Tiger safaris and poppadum pitches in Nagpur
NAGPUR: Airport – hotel – ground – city. And vast gaps of nothingness in between, where even the number of locals seems to be strangely lacking. They said that there wasn’t much to Nagpur. They were not wrong.
There is a highway that links these four, fundamental corners of the city. It’s a national road, and Nagpur sits like a roadside cafe on the way to Hyderabad, from goodness knows where.
In a funny way, the location of the stadium, 10km out of the city, is perfect for both teams. They escape the chaos of the inner city, though the penalty for that is a complete lack of options when it comes to switching off around the hotel.
After the buzz of Bangalore, there is almost an eerie silence around Nagpur. Perhaps it is the calm before the cricketing storm. And, judging by the parched nature of the pitch, perhaps that storm will be a short, sharp one.
The stadium in Nagpur is also a pleasant surprise, like many of the world-class cricket facilities found in barren surrounds around the rest of India. From Indore to Rajkot, and now to Nagpur, Indian cricket has found a way to make first-world impressions on quaint little towns with nothing but love for the game.
The most important part of the venue – those critical 22 yards – is anything but Lord’s. Three days out of the match, it was already looking drier than that slice you forget in the toaster all day.
“I haven’t seen the wicket yet, but I guess I will have to after this press conference, now that you asked,” J P Duminy chirped in response to the opening question fired at him yesterday.
“I guess the expectancy is that it will take turn.”
Duminy’s expectations are spot on, even if the head groundsman, a self-professing expert of 20 years, swears that his track will provide an “even playing field, only”.
Which in itself is funny, because there is a drop of at least 30cm in elevation – much like Lord’s – from one side to the other.
“Geographical complications,” came the explanation from the track-suited sage who protects his patch with his life, or at least a rope that hints at no visitors.
When the South Africans nipped over to have a look, he stopped short of telling them to take off their shoes. It’s probably to ensure that a stray spike doesn’t reveal the poppadum-esque playing surface before a ball has been bowled.
“It was watered yesterday, and I will think about some more water tonight,” he promised, when my broken Hindi voiced grave concern about the match lasting more than three days.
“Boy, this is a beautiful wicket,” he insisted, before telling me that any extra days should be spent on safari, where one is 100% guaranteed to see a tiger.
“Many hundreds in Ranji Trophy matches here. Total of 400-500, minimum,” he explained dropping his tourism board hat, and going back to his primary duty.
“But, as you must understand, fellow, Ranji Trophy not facing up to Ashwin bhai,” he glistened, as his cheeky dig was met with a smile. These days, even the pitch masters aren’t shy at a dig about frailties against spin. Curator quirks aside, the South Africans were not surprised by the nature of the wicket, and they know that they will have to find a way to make it work, regardless.
“We always knew that it was going to be a tough tour,” Duminy said. “The way it’s gone so far, we’d be pretty proud of our achievements, bar that first Test, obviously.
“We always knew there would come a time when we would be challenged quite a bit. It’s how you come back from those challenges that is going to make us a team, and we pride ourselves on that; that we are resilient, and we never back down from a challenge.”
The challenge is very real for the South Africans now.
They must find a way to win these next two matches, because only rain provides draws in India. Groundsmen who have side-gigs as tour operators simply do not produce feather-beds.
After all, they have tiger safaris to flog.