Of hunger and satiation

Sujata Prakash

It was supposed to be a match between equals. It was supposed to be a display of grit and and talent between the predators of Oz and the lions of the home turf. But as it turned out, the lions (barring one) exposed a streak so yellow it would have given the Aussie colours a complex.

One remark, among others, summed up the general mood of the crowd. On the third day of the first Test at the Wankhede, as the ninth Indian wicket fell without a whimper many got up to leave. Among them was a gentleman who had left work to see the most crucial day of what should have been at least a four-day match. "I wish," he said sadly, " I could go out there and bat. No one, not even me, could be worse than these so called master blasters."

It's par for the course to make 'I wish' statements like that under such circumstances. But this time it didn't sound like sacrilege. This time it wasn't about negating a man who was technically near perfect or one who had divine offside play. This was about Rome burning and ten Neros unable to do much else but fiddle.

And so the first Test at Mumbai has ended and left us with a bagful of questions. The answers have come flying in thick and fast and they're nothing new: the Indians are mentally not tough enough… they don't play like a team… the selection process is faulty…etc…

Still, some questions will never be answered satisfactorily, and it is not coincidence that they are woven around the better memories of the Test.

The pre-match build-up and hype: The three-day tour match between Mumbai and Australia had Steve Waugh on the back foot. Mumbai refused to take the Australian bowlers as seriously as the national team did with the result that they had the last laugh.

How was it that new kids on the block like Vinayak Mane, Romesh Powar, Wasim Jaffer and Samir Dighe could withstand the heat and the stalwarts couldn't? Was it to do with the fact that the former had something to prove and the hunger to win? That word again - hunger. The opposite of which is satiation. Sometimes you just wonder if that is the whole problem and that perhaps the selectors should be constantly bringing in players who haven't forgotten that if you want to eat you have to hunt the food first.

Sachin the brilliant, Sachin the brave, Sachin the unfortunate: Nothing, but nothing can compare to hearing the roar at the Wankhede when Sachin is in full flow. No doubt the heavens would have pulsated with the beat had he gone on to make a ton.

Unfortunately he fell to a catch - the catch being that he is the only true batsman in the side. People say that he is reckless; that he throws his wicket away when it should be guarded with more ferocity than Dravid does his at times. But a general of a retreating army knows that you either go down fighting or wave the white flag and Sachin will never choose the latter.

The Australians reserve a special respect for him. Strange isn't it, how a lot of us had stopped feeling that for a man who never stops trying?

The Australian spirit vs boring Indian hangdog expressions: If ever one wants to learn the art of positive body language then the Australians are the best teachers. They couldn't drop their shoulders if they tried. They have attitude and it's in their collective zeitgeist now.

Perhaps that is the best explanation of why Indians turn fatalistic so soon. It's in our blood. It's our karma to teach the world the art of graceful surrender. Only it's so much more exhilarating to watch that proud unit they call the Australian team who play not like 11 different men but one man with 11 different functions.

But then, how can the Indian players ever be like that when soon after the match finished they all vanished to their respective homes without giving a thought to matters like bonding and post-match analysis?