Ganguly's Legacy

Sourav Ganguly’s imminent retirement marks the beginning of the end of a glorious era in Indian cricket. He will become the first of the ‘fab five’ to officially step-away from the limelight.

The five have been labeled ‘fab’ not just because of their records but because each has epitomized a virtuous quality that fans around the world have grown to respect and admire. In Tendulkar we have an unparalleled, wholesome genius; in Kumble we have grit and precision; in Dravid determination and sheer bloody-mindedness; in Laxman a silken Goliath-slaying finesse.

Ganguly’s fundamental trait has been his defiance. And of the various traits outlined above, defiance is certainly the one least commonly associated with the typical Indian cricketer – perhaps even the typical Indian male. Soft-spoken, introverted, gifted but individually-focused – this is how Indian cricketers have been perceived over much of history. But this image has taken a battering in recent times. And Sourav Ganguly has had a greater role to play in this transformation than any other.

After his debut tour of Australia in 1992, Ganguly (like so many other Indian cricketers) disappeared to the bench. Many said that he needed to change his aristocratic ways. But every human possesses some traits that are core, that are resistant to change. Ganguly returned in 1996. Unchanged. Instead, he would go on to change Indian cricket.

Having established himself in the team, Ganguly had the captaincy thrust upon him in 2000. It was a difficult time. The match-fixing exposés had shed a dark light on Indian cricket. The team’s performances on the ground were going from bad to worse. India had failed miserably in the 1999 World Cup. And they’d been thumped 3-0 in a test series Down Under. The team seemed to be going nowhere fast.

Instead, the next 3-4 years – under Ganguly’s astute, incisive and passionate leadership – would go on to prove a golden era in Indian cricket.

Australia arrived in 2001, gung-ho and red-hot favourites to capture their final frontier. They had nine fingers firmly clasped around the Border-Gavaskar trophy when Ganguly’s men engineered the most stunning turnaround in the history of test cricket, stopping Steve Waugh and company dead in their tracks. Everyone remembers the exploits of Harbhajan and Laxman. But Harbhajan would not have even been in the team had it not been for Ganguly’s insistence. Laxman would not have batted at three in the second innings at Kolkata – and thus turned the series on his head – if it wasn’t for the captain’s decision to promote him.

India was on a high. Next stop: Pakistan: India’s final frontier. Could they go one better than the Aussies? Yes, they could. Sourav’s boys managed to do what no Indian team had ever done before – to win a series in Pakistan. Not only did they win the tests, but they triumphed in the one-dayers as well. The team then started to make a little habit of winning tests overseas – in England, in Australia, in South Africa, in the West Indies.

One-day performances soared as well. There was a memorable triumph in the 2002 NatWest Series – again engineered by two young lads who would not have been in the team if not for Ganguly. The captain celebrated by taking-off his shirt and thumping his chest like Tarzan. This was Lords – the spiritual home of cricket. India then rode high in the 2003 World Cup, reaching the final and beating every other team in the world except Australia. It was a commendable performance.

There are so many wonderful stories about Ganguly: that he refused to carry the drinks because he felt it beneath him; that he kept the great Steve Waugh waiting at the toss, not once, but repeatedly. Are these tales true or are they myth? The real question is: who cares? The point is no one doubts that, when we think of Sourav, these things could be true. These are the stories we crave and revel in. Who cares if they’ve had a little masala added for effect? It’s the qualities these stories imply – impetuousness, disregard – which go to the heart of the image of the man that we secretly cherish.

Today, the process of change Ganguly began is in full force. Brash young lads such as Raina, Dhoni, Harbhajan, Rohit, Sehwag, Gambhir, Yuvraj and Sreesanth represent the new breed and are the mainstay of the team – raw, uncultured talent, groomed not in the colonial-era clubs of major metropolises, but in small towns and villages. Not only do they let bat and ball do the talking, but they aren’t afraid to open their mouths either. It is a team which wears its heart on its sleeve.

This will be Ganguly’s legacy. While his individual statistical record may be the least impressive of the fab five, his legacy – if measured in terms of bringing change to the underlying mores and mind-sets of a cricketing culture – will perhaps be the greatest. He has created a more defiant cricketing nation – one which barks back in the face of aggression, one wherein adherence to manners and awareness of traditions play a decreasingly prominent role. Whatever your view is on these aspects, one thing is for sure: he has at least created a nation which wins a bloody good deal more cricket matches.