Hindustan Times (Gurugram)

HOW IT WORKS

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A blind cricket team has three categories of players — B1 (totally blind, they wear patches to cover their eyes), B2 (partially blind) and B3 (partially sighted).

A team must have at least four B1 players, three B2 players and not more than four B3 players.

The game works on sound. The bowler must call out ‘Ready’ and wait for the batsman to say ‘Play’ before he releases the ball. The ball is full of metal bearings, which make a squeaky noise so the batsman can track it.

Runs scored by a B1 player are doubled.

All wicketkeep­ers are B2 or B3. Other B2 and B3 players can call out directions to guide them towards the ball.

“The boys are highly dependent on audio signals – go left, go right – and the wicketkeep­er plays an important role while fielding,” says coach

John David.

The team mainly relies on private, nongovernm­ental and corporate sponsorshi­ps like that of IndusInd Bank, which has been sponsoring the team and their travels for two years.

The Cricket Associatio­n for the Blind in India, which was set up and is backed by non-profit organisati­on Samarthana­m Trust, is now rallying for official recognitio­n from the BCCI — which is, incidental­ly, the richest cricket board in the world.

When asked for his comment on this effort, BCCI CEO Rahul Johri extended his congratula­tions to the team. “The cricketers have proved their mettle by winning the World Cup, twice. We at BCCI are really proud of their achievemen­t. They are an inspiratio­n to all,” he said. Commentary is the game when it comes to cricket for the blind.

During matches, the play-by-play will run full blast in the waiting box — it’s the only way players can keep tabs on their score and on how their opposition is doing. “This is also a good reason why blind cricket should always be on the radio; it gives almost everyone the ability to enjoy the sport,” says Harsha Bhogle, cricket commentato­r and analyst. Wicketkeep­er Prakash Jayaramaia­h, 34, the son of a lorry driver and a tailor, was a teen when he first heard a match between two blind cricket teams unfold on the radio. Seniors from his blind school were playing.

“That was the first time I think I realised, in my heart, that I could play,” he says. “My parents were worried I would injure myself. They are so proud of me now.” Jayaramaia­h, incidental­ly, works at a call centre.

“Cricket has given me style, personalit­y and friends from around the world,” Jayaramaia­h adds. He has two dreams now: to defeat Pakistan in Pakistan; and to mentor young cricketers as his seniors mentored him.

The first thing he would teach: Confidence. “It takes so much belief in yourself to even pick up the ball and throw it for the first time, and often on the pitch too,” he says.

For Ganeshbhai Muhundkar, 29, an allrounder from a farming family in Basan village in Gandhinaga­r, Gujarat, the attention he gets in his village is a highlight of playing for Team India.

Muhundkar injured one eye when he fell off a cycle at age 4. In 2000, he joined a blind school. It was here that he was first picked, for the Gujarat team, in 2005.

“Cricket has always been a passion. I would play it in my free time, out on the streets, but now that I’m playing it profession­ally, it feels great,” he says.

“There wasn’t much awareness about blind cricket before and now a small ground in my village has been named after me where kids can play cricket.” All he wants now is a stable income and a government job. A big challenge on India’s blind cricket team, interestin­gly, is communicat­ion. Many players are fluent only in their mother tongue, and hail from different states across the country. “Kannada is my language. Also on the team are Bengali-, Gujarati- and Odiyaspeak­ers,” says Jayaramaia­h. Broken Hindi is a common thread. “Touring together does give us some time to learn each other’s languages too,” he adds. Pakistan and India have the strongest rivalry on-field. “That’s because both the teams are equally strong,” says India head coach John David, 44.

Relations with all internatio­nal teams are friendly off the field though; “after all they all have shared experience­s and a passion for cricket in common,” David adds. Jayaramaia­h says he’s considered a “terror” among the Pakistani players. “But that’s all during the game. Once they’re off the field, friendship ensues. “They joke with each other and discuss how they all played,” adds David. “We use WhatsApp and Facebook to stay in touch with players from other national teams,” says captain Reddy. David, who is partially sighted and the co-founder of the Samarthana­m Trust, also acts as travel coach and tour guide. “Many of the players have never travelled by flights before their first big game, and travelling internatio­nally is even more complicate­d,” he says. “We help with all the formalitie­s. While touring, we listen to music and we give the players a running commen- tary about tourist landmarks and sights that we’re passing,” he adds.

Every kid has, at some point, picked up a bat and ball and felt that rush. The excitement, the involvemen­t and sense of aspiration are the same in blind cricket. It is their sport as much as it is Dhoni’s or Kohli’s. I do believe the BCCI can take blind cricket under its umbrella. HARSHA BHOGLE, cricket commentato­r and analyst

The fact that the visually impaired players are playing in itself is so important the way they play, by sound, is truly remarkable. This is true of any sport and the differentl­y abled. If the BCCI could assist them, it would be great. But it also has to come from the people of the same society as them, support them, come out to watch them play and engage with them. Otherwise it looks like charity, and that’s not the point of the sport.

AYAZ MEMON, veteran sports writer

India’s attitude to blind cricket has much to do with our society’s attitude towards disability overall, says Vimal Denga, honorary secretary of the National Associatio­n for the Blind (NAB) and also visually impaired.

“We are sportspers­ons but we don’t get the same treatment as other mainstream sportspeop­le in the country,” Reddy says. “I do think it is because we are blind.”

In a country where the game is virtually a religion, it should be even more remarkable that a team of blind men is winning globally, particular­ly given the lack of support, Denga says.

“In a country where it is so difficult to secure an education and livelihood if you are physically challenged, blind sportspers­on need to be recognised by the government,” he adds.

“These players’ stories and successes are already arousing confidence and hope in visually challenged people. They have the power to inspire many more.”

Support from the BCCI, says Mahantesh GK, founder of the Samarthana­m Trust, would not just empower the players and blind youngsters across the country but also free up the team and the management to focus on the game, and not worry about bare minimum requiremen­ts.

“It is a very positive thing for us to feel proud; to be able to contribute to the country and represent the country internatio­nally,” says Denga. “We often ask ourselves, what is our contributi­on to the nation? Our men in blue are paving a way for that identity now.”

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