India and fielding — from flashes of brilliance to a consistent sparkle Premium
The Hindu
Epictetus' philosophy on self-control and self-awareness applies to cricket fielding, a crucial discipline in modern cricket.
“No great thing is created suddenly.” So said Epictetus, the Greek philosopher born into slavery and who was influenced, among others, by Socrates and Hippocrates.
Epictetus was certainly not referring to fielding and/or catching when he made that remark. He was a stoic philosopher who taught that it was ‘most important to know oneself and have internal control over thoughts and emotions’. These tenets are keys to success in any walk of life, so why not transpose them to cricket too, in general, and to fielding, more specifically?
The era of picking extraordinary batters alone or exceptional bowlers alone, even if they were downright poor fielders, is long past. Even before the 20-over bug bit the sport in the first half of the 2000s, fielding had come to be accepted as a third crucial discipline, not just an addendum to batting or bowling. Some of the great teams of the past had either electric fielders or assured catchers or both. Indeed, according to Sunil Gavaskar, the greatest Indian fielding team of all time was the one that clinched the World Championship of Cricket crown in Melbourne in 1985, a side that was replete with all-rounders in every sense of the term.
The profusion of T20 cricket has triggered new approaches and elevated fielding to a glorious spectacle. Boundary-line catches where the fielder somehow manages to latch on to the ball, toss it up in the air when they are about to cross the rope, and then comes back into nonchalantly pouching it, are no longer the exception. They also don’t come about by accident. One only needs to watch a fielding session of an age-group state side, let alone a franchise or a senior international outfit, to see how meticulously and uncompromisingly the players attempt and complete what once were considered outrageous snaffles.
There is no denying the fact that the T20 format has compelled fielders to become better and better. Tales of Colin Bland hitting one stump time after time are legendary and have attained a mythical status because there isn’t ready or extensive television footage, but when Jonty Rhodes, all bustle and energy and athleticism and low centre of gravity, showcased his brilliance upon South Africa’s return from isolation in 1991, the cricket world was truly captivated. Thousands flocked the ground to merely watch the Rhodes show, though it must not be forgotten that possibly the first cricketer to win a Player of the Series award primarily for his catching was Gavaskar himself.
At the four-nation Rothmans Cup in Sharjah in 1985, almost immediately after their unbeaten run to the WCC crown, India expertly defended 125 against Pakistan – Gavaskar made only two but held four catches – in the semifinal and then edged out Australia by three wickets in a low-scoring final. The Aussies were bowled out for 139 with Gavaskar taking the catch that got rid of their highest scorer, Kepler Wessels (30). Gavaskar, who had ceded the captaincy to Kapil Dev after leading the side to the Melbourne high, was run out for 20 during India’s stuttering chase. His net returns for the tournament were 22 runs and five catches.
Until three and a half months back, the most talked-about catch in Indian cricket was the one Kapil took at Lord’s on 25 June 1983, in the final of the last 60-over World Cup. With Viv Richards threatening to make India’s 183 appear remarkably miniscule and Madan Lal imploring his captain to give him one more over so that he could have another crack at the great Antiguan, Kapil obliged, then ran a million miles back from mid-wicket to grab the pull that seemed destined to send the ball towards the ropes. Kapil’s loping strides and fierce focus as he kept his eyes on the ball over his left shoulder left no room for doubt long before he had completed the formalities. One just knew that there was no way he was not going to hold on to the catch; such is the lot of geniuses that we take even amazing slices of brilliance for granted.