, so she reeled off some names at him, without stopping at any point to explain what any of these accounts were or what they meant. She then looked around at all the others sitting in the bank, mostly more affluent and more knowledgeable than he, and everyone collectively laughed at his ignorance, as he grew more and more nervous and awkward.

Don’t get me wrong – I love being back in India. But one thing that hasn’t changed over the years, in spite of all the pretenses of “new economies” and “India Shining”, is the deeply ingrained cultural attitude of those with petty authority, who relish humiliating those without that authority. Invariably this petty authority is not earned; and invariably it comes with little accountability. But it is in these everyday exercises of little autocratic power, the ability to prick another person’s pride, to prevent another person from doing what they want or need to get done, that so many of us find and exercise power.

This is relevant for understanding what has just happened in Indian cricket. Osman Samiuddin, in an angry and articulate piece in cricinfo about the Younis Khan debacle, pointed to a feature of Pakistani society – that in the midst of much mediocrity, those who succeed become easy targets for any number of others who try and pull them down. I think that we in India have to some extent outgrown that bad trait – there are enough successful people in the country now that we have started celebrating and reveling in others’ success rather than simply trying to pull them down. But that other, inverse and closely related, sub-continental characteristic has still not changed – if we are in a position to kick someone who is slightly below us, even (or especially) if that someone is more meritorious, hardworking or dedicated than we are, then we do so with gusto. The latest to experience this kick in the face in Indian cricket are three of the most earnest servants of Indian cricket of the past decade, Rahul Dravid, Venkatesh Prasad and Robin Singh.

There are some differences between the axing of Dravid and the axing of Prasad and Robin, so let me explore those first before returning to what is common. The major difference is that Dravid’s was a selectorial decision, and those are decisions that can be debated, where one can legitimately arrive at different conclusions. I myself felt that Dravid’s reinclusion for the Champion’s Trophy did not make sense, given that for the previous two years we had made the claim that we were building a young one-day outfit with the 2011 World Cup in mind. (I had also made the case that Dravid’s axing two years ago was unwarranted, and that purely on cricketing grounds he remained one of India’s best one-day batsmen. I think that two years later, in spite of giving long ropes to the likes of Robin Uthappa, Rohit Sharma and Suresh Raina, that remains the case even today). But the fact is, Dravid did what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t a spectacular success, but he provided the backbone that the line-up so sorely lacked in the T20 World Cup. And then, without rhyme or reason, he has been dropped again.

I can understand accommodating Sehwag and Yuvraj Singh now that both are fit. But effectively, Dravid has now been deemed less worthy than Suresh Raina and Virat Kohli. The former is ironic, since it was precisely Raina’s weakness against the short ball that led to the clamor for Dravid’s recall in the first place. It is hardly the case that Raina has become an expert against the short ball in the last two months. Indeed, over the last two months, Raina has done remarkably little with the bat, and purely on form, can surely not be certain of his place in the playing 11. He was one of the more spectacular failures of the Challenger Trophy as well. There is no doubt that he is an immensely talented batsman, and no doubt also that since his recall in 2008 he has had a generally quite successful year in the shorter version of the game. But he is not going to do the job that Dravid does – provide stability and backbone to the batting line-up – and that would not have been his job even if he was in the peak of form.

Meanwhile, what claim does Virat Kohli have to replace Dravid? Again, sure he is a talented batsman, and, unlike Raina, he has been in good form over the summer, having made runs in the Emerging Players tournament in Australia. But does a summer’s worth of run-making stand up against someone who has nearly 11,000 runs in this form of the game alone?

One series ago, Kohli was lower down the pecking order than Raina. Two series ago – after his heroics in Australia – Kohli was lower down the pecking order than Raina, Rohit Sharma and Dinesh Karthik. Now, suddenly, he’s better than Dravid? What has he done to warrant that? In substantial terms, all that he has managed in this time for India is one innings of 74 against a second-string West Indian attack in a dead game with nothing at stake. But does one innings in a dead game stack up against 11,000 runs?

There are two problems with the line of thinking that leads to selections such as Kohli’s over Dravid’s. The first is that it privileges short-term memory – whoever does well in the last game stays. This is not the way to build world-beating sides, because even great players go through bad patches, and ultimately the adage of form being temporary, and class permanent, is one of the truest in cricket. And the second – which is what is so ironic – is that this short-term memory combines with the trumpeting of a so-called “long-term” mentality. In other words, the likes of Kohli, Rohit and Raina always come into the side ahead of more established, indeed better, batsmen, because we are “building for tomorrow”. The problem is, ever since I can recall following our team, we have been “building for tomorrow”. We were “building for tomorrow” during that ill-fated 1990 tour of New Zealand, which included such “long-term prospects” as V.B. Chandrasekhar and Gursharan Singh, who never played for India again. We were “building for tomorrow” at the turn of the millennium, with our “21st century” team that had the likes of Yuvraj, Mohammad Kaif, Hemang Badani and Reetinder Sodhi. Of those players, only Badani is on the wrong side of 30, and only Yuvraj survives – and even he, a decade later, is yet to mature into a reliable Test match player. In other words, we keep “building for tomorrow” – but tomorrow never comes.

This leads to three problems. The first is that senior players are removed before their time, unless their name is Tendulkar. Dravid, Ganguly, Kumble and Laxman were all axed from the one-day squad when they were playing well and still had a lot to offer. Gambhir stepped into Ganguly’s shoes and performed admirably (but he was already in his mid-20s and matured by then); but for all their hyperactive running around and sledging and occasional T20 heroics, none of the replacements for the other three have matched what these greats had to offer. The sad thing is that we would have prematurely done away with them in the Test team as well, except that it is clear that there is nobody good enough to replace them (except possibly Harbhajan for Kumble, though in my mind the jury is still out on that). And of course, it is these seniors (along with Sehwag, Gambhir and Zaheer), not some upstart youngster, that have made India one of the very best Test teams in the world.

The second problem is that the ones in the middle tend to get neglected – if one is in one’s late 20s, and not yet picked / dropped from the side, one can more or less forget a future with the Indian team. The late 20s / early 30s are often when people play their best cricket; it is the most common time when Australians become fixtures in the national side. But an Indian in his late 20s / early 30s is always less exciting than the latest 19-year old sensation who has made 40 in a high-profile IPL game, and since we have to keep “building for tomorrow”, it is the youngster who inevitably gets picked.

And so, look at the reality of the situation facing us today – we claim to have a dearth of quality middle-order batsmen in the one-day side, especially those who can play short-pitched bowling away from home. Yet Subramaniam Badrinath, who is technically one of the soundest batsmen in Indian cricket, remains perpetually just outside the selectors’ vision. Mohammad Kaif, groomed for years not just as a one-day batsman, but as a Test batsman and future India captain, does not even make it to the Challengers’ Trophy, in spite of performing consistently for UP year in and year out. And Hemang Badani, who could have developed into India’s Michael Bevan with the right encouragement, was destroyed completely. The constant argument trotted out against seniors – that they are not good enough fielders – wouldn’t apply here, as Badri, Kaif and Badani are three of the best fielders in Indian cricket. With proper planning, and genuine long-term vision, how well these three could have supported the core batting line-up of Sehwag, Tendulkar, Gambhir, Yuvraj and Dhoni. Then the exclusion of Dravid would have made sense.

The third problem is that the youngsters are themselves not properly groomed. We spend an enormous amount of effort and energy on them for a year or two, and give them undeserved and excessive adulation – and then at the first sign of failure, drop them like hot potatoes. So – enormous effort was expended on Sreesanth and Robin Uthappa between 2006 and 2008, but now they have been dropped, with no clear path back, and no clear idea of what is happening when they are out of the side. The same story has repeated itself with Rohit Sharma between 2007 and 2009, now nowhere; and it is in the process of happening to Ishant Sharma. Most spectacularly, of course, this has happened repeatedly with Irfan Pathan, meaning that the one genuine all-rounder in Indian cricket has at no point been properly nurtured; and others like R.P. Singh and Dinesh Karthik, who have proven that they have the games to succeed at the highest level, are people who have not developed the maturity to perform consistently. So my problem is not simply with the selection of Kohli – under certain parameters, that selection makes sense. It is that the system within which that selection operates makes it almost certain that Kohli will go the way of these others. For a couple of series, if he succeeds, he will be compared with Viv Richards. Then at the first sign of failure, he too will join the pile on the thrash-heap, and once he touches 25, even years of sensational performances in domestic cricket won’t bring him back.

Meanwhile, those who have the maturity and experience needed to succeed at the highest level – the Badris, the Kaifs, the Wasim Jaffers – keep getting ignored. The only exception was Gautam Gambhir, who forced his way into the side through sheer dint of performance that even selectors couldn’t ignore – and what an unqualified success he has been!

So for me, the problem with Dravid’s exclusion is not so much about the selection itself – one could look at a particular series and make a legitimate claim that Kohli is a form player; that R.P. Singh and Karthik have failed; that Raina deserves another chance; that Rohit has received too many chances; that Dravid doesn’t fit into the 2011 scheme of things; and one could end up making a case for pretty much everyone who has been selected.

But when one takes a longer-term view, and considers the following facts:

• That India’s second-most accomplished one-day batsman, with 11,000 Test runs to his name, who is in good form, and who performs a role in the side that no one else has shown the ability or mental strength to perform (Rahul Dravid) has just been dropped;
• That the most prolific batsman in Indian domestic cricket last year, who had a record-breaking season in Ranji Trophy, and who holds three of the highest individual scores in one-day domestic competitions, who is only 32 and who could conceivably step into Dravid’s shoes in the one-day side and into Ganguly’s place in the Test side (Wasim Jaffer), is not in the reckoning for either side;
• That the most prolific batsman in Indian domestic cricket over the last two years, who is still only 22 and who is probably, simply on technique, the batsman most likely to successfully replace Dravid in the Test line-up (Cheteshwar Pujara), has not been given a chance, probably because he doesn’t have the game yet to play that dazzling little cameo in a high-profile IPL game;
• That the most prolific batsman in Indian domestic cricket over the past three years, who has been knocking at Indian doors more persistently than most, and who has the game that is most likely to replicate Dravid’s in a one-day context (Subramaniam Badrinath) is somehow constantly superseded by the latest 19-year old;
• That the most naturally gifted young Indian batsman (Rohit Sharma), has after two years on the international stage still not managed to convert that talent into consistent performance;
• That the best all-rounder in Indian cricket, who was man-of-the-match in the historic Test win at Perth less than two years ago (Irfan Pathan) doesn’t even find himself in the list of 30 probables for the Champions Trophy; and
• That the highest run-getter (Dinesh Karthik) and highest wicket-taker (R.P. Singh) in our historic Test series win in England in 2007 are unable to hold their place in the side for longer than 2 or 3 games at a stretch;

Then surely there is something wrong with the larger picture.

What is really wrong with the larger picture, however, is how Dravid was treated. When Dravid was recalled for the Champions Trophy, there was an excellent commentary on cricinfo, which said that while the merits of the selection could be debated, what was important was that Dravid needed to be told what was expected of him, whether he was in the frame now for the 2011 World Cup, whether this was a stopgap arrangement, or what. Someone of his seniority, stature and commitment surely deserves at least that. Instead, he has been treated in perfunctory fashion – called in to perform a role, and then jettisoned without explanation once that roll was performed. When Srikkanth took over as Chairman of the selection panel, one of his first acts was to drop Rohit Sharma from the side. At which point, he personally went to Rohit’s hotel room and explained the decision to him. This was something new and refreshing, and I thought that we had turned a corner with this new selection committee. But now it is back to business as usual, as one of the greatest batsmen India has produced has not been treated with the courtesy that a 20-year old yet to establish himself had received.

And this is where one sees the parallels with the sacking of Prasad and Robin. Again, purely in terms of performance, one could make a case that Robin hadn’t managed to bring about much of an improvement in fielding standards. But Prasad certainly had managed to effect an improvement in bowling standards – indeed, just a year ago we were marveling at the reverse-swing skills exhibited by the likes of Zaheer, Ishant and R.P., skills that the Aussies or the English for instance were completely unable to replicate. And someone like Praveen Kumar has talked about what a difference Prasad has made to his bowling.

Sure, there are problems with the bowlers – there are injuries, there is lack of consistency, there is Ishant’s second-season blues. But how much of that is either unique to India, or Prasad’s fault? England’s entire first-line seam attack in 2005 was either injured or out of favor by 2009; there isn’t a fast bowler in New Zealand who lasts 5 games without breaking down; Australia, just over the past year, have seen injuries to Brett Lee, Stuart Clark and Nathan Bracken. Lack of consistency and second-season blues are hardly just India’s problem either. Morne Morkel was hailed, along with Ishant, as the brightest fast bowling sensation in the world at the start of 2008; he has fallen away dramatically, and is no longer in the side. Even Mitchell Johnson, coming into England on the back of sensational bowling against South Africa, had a case of the horrors through much of the Ashes that far exceeds anything Ishant has endured. Injuries and bad form are part of a fast bowler’s growing up – and probably have much more to do with a surfeit of cricket, and the lures and distractions of T20 and IPL (which was in fact when Ishant’s bowling started falling away dramatically) – both of which are the fault of the BCCI, not of any of the coaches.

But someone like Prasad is an easy fall guy, someone who can be axed to “make a statement”, to show accountability – ironically by the very people who have the least accountability of all in Indian cricket. It is the same mentality that was shown by the woman in the bank – saying that you could have worked hard, with sincerity and dedication, and given the job your all; but I, ultimately, have the power to dispose of you whenever I see fit, in the manner I see fit. It is the bane, not just of Indian cricket, but of Indian society – and it is the sort of attitude that will always hold us back.

Regardless of the successes or failures of Prasad, Dravid or Robin, these are people who have served Indian cricket with integrity, dedication and selflessness – three qualities that one would be hard-pressed to find in any of the luminaries of the BCCI. But none of that matters, because if you have the ability to exercise petty power without accountability, without merit, without the need to explain yourself, then that power will trump dedication, sincerity and hard work any day.

Let us remember that Prasad and Robin are not the first such casualties of such an attitude. Even in the recent past, perhaps the person most responsible for ensuring a smooth transition from the disastrous Greg Chappell days to the halcyon Gary Kirsten days, Lalchand Rajput, was similarly done away with in this summary fashion. This is not to dispute Kirsten’s selection as coach – he has done a terrific job with the team. But Rajput has been one of the most loyal servants of Indian cricket – an earnest coach at the under-19 and India A levels who has nurtured and spotted young talent over the past decade; an honest and straightforward coach of the national team who managed to smooth over difficulties and effect a remarkable transformation from World Cup drop-outs to T20 World champions in a matter of months. He at least deserved a pat on the back.

So in the midst of the glitz and the razzmatazz of cheerleaders and meaningless T20 competitions, and of tedious conversations of whether we are really no. 1 or 2 or 3, let us spare a thought for Dravid and Prasad and Robin; and for others, the Rajputs, the Jaffers, the Badris and the Kaifs; the unsung people who have gone a long way towards bringing Indian cricket to the point where it is even possible to aspire to the top.

These are also, alas, the people who have been deemed as dispensable by those who have little caliber, but the power and authority to make decisions about who gets to stay and who gets dumped. As long as such power and authority remains vested in those who abuse it in this way, India will never reach the top, in cricket or in any other arena.