India shamed at the Gardens

India lost inside three days at the Wankhede. In as abject a fashion as you could imagine.

Yet, the people of Calcutta kept their faith. Over the past two days, 140,000 of them trooped in to the Eden Gardens, to cheer their team on, to put heart in them. To witness a fightback, a miracle, anything.

At shortly after three, they began to walk out of the stadium, turning their backs categorically on the team they had expended money, and energy, on. They walked out of the stadium in silence -- a silence pregnant with despair, disgust.

Let's not talk of whether this team has talent, ability, whatever. It is time to ask whether this team has a conscience. If it had, if money and fame hadn't insulated them to every vestige of human emotions, the Indian team would have walked out into the middle this evening, as soon as the last ball was bowled -- and apologised, abjectly, to the few spectators left for so completely abdicating their collective responsibility. For wearing the India crest, and not respecting it enough to do their damndest out on the field of play.

There are other questions that merit asking. Ever since this tour began -- in fact, just before it started, we have been reading columns by the Indian captain. The first, defending himself against Steve Waugh's allegation of interfering with pitch preparation. This morning, defending himself against Ian Chappell's accusation that he has behaved arrogantly towards his team mates.

How does Chappell know what happens in the dressing room, Ganguly demands. Dear Mr Ganguly, everybody knows. The media. The administrators, and their guests, sitting in the VIP stands. Because the players themselves talk.

But never mind that. The real question that puzzles me, is this -- we have for long lauded Ganguly on his courage to confront things head on. As exemplified by his various statements, including the ones aimed at Waugh and Chappell. But is this aggression restricted to newspaper columns? Would it be too much to ask for a modicum of that displayed on the field of play as well?

Where was the heat, the aggression, when setting a field with the score on 269/8 to Steve Waugh batting 20? At the start of every over, the field was pushed back, the intent obviously to let Waugh take a single and get the tailender (Tailender? Jason Gillespie scored more than any Indian batsman today!) on strike. What was the message being conveyed -- that neither the captain nor the team thought they were good enough to take out Steven Waugh, and therefore were content to gift him singles?

When Waugh got to his 100 this morning, 41 of those runs had come in singles, a good proportion of them gifted to him courtesy the deep set field. 41 singles -- more than 20 Indians scored in Mumbai, in two innings -- but then, in Mumbai and here, the Australians weren't letting up an inch, they weren't giving runs gratis. Why did we? Where, out there on the field, was all that aggression?

Fair enough, last evening, the game got out of hand. But the team had all evening, all night, and this morning, to recoup, rethink, rework their strategy. You expected them to come out to a plan. And what did you get? Just two slips, in the first hour of play. Players defending the boundaries. The first over bowled by Prasad, the second by Harbajan, the third by Raju...

Did we come onto the field, not even sure of which two bowlers would begin proceedings? And this, with a tailender batting at one end? Is this team confident only when countering newspaper columns, not opponents on the field of play?

True, when the Aussies were still short of 300, Prasad managed to get a leg cutter to clip Gillespie's bat -- a clear edge, that carried through to the keeper. Gillespie was batting on 11 at the time. And Umpire S K Bansal, whose abilities appear to deteriorate with every successive outing, failed to spot an edge so patently obvious, you didn't even need the sound, or the snickometer, on this one.

A bad decision, certainly. But was that reason enough for the team to behave like sulky schoolkids, to let their shoulders drop, to give up the fight and amble along, going through the motions and hoping that some force external to themselves would get them the wickets? I remember in school, one of the bowlers sulking and throwing a mini-tantrum when a clear decision was not given. Following that, he just lost it, bowled badly, and was thrashed. After the match, our coach of the time -- a certain S Venkatraghavan -- asked him what he thought he was doing. The player talked of the bad decision that he got. "Oh, I see," went Venkat, with his customary curtness, "you mean you could produce only one good ball, and when you didn't get a wicket with it, you gave up trying?"

It was a lesson we schoolboys learnt then. It is a lesson that the Indian team doesn't appear to have learnt yet.

And so they went through the motions, all morning. Waugh was repeatedly forced back by Zahir Khan, twice in one over, thrice in two, he edged on the onside fending off lifting deliveries off the second new ball -- but no fielder made an appearance up close. Raju was used for the one over in the morning, then one more just before lunch. Tendulkar, who had got enormous turn the previous evening, was given one more -- the one before lunch. Prasad, meanwhile, bowled on and on.

And those watching, on TV, in the ground, everywhere, gave up any attempt to understand proceedings.

Australia went in to lunch on 383/8. And India, having played itself into a wonderful position on the first evening, had given it all away, gift-wrapped at that.

Post lunch, Harbajan -- who had pegged away all morning -- finally got Gillespie's edge. More to the point, Bansal actually saw it, and gave the decision, ending a record 9th wicket partnership for Australia, and giving Gillespie his personal best in Tests. One of these days, someone needs to take time out to see how many tailend batsmen have their personal bests against India -- the answer could be startling.

But pause a moment, to consider Gillespie's innings. For 147 balls, he maintained his composure, continued his vigil, kept his flag flying and gave his captain admirable support, as the latter batted his side back into the game. When last did we see such application, such concentration and courage from an Indian bowler?

Steve Waugh, with McGrath at the other end, promptly changed gears. A massive swept six off Harbajan got him to 99, a pushed single off the next ball got him to his 25th Test century. Amazingly, 21 of these have come in the first innings -- consider the implications of these, and you will realise why, increasingly, cricket cognoscenti rate him the best batsman in contemporary cricket.

The Australian innings ended on 445 -- thanks to a combination of Steve Waugh's change of gears, and S K Bansal's unpredictability. Harbajan pitched one further up, Waugh launched into a huge sweep, missed, got it on the pad and looked bemused when the finger went up. And well he might -- Harbajan was bowling wide of the crease and even assuming the ball did not turn, it had to have missed leg stump on the angle.

In any event, Harbajan Singh finished with 7 for the innings. And barring that early morning spell by Ganguly, and Zahir's sustained hostility, the use of 'attack' to describe the bowling was embarassing.

The Indian innings -- or more appropriately, procession -- began. And the embarassment continued. When you talk to Sadagopan Ramesh, he is full of flip one-liners. Ask him about his new coach, and he will tell you how boring it is to listen to long lectures about the basics of cricket. Yet, when you watch him play, you wish he would yawn less, and listen more, when John Wright is talking -- maybe, if he had, he would not have stood with both feet glued together and pushed at a slanting delivery from Jason Gillespie, in the second over of the innings, to give Ponting the simplest of chances at second slip. It is time to ask the question: Does Ramesh care enough, does he have the character and temperament to play cricket at this level? Yes, he can score runs at will when he wants to -- but how often does he want to?

S S Das went back to the way he played in the first innings in Bombay, and immediately looked a lot more suited to interntional cricket. It took a beauty to get him out, and Glenn McGrath predictably produced it. The ball was banged in short, but McGrath must have given it the heck of a tweak as he let it go -- there was bounce, but also rapid movemen in off the seam, almost like an off break bowled at top speed. Das got behind the line, the movement beat him, took the inside edge and Adam Gilchrist, initially shaping to go to his right, spotted it, flung himself headlong, and snapped up a catch of amazing dexterity.

Then came the most technically interesting point of the match. Sachin Tendulkar took to Shane Warne, pulling and paddling fine. At the other end, McGrath took up the attack. Noticeably, throughout his spells -- this was his second -- he had stuck to his trademark style, landing it outside off, varying the width, occasionally seaming one, more often letting them go through straight. The minute he ran in to Tendulkar, that changed. The ball was held with the optimum grip for reverse swing, and it worked -- the ball swung a long way back from outside off, Tendulkar shaped to flick on the on, was beaten for line and movement, and got it on the pad bang in front of the wicket. It was apparent that McGrath had worked this out as the best way to take out Tendulkar -- in Australia, it was the line outside off, in Bombay Sachin showed that he had figured out the right ones to hit and the right ones to leave, so bingo, along comes another weapon. Sachin said after his Bombay innings that he had allowed McGrath to dominate him, that he was developing a mental block against the Aussie bowler, and that he would have to work on it. From what McGrath did to him today, it is going to be hard work -- and the ultimate test for Tendulkar's cricketing character.

At the other end, Rahul Dravid was yet again giving indications that he needs a break to rethink his game. While playing county cricket, his confrontation with Warne was the talk of the circuit -- but since then, he has allowed the leggie to dominate him mentally to such an extent that Warne probably figures it is harder bowling to Darryl Cullinan. One problem -- a major one -- is that Dravid is not playing the ball, but working to something he progammed himself for ahead of play. To wit, sticking his pad out at everything.

Today, he started with a couple of lovely drives on either side of the wicket, then lapsed into his shell. He then woke up momentarily, to first cover drive, then pull Warne, and back he went into his shell, padding up at everything. Warne is too savvy a bowler to let such an opportunity slip -- realising that Dravid was not going to play any attacking shot, he tossed one right up, a full toss to the right hander. Dravid shaped to defend, suddenly realised it was a ball that deserved the treatment, and changed his mind. Only to play all round it as he went into a huge backlift, and lose his leg and middle stump to the sort of ball kids at league level put away with ease. That made the 7th time Warne has taken Dravid out, and like Tendulkar, the second innings for Dravid will either show that he has some spirit left, or finish him off entirely.

Sourav Ganguly began well, driving fluently against both pace and the spin of Warne. Two drives off Warne, and one off Gillespie, were classics, played in the true Ganguly mould. The Australian captain promptly brought back Kasprowicz -- and the move worked. Australia's third seamer focussed on angling it past Ganguly, occasionally pushing them through straight, sometimes seaming it either way. Ganguly kept shaping to drive -- with a cordon of four slips and a gully waiting for the least mistake (while on that, it seems a pity that Waugh did not reciprocate Ganguly's gesture, push his fielders back, let the batsman take a single and attack at the other end). Sure enough, the mistake came, as Ganguly chased a wide one, hit it on the half volley, and Steve Waugh at gully flew to his left to pluck a superb catch, a scant inch off the turf.

Mongia didn't waste much time out there, pushing outside off at Kasprowicz to nick through to the keeper. And then we got another exhibition of just how thorough Waugh is -- as Shane Warne shaped to bowl the last ball of an over to Laxman, Waugh was seen having a quick chat. Sure enough, Warne speared the ball in quick, very wide of off and turning wider, giving Laxman no chance to touch it for a single. At the other end, Kasprowicz was taken off, the quicker Gillespie given the ball, and in that first over, he found Harbajan's edge for Ponting to hold at slip. A calculated, clinical dismissal.

Zahir Khan showed some signs of ease against Gillespie -- so back came McGrath -- and one quick, reverse-swinging yorker ended Khan's batting aspirations.

Laxman finally decided there was no point in hanging around, and played a couple of spanking shots square on the off, to end the day on 26 while Raju kept him company at the other end.

And if this performance is repeated, India have nothing to look forward to, here, but another hiding inside three days.

I wonder. Today, the crowd walked away -- the exodus beginning even while son of the soil Sourav Ganguly was actually walking out to bat. How many more such displays will it take, before the crowds refuse to come to the ground?

When that happens, will it finally alert the board to the fact that Indian cricket is going the West Indies way, only faster and with less hope of recovery?

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