The series was tied 2-2 and with the amount of rain that Toronto had received, there was a very real chance that it would end that way. One of them tried to peer out of the bar. ``I hope it rains tomorrow,'' he said wistfully, ``This two-all scoreline suits us, I would like to go home tomorrow.''
His colleague, a more accomplished cricketer, wasn't having any. ``Are you mad?'' he demanded of his junior colleague. ``We have to win the Sahara Cup first!''
This little snippet tells me more than an entire tome could about the condition of India cricket. Ever since that World Cup quarter final at Bangalore, Pakistan believes that a defeat against India is possible. More important, India are now convinced that the cloak of invincibility that their opponents wore has now been shed. This subtle, but crucial difference in the way the two teams now look at each other was what made the Sahara Cup a fascinating tournament to watch.
The better team still won, and that is how it often is in sport. But the more revealing performance came from the Indians who had two of the top three scorers and the highest wickettaker.
Amidst the maddening inconsistency that haunts India's batting, like a hidden malarial parasite coming alive periodically, two men stood out. Both had a lot to prove and they did it with rare artistry and skill.
Like another fallen star from his home state, Mohammad Azharuddin's future lay scattered beside him rather than ahead of him when he returned from England. Like in the case of P V Narasimha Rao, the word 'former' seemed to stare at him everywhere.
But unlike the politician, Azhar remained the master of his destiny and in Toronto, he eased himself into top gear again. It was noticeable that his bat was a lot straighter than it has been in recent times and he was squeezing the ball into gaps with the command of old.
It had seemed inconceivable that with Azharuddin in form, another man could make batting seem as attractive. But Rahul Dravid shone as brightly as the man whose record he hopes to emulate. At times he even surpassed his hero, especially when he was pulling the spinners. Dravid's ambition doesn't announce itself loudly, his determination to succeed is shrouded underneath an apparent diffidence in him. But that determination is all too visible when he walks out to bat. He is not the shy young man anymore, but an international batsman who believes in himself. In Toronto, it was the quality of his strokeplay as much as his temperament that impressed the experts, and whoever it was who decided that Dravid would bat at numebr three in the one-dayers can look back at a decision well taken.
It seems to augur well for the Indian side that the two young men who have made such an impact in the last six months are very attractive strokeplayers. There is something very pleasing about the way both Ganguly and Dravid meet the ball. There is in them an elegance that a lot of batsmen spend years searching for, and my idea of a great afternoon would be watching a Test match on a good wicket with Ganguly caressing the ball through the off side and Dravid playing it off his toes in the arc between mid on and square leg.
Sadly, at Toronto, Ganguly had so little to do. In theory, the decision to leave him out might have been appropriate if Kambli had been in good form. But the brilliant young man is struggling, and much as he tries to laugh away the encroachment around his middle, he cannot deny that its presence is an indicator of a lack of discipline. Kambli in form is the perfect batsman to come in at number five in a one-day international, and maybe the tour selection committee gambled on that. But in doing so, they risked causing great damage to the confidence of another young man.
From being on top of the world, Ganguly was reduced to hoping that he got a game. For no reason his temperament, which till recently wasn't his strong point, will now be sorely tested. It cannot help him that his cricketing friends from Calcutta are making strange noises over his omission. To critcise is a prerogative that one can use, to hint at conspiracy in fairly provocative language is to put unnecessary pressure on the young man. What these rabblerousers do not realise, and it might have been a good idea to speak to Ganguly before proclaiming this strange support to him, is that they have now put him in a situation where he simply has to succeed. If he doesn't he risks ridicule from a passionate audience. A couple of failures and I can already imagine people saying 'So this is the young man you were making such a noise about.' So often, in trying to do good we do untold harm and this is perhaps what Ganguly needs to tell his friends.
In private he is aghast at the attention his omission has received. But as the new cultural hero of Calcutta, I suspect he finds himself imprisoned by his supporters. In Toronto, he seemed quite calm and it is imperative that he stay that way. He knows that the decision to drop him was wrong, but he also knows that the way to show that is by scoring more runs and not by using up newsprint. I am glad he thinks that way, because should he toe the line of passion and look upon himself as a martyr when there is so much life in him, he can only lose.
Ganguly would do well to have a quiet little word with Anil Kumble who, to my mind, was the biggest success of the Sahara Cup and an easy choice for the man of the series. On the surface, Kumble seems shy, even self -effacing. Underneath, he is a rock. There is little that can sway him. And he carries himself with dignity. It is a virtue that Ganguly will need in abundance, and if Kumble's company should allow that to rub off on him, may be they should have dinner every night!
If the performances of Dravid, Azhar and Kumble caused us to cheer, the biggest one of them all was still reserved for Sachin Tendulkar. In only his second tournament as captain of India, he seemed like he had been leading the side for ten years. There was a decisiveness to his movements and his innate aggression was reflected in his field placings and bowling changes. There were enough indications at Toronto that his side was willing to respond, and if Tendulkar can unleash the fire and pride that is latent in every sportsman, in his teammates, he might even do a greater job for India as its captain than he is expected to as its best batsman.
I'd like to believe that part of the credit for the hungry look that the Indians seemed to have should go to the manager. For that reason, the decision to remove Sandeep Patil came as a bit of a shock. It is a fair argument that he hadn't produced results and so the need for a new man existed. But in management decision making, you also have to spot trends and try and follow them. At Toronto, India showed the first signs of a new spirit and they fielded better than I have seen them field for a very long time. These are two very strong indicators of a determined side and for that alone, he deserved to stay.
Determination is also a word associated with his successor, Madan Lal, a man who didn't quite have the ability that Patil had, but produced more out of it than most Indian cricketers. In his prime, he was an outstanding fielder and so, in theory, he should make an excellent coach. But he now has to join a bus that is already moving one way. It has been said that his role will encompass less than what Patil's did, and that his main job will be to maintain fitness levels and see that the team is alert in the field.
For a team that is looking ahead, it is a limited role, but a valuable one.