INDIAN’S TRUE GRIT INSPIRES
IT’S a world of coloured clothes, fastfood batting and unaccountable batsmen, who use the catchphrase “that’s how I play,” which in truth means “my technique and concentration are poor so I need a get-out-of-jail card by using those shallow, selfish words”.
But Cheteshwar Pujara showed us on day one of the opening Test that technique, skill, unshakeable temperament and patience are still the ideal ingredients in the recipe to be successful at the highest level.
His team was in dire straights as the Australian pace attack threatened to demolish India in the opening session in Adelaide.
It was an outstanding display of old-fashioned guts and determination. It was Allan Border-esque. Sadly his remarkable knock came to a sad conclusion trying to steal a single very late in the day when he misread the athleticism of Pat Cummins.
It was a brilliant piece of fielding by Cummins but a horrible way for Pujara to depart. He deserved more.
His brave innings may well prove crucial in not only this Test match but also perhaps in the complexion of the entire series.
In turbulent waters he steered a leaking boat to safety.
When the ball swung and nipped about early he played it late, under his watchful eyes.
He restrained from pushing hard at the moving ball, which undid many of his teammates who got more nicks than a teenage shaver.
The Indians lacked discipline with the bat and perished as a result.
They lunged, they groped and wafted wide at full swerving balls. Their reckless display allowed the home team the points at the start of a much anticipated Test series.
Winning the toss and batting first in Adelaide on a hot dry day, only to be dismissed under 300 is totally unacceptable and generally unheard of in those parts.
Pujara was the exception. He made our fast bowlers work hard and defended his wicket like his life depended on it.
He played with restraint and within his batting framework. Rarely did he venture into dangerous territory.
His team needed substance and he delivered in spades. When a bad ball was delivered, which were few and far between, he dispatched it with minimal fuss.
His innings should be put in the Test match batting archives files at Cricket Australia and regularly produced when our insipid shortform bashers roll out “that’s how I play”.
We are living in a world where instant gratification is sought.
Batsmen seem to have a sense of entitlement before they have really learnt the true art of batting.
The modern player argues that the game has changed and us old dinosaurs must get up to speed.
What hasn’t changed is when the going gets tough the tough still get going.
Pujara is tough, because he is mentally strong. It’s a crucial element in batting that has been lost on most in these fast-food days.
He gets his kicks by occupying the crease and denying the bowler any easy kill.
His ability to negate Nathan Lyon was another feature of his innings.
He used his feet to smother the spin when Lyon flighted the ball above the eyes.
He equally played deep in the crease when the off spinner’s trajectory was below eye level.
His feet were crisp and decisive, which put pressure on the spinner to land with unnerving accuracy.
Lyon bowled well but Pujara refused to succumb. It was magnificent Test cricket. The easy option and weak excuse from our batsmen is “that’s how I play”.
Perhaps Justin Langer needs to bin this line and replay Pujara’s innings to our top order.
Sometimes the team requires more than crash and bash. It’s only those players with real intestinal fortitude that are able to adjust their game when required.
The art of gritty, ugly batting is something we have lost in our country since the inception of the shortest format of the game.
Former Australian captain Allan Border made a career out of these traits and in doing so won our complete and total respect.
“His (Pujara’s) innings should be put in the Test match batting archives files at Cricket Australia and regularly produced when our insipid short-form bashers roll out ‘that’s how I play’.”