Sport - An unpredictable yet decisive duo

S.Ram Mahesh
Colombo: The performances of Virender Sehwag and Harbhajan Singh, the draughtsmen of India’s victory at Galle, acquired an importance that extended beyond the context of the series.


It was only Sehwag’s third century in an Indian win — an astonishing statistic considering the rapidity of his scoring and the fact that each of his last 11 centuries has transcended 150.
The 29-year-old opener, who returned to the side in Australia earlier this year, was immense at Galle. He assumed the responsibility of strong-arming Muttiah Muralitharan and Ajantha Mendis, facing 181 balls from the pair in the course of both innings. He belted them for 150 runs, batting with an audacity not often seen at this level.
Sehwag’s greatest contribution to the game — apart from the material gains he has conferred on the Indian team — may well be his mainstreaming of what appears technically deficient batting. What Majid Khan, that fine Pakistani batsman, once attempted at the Glamorgan nets, batting with feet together, showing that his craft was about hand and eye, Sehwag has corroborated by succeeding spectacularly.
Even here, Sehwag defies generalisation: the stasis in footwork isn’t constant. A straight drive off Makhaya Ntini during the batsman’s debut at Bloemfontein, an off-drive at Adelaide against Brett Lee earlier this year, and a cover drive at Galle off Nuwan Kulasekara: the mechanics of each of these strokes — from the transfer of weight to the front foot to the counterbalancing sweep of the bat — was classical.
More remarkable than Sehwag’s home-spun methods is his mind. Few batsmen exist as intensely in the moment; fewer still exist as frequently in the hairline between success and failure. His perception of risk and reward is entirely his own — near impossible to rationalise by logic-limited minds.
Backing himself

“I always back myself," said Sehwag during the second Test in an attempt to elucidate his ability to continue playing strokes. "How can I stop that? You sometimes do think, ‘What if I play a shot and get out after four wickets have fallen?’, but if you don’t play your shots how will you make runs?"
Harbhajan, for a few years now, has appeared at the other end of the risk-reward spectrum. The profusion of shorter forms of the game — and his team’s demands in these versions — seemed to turn him into a bowler more intent on economy than creative attack. The fired-in yorker, designed to slip under the bat, replaced the weighted, whip-lashed off-break as his stock in trade.
Customising his craft

Although not a classical off-spinner in delivery or method, Harbhajan had customised the craft to suit his strengths: the snap in his action allowed him to access large quantities of over-spin, and consequently dip and sharp bounce. His greatest strength was his ability to find turn at a pace quicker than the classical off-spinner.
At his best, he was overwhelming. No floated offerings from him; his was a delivery tight in flight — not flat, mind — and hacked through the air.
But Harbhajan seemed to have misplaced these unique gifts. Worse, the 28-year-old established his reputation as Indian cricket’s wild child, copping among the stiffest bans imposed in cricket for misdemeanour after an intemperate moment in the Indian Premier League.
Harbhajan’s return to international cricket, in the Test series against Sri Lanka, was doubly significant. He wasn’t merely emerging from the dark cloud that had gathered matter from activities unrelated to cricket skill; he was also engaging in activities every top-class athlete pursues every so often: rejuvenation and validation.
Over the last three years, wickets were coming costlier and slower: the off-spinner in this period averaged nearly 10 runs and two overs more per wicket than he had between 1998 and 2005, when wickets came every 28 runs and 10.2 overs. His away record wasn’t something to parade either.
Heartening aspect

The most heartening aspect of Harbhajan’s 10-wicket haul at Galle, his first outside India, was his willingness to explore the option of attacking from around the wicket, not something he has always embraced in the past. From this angle, his doosra gained teeth — Harbhajan’s slant from over the wicket, arising from a tendency not to get close to the stumps, doesn’t always do the delivery justice. This angle also privileges the off-break that fails to land on the seam and sometimes skids on — as Thilan Samaraweera found out.
Harbhajan varied his pace adeptly, ripping it through to overcome the strip’s slowness, but not monotonously. He also slowed his action at delivery for extra hang-time, instanced in the wickets of Tillakaratne Dilshan and Prasanna Jayawardene in the first innings.
Harbhajan’s performance at Galle holds out hope that the off-spinner may yet grasp greatness, leading with distinction India’s spin attack when the great Anil Kumble isn’t around. And that more Sehwag centuries will fulfil the destinies they deserve.