Test two, day one

When constructing narratives, you tend to look for plot points. For those moments that mean little at the time, but which you recognize, post facto, as the fulcrum around which the storyline turns on its axis.

The first came with less than half an hour to go for lunch. Hashim Amla, who by then had been batting long enough against India on this tour for his beard to have grown an inch or two more, and debutant Alviro Petersen, who from the first ball he addressed batted with the aplomb of a veteran, had weathered the inevitable early dismissal of Graeme Smith, bowled through the gate by Zaheer Khan [while on which, few bowlers have had the wood on opposing batsmen so thoroughly in recent times].

Harbhajan Singh came on to bowl after we had already seen enough from Amit  Mishra to realize he was not going to be the one to slice through the opposition on this day. And the off spinner started with just a slip and short square – but no bat-pad on the off, and no leg slip for the bounce and turn across the body that Bajji normally revels in at the Gardens.

It was a strangely non-aggressive field, especially when you consider that this was an off-spinner who owns this ground, bowling to a Test debutant who had never faced him before.

At that point, South Africa controlled the game. The Proteas have in recent times been slammed, with some justice, for a safety-first mindset with the bat. In Indian conditions, and with the advantage of winning the toss, that mindset became an asset – unlike the Aussies, for instance, who look to dominate and come to grief on grounds where patience is the key, the South Africans are adept at playing the waiting game. With Amla and Petersen growing in stature by the over, it was set up for the visitors to bat long and bat big, and to take the game away from the home side.

For 63 overs either side of the lunch break, nothing happened to change that impression, though Zaheer did take out Amla and Petersen after their respective centuries.

In the 64^th over, Harbhajan bowled one on off and middle turning to leg; AB de Villiers stayed back and with the turn, tucked the single behind square. Nothing unusual there – Harbhajan had been bowling that line ever since this series started, and batsmen had been taking the singles, and more, being offered to them on a platter.

Except that this time, as the batsmen ambled across, Bajji wandered off to the side of the pitch and visibly berated himself. The words were unclear; the message was unmistakable – Bajji seemed to be reminding himself to bowl outside off, as his craft dictates; to make the batsman play beside the line and not behind it.

At the end of the over, Bajji was going 15-0-53-0; his series analysis was 61-1-219-2. From that point of self-realization on, he was to bowl a dream spell of 8-2-7-3.

The outside off line, and the bounce he got on this track, first defeated a Jacques Kallis sweep – part of an effort by the batsman to dominate the spinner, but on this occasion flawed because the bowler had kept the line wider of off; the turn in to the bat and the bounce off the deck found the top edge and VVS Laxman, making amends for a horrid drop off Amla when the batsman was in the sixties, provided that moment of magic every team needs, when he ran back from slip to take a tumbling catch as the ball came down over his shoulder.

Bajji’s form – or lack thereof – and his focus on bowling flat, defensive lines has in recent times triggered justified queries about his continuance as the team’s number one spinner. Every once in a while, though, sometimes sparks in that brain of his – and then he becomes unplayable.

Maybe it is a combination of the Eden Gardens and the number 250 – it was around that point that in his break out series against Australia he began turning it around with a hat-trick, before the Laxman-Dravid combine scripted one of the most stirring second acts in contemporary memory. Here, again, it was with South Africa still in control at 253/4 that magic happened.

Ashwell Prince came out; Bajji immediately went around the wicket to the left-hander. The batsman read that as an indication of the bowler’s ploy to hit off and turn it away from the bat, with a slip in place. He played for turn; Bajji bowled the one that went through with the arm, and nailed Prince bang in front.

Jean Paul Duminiy must have been too busy putting on his gear to watch Prince get out – he came out, got the exact same delivery, and departed in the exact same fashion, to put Bajji on the verge of another hat trick. Even before the umpire’s finger went up, the offie took off, not towards his celebrating team mates but towards the spectators thronging the one gallery that is not down for renovation.

There is nothing quite like the Eden Gardens when India is on top. Reports put the attendance at around the 40k mark, but the buzz around the ground was reminiscent of the Gardens in all its 95k glory – and Bajji, and the Indian team, fed off it.

It often happens with this team that when one player sparks, the rest catch fire. Zaheer Khan took out de Villiers with a great run from mid off to cover and a pick up and throw that caught the batsman out of the crease after Dale Steyn, who had survived Bajji’s hat trick ball, sent him back.

Ishant Sharma, who outside of a spell after lunch with some great short-pitched bowling particularly at Hashim Amla [a rare recent good spell, only for the good work to be undone when Ishant overdid the short stuff] and Amit Mishra then came to the party, and when umpires called a premature halt to play, the Proteas had lost eight first innings wickets for 45 runs and squandered the advantage of the toss. India, for its part, had scripted one of the most compelling turnarounds in recent memory.

Now it is India’s turn to make all the running. 280, tops, seems the most the Proteas can hope for from where they are; conditions are good for batting [though Steyn’s pre-series comment that when you are bowling at 150-plus, the nature of the pitch really doesn’t matter still holds good], and the home team can afford to take the better part of two days to build the sort of score Bajji, with this confidence going for him, can work with.

India has one other advantage going for it – the X factor that is the Eden Gardens itself. That is what I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow – the peculiar buzz that this ground more than any other in the country can create when the home side is doing well.

It is also what I will miss most about tomorrow’s play – the 50,000 spectators who will not be able to stream into the ground, and put the wind behind the home team’s sails.

PS: For those complaining [both in mail and comments] about my being non-responsive: I watched this day’s play partly from my new, and as yet incomplete, home; partly from the Yahoo guest house in Bangalore; partly from an airport lounge. And now I’m writing this, at 1 am, from a hotel room in Bombay where I am overnighting, before an early morning flight to Chandigarh. Sorry, time is a bit of a luxury just now. Back tomorrow night with a take on the day’s play — and back to regular blogging after I return to home base in Bangalore Wednesday. Be well.

Chick pics

My admiration for my good friend Sreenath Sreenivasan, Dean of Student Affairs and Professor at the Columbia Journalism School, is unstinted. And it largely owes to the immense dedication he brings not just to his work but to his self-appointed mission of being the chronicler-in-chief of all things desi in the United States and beyond.

Here’s Sree’s latest find.

Good job with that disclaimer: “I told my wife when we were married 10+ years ago, anything you find on my computer, that’s research.” Good job, cos said wife — Roopa Unnikrishnan — has to her credit a gold medal at the 1998 Commonwealth Games, and silver at the 1998 World Shooting Grand Prix, among a host of other awards.

In shooting.

And don’t let the subject matter of her blog fool you — Roopa still has that look in her eye.

Meanwhile, the good folks at Sepia Mutiny have more on Sonia Dara, swimsuits and such.

The Public versus Indian sport

Suresh Kalmadi has been head of the Indian Olympic Association for 15 years and counting. Professor VK Malhotra has headed India’s archery association for an incredible 31 years now. Sukhdev Dindsa’s stint with the national cycling body is 14 years and counting. J S Gehlot has led the kabbadi association for 24 years and Digivijay Singh has performed a similar role with shooting for 10 years. Abhay Singh Chautala is the chief for boxing (8 years), KPS Gill has been in charge of hockey for 14 years; Captain Satish Sharma, of Sanjay Gandhi era fame (or infamy) has been in the leadership position of the national aero club for 24 years. Rajesh Tiwari is, for 13 years and counting, the head of the national power lifting body; KP Singh Deo is head of the national rowing body, a post he has now held for 9 years…

What does this tell you?

Every single sports body in this country has been systematically converted into the personal fiefdom of politicians; these politicians have de facto tenure for life irrespective of performance or lack thereof.

This fact is at the heart of a Public Interest Litigation that has now been filed in the Delhi High Court by advocate Rahul Mehra, who earlier had hit the headlines for his PIL against the Board of Control for Cricket in India. Long time readers will be familiar with his name and with the BCCI case; for those who are not, these stories, in date-wise order, will provide some background: Help the BCCI clean up its act; Be the change that you want to see; Decontrol cricket.

While the PIL itself has now been admitted and is hence sub judice [and therefore cannot be shared in full], these are the salient points:

Rahul Mehra points out the obvious — that national sports bodies are run not by sportspersons or trained administrators, but by politicians none of whom have shown any interest in furthering the cause of the sport in question; that election to these bodies is fatally flawed, and the rules are designed to keep out sportspersons and able administrators and to facilitate the election of politicians and those whom they seek to favor; that these politicians use national and international events to further their own cause.

In this connection, the PIL points out that during the Sydney Olympics, politicians heading the various Indian sports bodies were hosting parties to canvass support for their candidatures for the ensuing IOA elections]; that increasingly the elections to these bodies have become avenues for large scale corruption, with air tickets, stay in five star hotels and lavish parties coming into play in the run up to the various elections.

The petition points out that the IOA in particular enjoys enormous power of patronage, as it has the power of disaffiliation, de-recognition and suspension of any national sports federation, and that this power has been systematically misused by Suresh Kalmadi and the IOA to further their own interests as opposed to the interests of Indian sport.

Rahul points out that the IOA and the sports federations have been negligent in discharging their duties, with the result that District Olympic Associations, which forms the feeder level for the national bodies, now are largely defunct, participation in school and college level sport is shrinking, and infrastructure is either non-existent or, where it exists, remains inaccessible to players.

Among the examples the PIL sites is that of the Punjab Hockey Association, the basic feeder body of the Indian Hockey Federation that has now been rechristened as Hockey India.  By unwritten convention, Rahul points out, the District Police Chief has been the District Hockey Association President and the Director-General of Police has been President of the Punjab Hockey Association. Thanks to their official duties, neither gentleman has been in a position to pay any attention to developing the sport in their areas — and it is pertinent to point out that during Indian hockey’s heyday, it is from this region that most of the best players came.

Courts have already ruled that sportsmen and administrators, not bureaucrats and politicians, are best suited to run sport. A case in point is Justice Gita Mittal, who in her order dated 2^nd March 2009 in ‘Narender Batra versus Union of India’ was scathing on the subject.

Justice Mittal said that National Sports Federations display complete disinterest with the fate of the sport persons or the glory of the sport.  Complete autonomy and arbitrariness in the functioning of NSFs is, she said, being permitted by the government of India, to the detriment of sport. Players and coaches are unrepresented or under-represented in sports bodies; in short, Mittal said, sports bodies are increasingly run for the administrators, and not for the betterment of the sport in question.

Mehra’s PIL, which is meticulously documented, cites from the National Sports Policy of 2007, in which the government spells out the requirements from the various sports bodies, including making available high quality equipment and infrastructure, developing sports science and sports medicine in the country, providing appropriate coaching facilities and trained coaches for the respective disciplines, picking promising young talent and developing them to international levels, and so on.

Citing examples by the dozen [and in Indian sport, there is no shortage of such examples], Rahul points out how the IOA and the various sports bodies have regularly fallen down on these norms, neglected their duties and even, at times, worked actively to the detriment of the very sports they are supposed to further.

Based on all of this, the petition asks the courts for a set of reliefs, that include:

1. Directing the government to set up a Sports Regulatory Authority to resolve complaints regarding financial irregularities, mismanagement in functioning, biased selection and other grievances;

2. Directing the government to ensure that here on, elections to the IOA and other sports bodies are under the aegis of independent observers appointed by the Chief Election Commissioner of India [this, the petition points out, is necessary as the prevailing practice has been for the IOA to appoint its own "observers" and thus continue the charade of free and fair elections];

3. Ensuring that in accordance with established guidelines, no office bearer of a national sports body hold office for more than a maximum of two terms of four years each;

4. Direct the government of India to ensure that it withdraw with immediate effect official recognition, financial assistance and other benefits such as income and entertainment tax exemptions, stadiums on nominal leases, et cetera to the various sports bodies unless they function in a fashion that is democratic, transparent and accountable;

5. That all sports bodies be legally bound to include in the governing structure not less than 25 per cent of prominent sportspersons and coaches from the respective disciplines;

6. That the government of India de-recognize the Indian Weightlifting Federation for having consistently failed to curb doping among the athletes, and thus having brought the nation at large into disrepute;

7. Direct that the government of India start an immediate independent investigation into the functioning and the accounts of the Indian Olympic Association and the various sports bodies that have been made party to the PIL…

There is more, but you get the gist. And high time, too. None of what Rahul Mehra says, in a PIL so extensive and so minutely detailed it takes a good couple of hours to read through, is new to any of us. Yet, for years we have made the mismanagement of Indian sport the subject of water cooler angst, without doing anything to help rectify the situation.

Finally, someone is going beyond talking about it, and taking active steps to bring Kalmadi and his cohorts to account — more power to him. Incidentally, if you want to add your voice to the concerns expressed in the PIL, you can mail Rahul Mehra at mehraandco at gmail dot com

Open thread, and links

So starting today, am off on yet another odyssey — various travels that keep me away from the desk, and on the road, till late Tuesday evening. Blogging likely to be sporadic/non-existent till then.

Leaving this as an open thread for the duration, folks — will post links to stuff I find, as time permits. You do, too.

#1. For starters, here’s Aakash Chopra on the hows and whys of ball-tampering. Those who make a living out of cricket will tell you that the phenomenon is neither new, nor a virus confined to Pakistan cricket. As below:

I remember being introduced to ball-tampering during my debut first-class season, over a decade ago. Our bowlers were getting alarming movement in the air and off the surface. The ball was rather new (and a new SG ball doesn’t move that much), the track was a typical Kotla track (a batting beauty) and it was the third morning (so no day-one moisture).

I wasn’t playing the game but sitting on the sidelines admiring the quality of bowling on display. When I went in to field as a substitute I realised that our bowlers had tinkered with the ball. One side was still shiny, and even had the manufacturer’s stamp, while the other side was completely scuffed up. Of course they had worked on it beyond imagination, using bottle caps or something equally sharp. I was surprised on two counts: that the umpires didn’t notice the manipulation despite wickets falling at regular intervals (considering umpires get the ball at the fall of every wicket), and that the batting side remained unfazed and didn’t complain. In those days, though, umpires didn’t have so much power or at least they didn’t exercise it as much.

Since then I have realised that ball-tampering does not happen randomly. It is more often than not part of the game plan. Some do it discreetly, while the rest, like Afridi, are either brave or foolish enough to do it blatantly.

Some say it is a craft and I have seen a few craftsmen at work in my time. The use of nails, especially thumbnails, comes in handy. One cricketer used to do it so subtly that you wouldn’t know even if you were standing next to him while he did so. We even challenged him to do it while talking to the umpire once, and he pulled it off, like a pro.

Does this mean, as is being argued in this Time Out discussion between Harsha Bhogle and invited guests, that it is time to give level sanction to ball tampering, to ‘rewrite the ball-tampering law’? I don’t know, but I’d like to start a parallel debate: pickpockets are so darn good, they’ll rob your wallet, and even the watch off your hand, while carrying on a conversation with you — is it therefore time to ‘rewrite the law’ on theft?

What has puzzled me about this whole affair is the question of what the umpires are doing. When ball tampering surfaced on the radar, the rules made it mandatory that the bowler or member of the fielding side had to hand the ball over to the umpire at the end of each over. This was not for safe-keeping — the idea was that the umpire would inspect the ball before handing it back to the bowling side for the start of the next over.

I’d think if the umpires did their job — to wit, used their eyes — the most egregious methods of ball tampering would be immediately stymied. For instance, why did it take the third umpire’s intervention to alert the on-field umpires that Afridi had made a meal of the ball? Surely, when the on field umpire gets the ball at the end of an over and sees bite marks on it, that should be enough to tell him something is wrong? And that in turn should have signaled to him that it is time to change the ball?

Every time something goes wrong, the instinct seems to be to write a whole lot of new laws. How about getting officials to first understand and implement the laws that do exist? [For instance, there is a provision that if the ball has to be changed for reasons of tampering, the batting side gets five bonus runs -- why, when Afridi did the thing with his teeth, was Pakistan not penalized by the addition of those five runs to the opposition's total?]

#2. Continuing the look at Lalit Modi’s attempts to redefine the way news providers operate, Nikhil Pahwa on his blog has some useful information — and links to the guidelines issued by the IPL in each of the three years of its existence. Check them out, and you’ll see what I meant in my previous post, about Modi cleverly seeking to push the boundaries a little bit each year.

The ICC hosts cricket; national associations host cricket — and the coverage for all these matches are governed by various norms. For instance, there is a restriction on the number of correspondents that can be assigned from any one news organization — a sensible guideline, since space for the media is finite, and you don’t want a newspaper to send a dozen reporters under the guise of ‘coverage’. There are also restrictions against the use of ‘live’ feeds — which too make sense, since live broadcast is assigned to a particular broadcasting house on payment of a huge fee, and that investment needs to be protected against pirates disseminating that feed.

The norms governing coverage of these events are, long story short, well known and time-honored. What is special about the IPL, which after all is a league run under the BCCI umbrella, that it feels the need to come up with its own set of rules? [Modi, cleverly, tends to wait till the last possible minute before issuing his "guidelines" -- a neat trick to force the media, as the clock ticks down to the event, to compromise rather than lose out on coverage altogether].

There has been some back channel talk among media houses, some attempt to organize the major players into a form of organized resistance. But thus far, to the best of my knowledge, there has been no indication that the media will take a collective stand. That’s a pity, because Modi’s “guidelines” need to be resisted by the media presenting a united face.

Consider, for instance, this bit from the guidelines:

A Bona Fide News Media Website means a Website:

• that is owned (directly and indirectly), run and managed by an organisation whose primary business solely concerns the provision of news to the public; and
• no material part of that organisation’s business involves the sale, distribution or supply of any goods or services other than the provision of news to the public (and associated advertising placed alongside that news);

I’m no lawyer, but that second clause seems to me unacceptable. Consider that today, any website worth the name — and the traffic — does not depend entirely on news to generate income. There is e-commerce, for starters, and diverse other revenue streams. Why is the IPL concerned with how a website makes its money, as long as an integral part of its business remains the dissemination of news? [Another problem with this clause is its ambiguous phrasing, which then leaves it open to the IPL to interpret it any way it wants. For instance, this clause could be applied to prevent Cricinfo from covering the IPL, no -- after all, it does have a shop that sells books and cricket goods, and that contravenes the IPL proscription that "no material part of that organisation's business involves the sale, distribution or supply of any goods or services other than the provision of news."

The problem is -- has always been -- that the media is not united on this [or any] issue. This permits the Modis of this world to whittle away at our rights and prerogatives, taking a mile and then giving an inch as “compromise”.

Anyone talking PIL yet?

#3. Oh good. In breaking news, the ICC has dismissed the BCCI’s appeal to have the ban on the Firozeshah Kotla lifted. Good, because it is high time the BCCI and its affiliated state units start doing their job — which includes maintaining grounds and pitches at match-ready levels — rather than sleep on that job and then, when something happens, use its clout and/or find legal means around justified punishment. The Kotla is actually lucky to get away light –the suspension is only till the end of 2010, so it will not impact on the ground’s ability to host WC2011 games. Since no games are scheduled at the Kotla this year, the upholding of the ban has no direct impact on the ground, but hopefully, this serves as a wake up call for Arun Jaitley and the other DDCA honchos — there is more to running an association than merely turning up in the VIP enclosure on match days, and preening for the media cameras.

#4. Kind courtesy my friend Krishna Prasad, a brilliant read: Garry Kasparov, writing in the NYTimes Review of Books, on chess computers, grand masters, and man versus machine.

[More, later -- as and when I find time and interesting content].

Here we go again…

The IPL management — ‘management’, where IPL is concerned, is like ‘high command’ for the Congress party; an inclusive term in theory, but in practice a reference to one man — in the inaugural year of the tournament came up with a series of draconian regulations relating to media coverage that led to a media boycott and a subsequent, partial, climb down by the tournament organizers.

The second edition was in South Africa, so we were spared the unnecessary drama — but now that we are back in India, here we go again.

The media treats cricket events as news; by definition, transmission of news has to be as close to real time as it is possible to get. For that reason, the IPL’s restrictions will prove unacceptable:

The guidelines specify that TV news channels can use no more than 30 seconds of fresh footage from the IPL per bulletin and not more than 120 seconds for a match. Further, there is a 7-minute limit for a full day. Repeats are allowed no more than three times a day against the earlier four.

The guidelines also stipulate a minimum delay of 30 minutes from the live telecast against just five minutes in 2008. Live telecast means the entire period from the first ball to post-match ceremonies.

Live streaming on the broadcaster’s own websites, which was allowed in the 2008 season will no longer be allowed. Nor is deferred or archived footage allowed to be displayed on the broadcaster’s own or a third party website.

As for use of archival footage until the next season, all that is permitted under the new guidelines is a maximum of two clips of 30 seconds each per day against the earlier two minutes per day.

You could argue that the IPL owns the event, and can decide just how it should be covered. Fair enough, if that is the way Modi and his cohorts want to go. Where it really becomes amusing, though, is when the IPL decides to redefine the meaning of websites:

One change that could prove really problematic for the media in the long run is the manner in which the guidelines define “bona fide news magazine” and “bona fide news media website”. These make it clear that a news magazine will qualify as such only if its “business solely concerns the provision of news to the public” and “no part of that magazine’s business involves the sale, distribution or supply of any goods or services other than the provision of news to the public.”

Similarly, a website will qualify for carrying IPL content only if it is “owned (directly and indirectly), run and managed by an organization whose primary business solely concerns the provision of news to the public.”

This means life-style or travel magazines, for instance, are ruled out from carrying IPL content. The guidelines also place restrictions on the nature of the ownership of media organizations that are eligible, for reasons that are far from clear.

The ToI, where this report appears, seems to be concerned with the fate of lifestyle and travel magazines — but there could be far greater concerns than that. For instance, consider the clause that a website will be defined as such only if its primary business concerns the provision of news.

Who defines what my primary business is — you, or I? And since when does the organizer of an event get to restrict media based on its ownership pattern?

What Modi has done is sown the seeds for a clash with the media — and for once, managed to unite print, television and the internet against a common enemy. A friend suggested, on our way to work this morning, that Modi was being a bit of a doofus — surely he should have learnt from the 2008 fiasco?

I suspect that assessment does not give Modi due credit. His goal has always been clear — he wants to squeeze out as many sections of the media as he can manage, or otherwise put restrictions on them that will reduce their coverage to the irrelevant. This way, he clears the decks for the IPL’s own website to gain a monopolistic hold on the event, which he can then squeeze for further revenue. Alternately, he has the option of selling chunks of content to “exclusive” media partners of his choosing, for mega bucks.

He is shrewd enough to understand that he cannot achieve that objective in one stroke — so his preferred option seems to be, each season, to come up with a slate of laws that are clearly unacceptable. The media will talk boycott; Modi will in turn talk compromise. And knowing that the media is hungry for anything it can get, he will make a few “concessions”, the media will proclaim a victory — and Modi will be the one laughing last, for despite those “concessions” he will reluctantly acquiesce to under “media pressure”, he would have managed to get many restrictions in place, and institutionalized.

He can then wait for season four, and start the dance all over again. And each season, he will get a little more, and be that bit further along on the road to the complete monopoly that is his ultimate goal.

PS: There’s a Test on, and opportunities for the likes of Vijay and Badri, not to mention the veterans Tendulkar and Dhoni, to make strong statements. Should be fascinating; personally, I’m hoping to see the team recover from its shock of yesterday and come out fighting. Not that I can see much of it — a day of serial meetings lies ahead; I’ll be mostly away from the desk, therefore. See you guys early evening.

All fall down

The very best of Virender Sehwag was on view today. So was the very worst.

[That sense of schizophrenia did not apply to the rest of the side – with the honorable exception of Badrinath, who celebrated his long awaited call up with a level-headed half century before triggering the post-tea slide, what we got from the rest was their unalloyed worst].

While the other batsmen, lulled by a two year diet of largely batsman-friendly tracks and the kind of “pace” provided by teams such as Sri Lanka, Bangladesh et al, seemed completely overawed by the speed and fire of Dale Steyn and Morne Morkel, Sehwag motored along at a health one day rate, taking 34 off 38 Steyn deliveries and 21 off 38 from Morkel.

More than the runs scored, what stood out was the application Sehwag brought to his task. While Gambhir, Vijay and Tendulkar collapsed around him, Sehwag batted in his own zone, defending when it seemed to be called for and counter-punching whenever the bowler lapsed even marginally in line and length.

As his innings developed the Proteas, despite being well in control, seemed to be feeling the heat – the bowlers resorted to defensive lines, the fielders dropped back a few yards, and debutant Badrinath was able to find his feet under the senior batsman’s shelter.

And then, shortly after he had gotten to his hundred and the water cooler conversation had turned to his penchant for scoring big once past the century mark, Sehwag threw it away with a flashy shot he had no business playing.

With Sehwag and Badri looking assured against the quick guns, Smith had been forced to turn to his second, and even third, string bowlers. Wayne Parnell, who Sehwag had taken for 24 runs off 17 deliveries faced, resorted to bowling as wide of off stump as he could, under the more lenient Test norms, get away with. Sehwag could have let them go all day, but after four successive deliveries wide of off, the batsman chased at the fifth, sliced it to the cover fielder standing back on his haunches, and walked off shaking his head.

If he was as disappointed as he looked at having given it up, his team mates gave him a chance to get over it – a spectacular post tea collapse against the extreme pace and reverse swing of Steyn, that saw India lose six wickets in 46 deliveries for 12 runs, gave Sehwag a second chance.

He came out swinging – through the slips, over cover, whatever, in a display as ugly as it was unexpected. Steyn made one climb outside off; Sehwag let it go, chastised himself for his leniency and mimed the upper cut that he, at least by his lights, should have been playing. Before you had the time to say ‘bad idea, dude’, he went for the next ball, fuller outside off, got the edge, and found a delighted Smith at first slip.

The best of Sehwag, the worst of Sehwag, all in one day that saw India get a long delayed comeuppance against genuine pace. Much was made of the reverse swing the Indian bowlers had tried, and failed, to find when the Proteas were batting. In a devastating day long display, Morkel and Steyn showed that even on relatively harmless tracks, sheer pace through the air can smash past the defenses of good batsmen [Gambhir, Vijay, Tendulkar in the first innings before Sehwag and Badri steadied the ship] and that a quick bowler operating with the older ball, bowling the full length at extreme pace, can harness reverse to lethal effect [Steyn, whose post tea spell read 3.5-2-1-5].

During the euphoric period when India under MS Dhoni were unbeaten in Tests, there was always the nagging thought that somewhere, some time, the “law of averages” was going to kick in. More accurately, there was the thought that one of these days we would find ourselves against opposition that didn’t have names stretching 140 characters.

Ironically, India found such opposition only because the BCCI, seduced by the team’s statistical feat of climbing to the top of the Test charts, saw the sponsorship opportunity inherent in a “World Championship” Test series, and managed to shoe-horn one into the calendar.

It may not seem like it at the time, but this series is already proving to be a blessing – we can finally put our sense of notional superiority aside and find out exactly where we stand in terms of being a high quality Test side, and start work on building the sort of team that doesn’t require a buffet of Bangladesh and Sri Lanka to climb ranking ladders.

It could be a process that involves some considerable short-term pain, but it could also be the start of a team building exercise in the real sense.