Say what you will about their impotence overseas, once they hit Indian airspace, the nation's cavalier lot undergoes a most remarkable transmutation. Something about the familiarity of the old wickets makes them almost bullet proof. The only test between India and Australia--played for the newly fabricated Border-Gavaskar Trophy, was trousered by the home team, proving that since 1993, when the Poms kicked off the rot, very little has changed within the echelons of Indian cricket.

For the sake of those who missed out on that eventful moiety of cricket history, early '93 was when Azharuddin and his thugs hobbled back after a wretched '92. Down Under, they dumped four out of the five tests and left theWorld Series Championship and the '92 World Cup fashionably early. Late fall same year, they permitted the Springboks to get medieval and reached home to discover Gooch and company at the door; Gooch being the one who had knocked up 333 runs on a previous engagement.
While their envoys were serving under the Springboks, the game's executives, exhibiting unusual resolve, sent word out to desecrate wickets from coast to gleaming coast. The English never knew what hit them. Spin trio of V. Raju, A. Kumble, and R. Chauhan weaved snares while V. Kambli, then unadorned with as much jewelry, shut them out with a pair of double tons. All in all, the period was hugely enjoyable. (So enjoyable, that they have won ten and lost one test at home in the past four years. )

The tradition continues. Everytime the mugs harvest a string of foreign failures, the brass pulls out Plan B. When it is turn to play the genial host, entertaining is done so on wickets that have, in the dark of the night, been whipped up to conform to some very devious specifications. Although such tactics have been deemed unimaginative by even the normally sympathetic Indian press, the game's custodians, are not overly bothered by pangs of guilt and maintain that everyone from the English to the Aussies devise self- serving pitches for visiting elevens.

The Ettiquette books are silent on the subject and the Australians have taken in the hosts' dicta with a spirit of tactful acquiescence. But once home, they will turn a deaf ear to such musings and will slip across a theory or two of their own, and supplement that with a few meant to sting opinions about the Ferozshah Kotla turf. Like most teams that call upon the sub-continent, the Aussie two cents will mean little to the BCCI. After all, India winning a test is worth wrinkling the opposition's sunny disposition.

Of which the Aussies displayed chock-fulls of as they first sniffed in the scents of Mumbai, when the original timetable hinted that New Delhi was perhaps more appropriate if they had any intentions of keeping their appointment with the Board President's XI in nearby Patiala. There was a bit of hand throwing and the accidental tourists were reminded that they cannot bound over the subcontinent at will. Somewhat agitated, they tiffed with the local side that played an odd assortment of has beens and aspirants. Rain blew in and annulled a playing day, suggesting that in this time-stricken age, a three-day resultless game is a woeful waste of time. They made it back to the capital, wary of the assignment at hand and Geoff Marsh's first look at the big game wicket had him salivating for Warne. It was parched and looked like one of those drought hit farmlands you see every now and then on TV--the ones with an abundance of grotesque cracks and skeletons of cows and things.

Australian Innings:

It was one those tosses a skipper craves to lose. Taylor could do little wrong with the coin and with fingers crossed, informed his little counterpart to go field. Srinath's bowling arm remained in traction and he sat out the rumpus while big David Johnson gratefully inched into the void. He and Prasad bowled the first few overs with the knowledge they were in the side to make up the count. Ashish, Sunil, and Kumble were the offensive players that the Indian management went with. David's introduction, as his efforts were to prove later, was somewhat uninspired. Against the Aussies in Patiala, he was flimsy-- sufficient cause to dump him for Hirwani--Ferozshah's was just the deal for a leggie short of exposure to build his confidence on. Baring Johnson to the Australians served no purpose, other than perhaps killing two star-crossed international careers with one pop.

Mark was the first to hand in the notice, offering a blank to Prasad and learnt that padding up to BKV's ruler straight, ankle kissing variety, leaves little to the imagination; Ump. Wiley sent him to the showers. Ricky Ponting had his wires crossed and never batted with the diction that a Test match requires. His edginess got Michael Slater all worked up and the two grabbed the innings by the wrong handle exiting one after the other to frightful shots. Steve poked his head in long enough to remind the crowd that he was in attendance and that left his twin and Bevan at the mercy of the Kumble and Joshi. Sunil did Bevan in with one that could have hit the stumps but we'll never know since Bevan felt it necessary to impair the ball's trail. However, Venkat, a mind-reader, agreed with Joshi's lively inference and the Australians began writing the conclusion to innings one. Anil Kumble is best on arid surfaces--Toronto spurred his recovery and he whisked his stuff with standard precision, rounding off the tail with relish leaving the Aussies with 182 to shelter.

Indian Innings

Tendulkar and gang filtered the pros and cons of various members opening the innings. Nevertheless, when Mongia and Rathore oozed out, it was clear India's conundrum at the top was very much in progress. Rathore's scuffle across the stumps to Reiffel was duly noted by Taylor and like a grandmaster positioning a pawn, he edged Ponting into short mid-wicket. A few barren swipes hence Rathore conceded he was out- thought, and departed for the Hilton, tipping Ponting handsomely in the process. Ganguly, who should be opening, shimmered along with little ado--in opposition to Mongia's methods whose huge innings, although an exceptional effort, was fussier than Ann Landers. Significantly, this was the first time in months that the Indians had hit an equilibrium. Frequently in the past they were apt to take the high or the low road--either all the big names clicked or the ensemble folded with little shame. Sachin and Azhar's clinkers had little effect as Mongia pitched up tent and ushered Ganguly, Dravid and the tail division into his world of tranquility. 353 runs in a tad under two days were based off the 'keeper and eight runs after his dismissal, the Indian reply was in--361.

The men from Oz re-took the field with understandable apprehension. A comprehensible situation in Messrs. Kumble, Joshi and Kapoor aside, they had started to view Peter Wiley's moody interpretations of lbw's and caught behinds with disquietude.
In the days leading up to the game, Taylor had spoken, often airily, of an Aussie victory. He grit the teeth and preserved his wicket conscientiously as Slater collected a bagel. Then Wiley's congealed frame shivered with life and he lived out his dire reputation, pardoning Ponting off Johnson and then executing Mark Waugh. The Waugh verdict, caught behind off Kumble, tore the visitors asunder and as Taylor bunged one from Kumble to Rathore the splendid crowd watched the all too familiar unraveling of another touring squad. Azharuddin filled his ration of premium catches as Steve Waugh punctuated his lofty world ranking with an unconquered 67 which did little to alleviate the discomfort of his mates. 58 runs was the grand total they set for the hosts. Aussie innings part deux was marginally superior to Aussie innings one and it was evident that at present rate they would have required all of three tests to ease into test match mode--plus two more to get with the molested wickets. Consequently, one can understand Marsh and his theories of a more elaborate test series.

The Victory

Like a dull pupil coping with the hypotenuse theorem. That's how Rathore tackled the Reiffel stuff and unconditionally sullied his chances of another appearance. Mongia's blob, which will keep his hundred company, received unselfish applause from the New Delhites. And when Sachin matched Mongia's latest output with the board reading 3/26, the Aussies could be found wishing they had a few dozen runs to bowl at. Ganguly and Azharuddin put such nonsense to rest and picked off the remains; mostly in boundaries.

Despite repairing to their winning ways, India's victory was met with circumspection. And it wasn't the game conditions nor the umpiring that put the damper on the festivities. It was universally agreed the Indians won because they did everything better than the opposition--where the Aussies labored to come to grips with the different parameters, Mongia's time-intensive effort was equivalent to the toils of three men. Kumble's unerring pitching was efficiently--if not classically destructive. Taylor missed Warne, but there was no guarantee that the ace would have altered proceedings. So the Indians having demonstrated exemplary team work are a difficult side to beat on native soil, right? Not quite.

The Springboks are flying in to shove with these two in a week's time for the Titan Cup and the competition promises to hold good things for both visitors. What's worrying Indian supporters is the fact that, in recent memory, and the '96 World Cup Lanka binge comes almost instantly to mind, the molested strips this tourney is be staged on have been detrimental to the home side at the most inopportune of moments. In Calcutta, the carefully contrived Eden Garden pitch held up, as planned, long enough for an innings- -the wrong innings, as it turned out. Dictated by the toss, Sri Lanka went about the chore in their patented method and left the biting of the mortified lip to the Indians. And in Toronto the Pakistani spin conglomerate of Saqlain and Mushtaq had the purported best players of spin fumbling some more. The Indians find the vagaries of such tracks to be difficult to overpower--particularly when the encounters are high-profile. Factor in the time constrictions of a one-day game and the green nature of the contemporary Indian team, the hunter could become the hunted.

Test cricket, especially of the quality conducted in India, is no longer a reliable index. The outcome of the last match should, at least theoretically, push India up the waging ladder, but the books show South Africa or Australia as the ones to line up the life savings for.

But don't take my word for it. I have been--if ever so slightly-- wrong.

Copyright©1996, "On Drive", Mesmer Productions. All rights reserved.