It was said that Indians couldn’t chase. That they always failed on the big day. If it were mating rituals that these perceptions were about, Indians may have come across as seriously defunct. But since they were cricketing theories, there was a chance that the opposite was also true. That was the hope when Saurav Ganguly led his men into the field at Lord’s, where tradition not only wears a hat but usually talks through it too. Propriety was going to be rudely broken by a rebellious Bengali in one of the ground’s hallowed balconies later in the evening, but before that a whole slice of history had to pass.
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Nasser Hussain had won the toss and asked India to field for that is what any executioner would do on the day of a final. Trescothick was in a mood not merely to score runs but to humiliate Ashish Nehra and Zaheer Khan. But at the other end, Knight, who seemed to be sighting two balls coming at him every time, thankfully left soon.
That’s when captain Hussain walked in. One of the most remarkable things that day was that the English captain connected the ball with every other part of his bat except its meat, yet the Gods (Lords being different beings in England) were keen on neutralising the man’s ill luck in going through life as England’s captain. He went on to score his first century in one-dayers. As he completed his hundred, he looked at the post-modern press box high above, and showed them the back of his shirt—number three. English journalists had consistently wondered, not always pleasantly, if he deserved to go in at number three. Despite scoring possibly the ugliest century ever, Hussain thought he had proved them all wrong. Eventually, he was the highest scorer that day, while England amassed its fourth highest total in a one-day. The stage was set for a familiar Indian collapse—Sidhu’s cycle stand theory.
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But Sehwag and Ganguly reported to the call of duty in the most ruthless manner. Hundred was up before the 15th over. Then tradition took over. Ganguly, Sehwag, Mongia and even disaster-manager Dravid left within just six overs. Tendulkar that day didn’t look like he thought India was going to win—he made room for the entire Giles family to walk on to his stumps. The score was 146 for 5 in the 24th over and the required run-rate was about seven. Sidhu’s cycle stand theory seemed to have taken over. The end of Sachin in such situations is traditionally the sign of Indians beating a retreat. Kaif walked in to join Yuvraj, as the all-knowing cricket fan decided, to delay fate. But the two just went on, carefully but briskly, like middle-class men adding to the savings account. Suddenly the equation was—59 runs from 50 balls. That’s when Yuvraj was caught. He left muttering things to himself but Harbhajan Singh came and embarrassed some bowlers. By the time he left, and Kumble too went two balls later, the game had already entered history books. What had to be decided was which country would read the page more fondly. When Zaheer scored the winning runs in the last over, Kaif was still at the other end after an exceptional deed, provoking an English paper into reminding what it wrongly presumed as the Hindu Consciousness, that the two Indians at the crease were Muslims. Two weeks later, Raj Singh Dungarpur would stand in Lord’s Long Room and rebuke the English sentiment with a "am sorry that’s not the way we play our cricket". There may have been some personal apologies made for such a reference, but no Indian has apologised, rightly so, for Ganguly’s taking off his shirt and returning the compliment that Flintoff gave in Mumbai.
It was all a beautiful sight at Lord’s, that is, if your taste in the bare male body is reasonably low.
This That
- India’s epic 326 is the second highest successful run chase in one-day international history.
- Hussain’s century was his first in 72 matches. It was also the ugliest.
