Cricket Revolution sweeping through India
From The Times of London in The Australian
Revolution sweeping through India
By Simon Wilde
April 24, 2006
SPACE is tight in the cities of India. There is never enough of it to do what you want and the dozen or so young colts at the National Cricket Club of India are packed tight together as their coach supervises drills before their Friday afternoon net session.
Sandip, one of the smallest boys in the group, struggles to make himself heard above the cacophony around the Azad maidan as Mumbai's rush-hour traffic roars past.
"One! Two! Three! Four! Five!" he shouts as he and his teammates wield their bats through the sequence of manoeuvres that make up the back-foot defensive stroke.
Each of these boys dreams of playing for India but their hopes may be more credible than most because one of their recent predecessors at the club, Wasim Jaffer, who scored a century in the first Test against England in Nagpur this month, has successfully made the journey from this scruffy patch of red earth to the world's Test arenas.
They may also believe that, living in one of the greatest cricketing nurseries the world has seen, they hold an advantage over other parts of India. Jaffer is only the latest in a long line of batsmen nurtured in Mumbai, among them many of India's greatest, such as Vijay Merchant, Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar.
But India is changing. The economy has grown rapidly over the past 20 years and the boom is altering Indian society. The affluence has spread far beyond the main cities that historically wielded power in countless areas of society, cricket included: Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata, Chennai, and, to a lesser extent, Hyderabad and Bangalore.
In 1991, India had 23 cities with a population of one million or more, now there are 35. And these places are enjoying economic success. Reports suggest property prices in what are known as Tier II and III cities have jumped between 25 and 40 percent.
This has had a direct impact on the demographics of cricket and in particular the make-up of the Test team. A generation ago, the sport was dominated by the sons of lawyers, bank officers and bureaucrats - in other words the affluent sections of society based in metropolitan cities.
Research carried out by Richard Cashman, an Australian academic, in the late 1970s into the social backgrounds of India's 143 Test cricketers revealed that only seven had been born in villages.
The level of education was also strikingly high: 81 were graduates and 49 others held high school certificates. The system operated like a closed shop, with those of the right social background preferred to those from rural districts.
Kapil Dev, India's greatest all rounder, was born in Chandigarh and was viewed as almost a freak when he emerged in 1978 as he came from a region that had produced almost no cricketer of note. He went on to captain the side and win the 1983 World Cup.
But India is a smaller place these days. Only the most remote villages would be without televisions, and television in India screens more cricket than anything else.
And you do not need to own a satellite dish to watch it, as, by government decree, any successful bidder for the TV rights to Indian cricket must allow Doordarshan, the state channel, a feed.
This requirement has been imposed on Nimbus, the production group that recently paid $867 million for a four-year deal with the Indian Cricket Board, and it has served Indian cricket well because it is playing its part in spreading the sports gospel to areas where, thanks to the growth of vibrant cities and improved transport, aspiring cricketers can be put in touch with good facilities and coaches.
Just look at the current crop of India players. Mahendra Singh Dhoni comes from Ranchi in Bihar, a state that borders Nepal. Abid Nabi, a fast bowler who showed promise against England in a warm-up match last month, comes from Kashmir, a region which has not produced a Test player in more than 70 years.
Mohammad Kaif, RP Singh and the highly rated but as yet uncapped Suresh Raina all hail from Uttar Pradesh, until recently another northerly state that the Test selectors routinely ignored.
This season, for the first time, Uttar Pradesh won the Ranji Trophy, the national championship that in the old days Mumbai walked away with routinely.
Fast bowlers Irfan Pathan and Munaf Patel come from Gujarat, the region a few hundred kilometres north of Mumbai.
Patel is the son of a farmer who lives in a village called Ikhar. When he first travelled to the cricket academy in Vadodara, the nearest large centre, he arrived without a decent pair of shoes.
His story echoes that of Virender Sehwag, who grew up in Najafgarh, a satellite of Delhi, and used to commute to cricket practice in the city on the back of a scooter. Currently, Tendulkar and Jaffer are the only members of the India team from Mumbai.
But if small-town India is changing, so are the cities. Here satellite television has brought other sports to the attention of affluent youngsters from middle- and upper-class families.
In the old days they were the ones who would have provided most of the Test side; now they watch Formula One races and Premiership football from England and can afford to pay for private tennis and golf lessons.
"The affluent youths of today are as likely to be drawn to football, tennis, golf and F1 as cricket," said Sundeep Gulrajani, who runs the Mumbai office of Athletes, a British sports agency specialising in cricketers.
"The A-list schools, where the wealthiest families send their children, are not the ones that win the schools cricket championships. They are more interested in squash, boxing and football.
"The Brazilian soccer school has started coming to Bombay. Last season India had an F1 driver with Jordan in Narain Karthikeyan. Cricket is still the No.1 sport, but there has been a definite shift."
What India is not short of, though, is cricket talent. Millions of youngsters are still hooked on the game, and with a better-organised network to assess them, fewer gems are being allowed to go to waste. The talent is just coming from different areas of the country, different areas of society.
As one of the scorers on the Azad maidan commented: "We may have simple facilities, but we still have the passion to be one of the best sides in the world."
From The Times of London in The Australian
Revolution sweeping through India
By Simon Wilde
April 24, 2006
SPACE is tight in the cities of India. There is never enough of it to do what you want and the dozen or so young colts at the National Cricket Club of India are packed tight together as their coach supervises drills before their Friday afternoon net session.
Sandip, one of the smallest boys in the group, struggles to make himself heard above the cacophony around the Azad maidan as Mumbai's rush-hour traffic roars past.
"One! Two! Three! Four! Five!" he shouts as he and his teammates wield their bats through the sequence of manoeuvres that make up the back-foot defensive stroke.
Each of these boys dreams of playing for India but their hopes may be more credible than most because one of their recent predecessors at the club, Wasim Jaffer, who scored a century in the first Test against England in Nagpur this month, has successfully made the journey from this scruffy patch of red earth to the world's Test arenas.
They may also believe that, living in one of the greatest cricketing nurseries the world has seen, they hold an advantage over other parts of India. Jaffer is only the latest in a long line of batsmen nurtured in Mumbai, among them many of India's greatest, such as Vijay Merchant, Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar.
But India is changing. The economy has grown rapidly over the past 20 years and the boom is altering Indian society. The affluence has spread far beyond the main cities that historically wielded power in countless areas of society, cricket included: Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata, Chennai, and, to a lesser extent, Hyderabad and Bangalore.
In 1991, India had 23 cities with a population of one million or more, now there are 35. And these places are enjoying economic success. Reports suggest property prices in what are known as Tier II and III cities have jumped between 25 and 40 percent.
This has had a direct impact on the demographics of cricket and in particular the make-up of the Test team. A generation ago, the sport was dominated by the sons of lawyers, bank officers and bureaucrats - in other words the affluent sections of society based in metropolitan cities.
Research carried out by Richard Cashman, an Australian academic, in the late 1970s into the social backgrounds of India's 143 Test cricketers revealed that only seven had been born in villages.
The level of education was also strikingly high: 81 were graduates and 49 others held high school certificates. The system operated like a closed shop, with those of the right social background preferred to those from rural districts.
Kapil Dev, India's greatest all rounder, was born in Chandigarh and was viewed as almost a freak when he emerged in 1978 as he came from a region that had produced almost no cricketer of note. He went on to captain the side and win the 1983 World Cup.
But India is a smaller place these days. Only the most remote villages would be without televisions, and television in India screens more cricket than anything else.
And you do not need to own a satellite dish to watch it, as, by government decree, any successful bidder for the TV rights to Indian cricket must allow Doordarshan, the state channel, a feed.
This requirement has been imposed on Nimbus, the production group that recently paid $867 million for a four-year deal with the Indian Cricket Board, and it has served Indian cricket well because it is playing its part in spreading the sports gospel to areas where, thanks to the growth of vibrant cities and improved transport, aspiring cricketers can be put in touch with good facilities and coaches.
Just look at the current crop of India players. Mahendra Singh Dhoni comes from Ranchi in Bihar, a state that borders Nepal. Abid Nabi, a fast bowler who showed promise against England in a warm-up match last month, comes from Kashmir, a region which has not produced a Test player in more than 70 years.
Mohammad Kaif, RP Singh and the highly rated but as yet uncapped Suresh Raina all hail from Uttar Pradesh, until recently another northerly state that the Test selectors routinely ignored.
This season, for the first time, Uttar Pradesh won the Ranji Trophy, the national championship that in the old days Mumbai walked away with routinely.
Fast bowlers Irfan Pathan and Munaf Patel come from Gujarat, the region a few hundred kilometres north of Mumbai.
Patel is the son of a farmer who lives in a village called Ikhar. When he first travelled to the cricket academy in Vadodara, the nearest large centre, he arrived without a decent pair of shoes.
His story echoes that of Virender Sehwag, who grew up in Najafgarh, a satellite of Delhi, and used to commute to cricket practice in the city on the back of a scooter. Currently, Tendulkar and Jaffer are the only members of the India team from Mumbai.
But if small-town India is changing, so are the cities. Here satellite television has brought other sports to the attention of affluent youngsters from middle- and upper-class families.
In the old days they were the ones who would have provided most of the Test side; now they watch Formula One races and Premiership football from England and can afford to pay for private tennis and golf lessons.
"The affluent youths of today are as likely to be drawn to football, tennis, golf and F1 as cricket," said Sundeep Gulrajani, who runs the Mumbai office of Athletes, a British sports agency specialising in cricketers.
"The A-list schools, where the wealthiest families send their children, are not the ones that win the schools cricket championships. They are more interested in squash, boxing and football.
"The Brazilian soccer school has started coming to Bombay. Last season India had an F1 driver with Jordan in Narain Karthikeyan. Cricket is still the No.1 sport, but there has been a definite shift."
What India is not short of, though, is cricket talent. Millions of youngsters are still hooked on the game, and with a better-organised network to assess them, fewer gems are being allowed to go to waste. The talent is just coming from different areas of the country, different areas of society.
As one of the scorers on the Azad maidan commented: "We may have simple facilities, but we still have the passion to be one of the best sides in the world."