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Right stuff
The book, all 243 pages of it, is an absolute delight. Extremely well written, it has a delectable, unpretentious style, with an easy humour, which, when not self-deprecating, is never with malice. You never get the sense that Wright is taking himself too seriously and the feeling that pervades the volume is one of affectionate concern for, and pride in, Team India, not to mention the millions of Indian fans, who, he never tires of repeating, deserve a great cricket team. You want "anecdotes"? Consider this. In that unforgettable tour of Australia in 2003, Sachin managed just one 50 before the Sydney test. He had a chat with John, and then decided that he "wouldn’t play through cover or square off the front foot because that was where he was getting out." In Sydney he scored 241, his highest score in tests, with only 53 runs coming from the off side. That is the kind of material that makes a great cricket book, the kind of stuff that one savours with pleasure and thinks about for a long time afterwards. He also conveys the magic that is Indian batting at its best. "My stock line was that I enjoyed watching them bat in the middle more than in the nets. Which wasn’t entirely true: some of the batting I saw in the nets was out of this world." Or how, at his first practice session with the players as India coach, a youngster "started with four magnificent shots, timed to perfection. Christ, I thought, this boy can bat; he must be the opening batsman, Shiv Sunder Das. When I sought confirmation I was told, no, that’s Ajit Agarkar, our opening bowler." And, also, the batting’s fragility, for a variety of reasons. Wright can be extremely critical, but he is never indiscrete. For the more scathing observations about players, he refrains from mentioning names. There is confirmation of what every cricket fan knows. Too much time is spent in studios shooting advertisements. After the extended hangover of the win in Pakistan, he asks a player how much practice he had the previous week. None. The bloke had to shoot four ad spots. The book, before launch, attracted a lot of attention for Wright’s assessment of the Indian selection process. While it drew immediate flak, the fact of the matter is that everyone concerned about Indian cricket should read these sections very carefully indeed. While it was always known that the zonal system and the predilection of zonal selectors to push for their own players was compromising selection, the degree to which it is harming talent and preventing the best possible team from going out there, is laid bare. Much has been made already about the Sourav Ganguly saga. Wright makes it clear that there were disagreements. He also says that there was a clear case for a leadership change in the last season, and lets you know why without going into too much detail. He brings home the excitement and cricketing achievements of that glorious tour to Pakistan, the World Cup and the victories against Australia at home and away. And the agony of some stupid losses. You will get some answers to long held questions. Wright has been slammed for being "a defensive coach", citing how he held back declaration on the fifth morning of the "VVS Laxman test" in Calcutta against Australia. He did that he says, because "the Aussies didn’t like being played out of a game to the point that all they could do was hang on for a draw." Or in the World Cup final. John did want to bat first. It was Sourav, Dravid and the others who wanted to bowl first and Wright went along. In the end, Wright’s achievement is significant. It is the most important book about Indian cricket to come out in recent years and should be read for a long time to come. But for all its value in terms of any "lessons," its primary pleasure if for the cricket fan. Reading it is like spending a wonderful day on a cricket pitch under blue skies, with the smell of leather. And with its insights on board, watching the Indian team play will never quite be the same again.
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