Saturday, December 29, 2018

The Resurgence of Sri Lankan Cricket: Kusal Mendis and the New Dawn



Sri Lankan cricket has long been a tale of resilience, punctuated by the exploits of its talismanic players. Aravinda de Silva and Arjuna Ranatunga were the architects of numerous rescue acts in the 1990s, their stoic determination and brilliance often steering Sri Lanka away from the brink. They handed over the mantle to Mahela Jayawardene and Kumar Sangakkara, whose sublime artistry and indomitable spirit sustained the team for over a decade. In the transitional phase that followed, Angelo Mathews emerged as the torchbearer, but persistent fitness issues curtailed his ability to consistently shoulder the burden. Consequently, the responsibility of reviving Sri Lanka’s fortunes fell to a new generation of players.

Among this cohort, names like Dinesh Chandimal, Dimuth Karunaratne, Kusal Perera, Roshen Silva, and Kaushal Silva emerged, brimming with talent but often plagued by inconsistency. However, one name has begun to rise above the rest: Kusal Mendis. At just 23 years old, Mendis has showcased a temperament and resolve reminiscent of Sri Lanka’s cricketing greats, offering a glimmer of hope to a fanbase weary of mediocrity.

The Rise of Kusal Mendis

Mendis announced himself on the world stage with a scintillating 176 against a formidable Australian attack at Pallekele in 2016. It was an innings of rare brilliance, blending audacious strokeplay with an uncanny ability to dominate the opposition. The knock set the tone for a memorable series victory, but it also created an expectation that Mendis’s career trajectory would mirror the meteoric rise of legends before him. Yet, the years that followed were marked by inconsistency, as Mendis grappled with the nuances of Test cricket.

By 2018, under the guidance of coach Chandika Hathurusingha and batting mentor Thilan Samaraweera, Mendis began to evolve. He shed his impulsive reliance on counterattacks and embraced a more measured approach, understanding that Test cricket demands adaptability and patience. This transformation was evident during Sri Lanka’s tour of New Zealand, where Mendis delivered back-to-back heroic performances in Wellington and Christchurch, braving hostile conditions and relentless bowling to keep his team afloat.

A Newfound Maturity

The hallmark of Mendis’s resurgence has been his ability to adapt to the demands of different situations. Against New Zealand, he weathered the storm from Trent Boult and Tim Southee, enduring Neil Wagner’s relentless short-pitched barrage with poise. His partnership with Angelo Mathews in Wellington was a masterclass in survival, as the duo batted through an entire day to secure a draw. Mendis’s willingness to curb his natural attacking instincts for the team’s cause marked a significant shift in his approach.

Reflecting on his innings, Mendis acknowledged his errors with refreshing candour. “I don’t think that was a great ball to drive,” he admitted after his dismissal in Christchurch. “After looking at the replays, I realised I made the wrong decision. Hopefully, I can learn from it.” Such self-awareness is a trait shared by cricket’s finest, and it bodes well for Mendis’s future.

The Impact of Chandika Hathurusingha

Hathurusingha’s tenure as Sri Lanka’s coach has been fraught with challenges, but his influence on Mendis’s development is undeniable. Alongside Samaraweera, he has instilled in Mendis a deeper understanding of his game. The results have been encouraging: Mendis ended 2018 as one of the year’s leading run-scorers, amassing over 1,000 runs and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with luminaries like Virat Kohli.

The Road Ahead

Mendis’s declaration that he aims to score 1,000 runs every year is a testament to his ambition and hunger. Yet, the road ahead is fraught with challenges. For Sri Lanka to reclaim its place among cricket’s elite, Mendis must continue to evolve, translating his undeniable talent into consistent performances. He has shown glimpses of the temperament and technique required to emulate the likes of Mahela and Sangakkara, but the journey is far from over.

Sri Lanka’s cricketing fortunes have often hinged on the emergence of players capable of inspiring those around them. In Kusal Mendis, they may have found such a figure—a beacon of hope in a period of turmoil. His story is still being written, but if 2018 is any indication, Mendis has the potential to etch his name alongside the legends of Sri Lankan cricket.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

Thursday, December 20, 2018

A Test for the Ages: Kingsmead 1948’s Electrifying Finale



The atmosphere at Kingsmead, Durban, in 1948 was charged with an almost mythical intensity. As the fading light clashed with a persistent drizzle, Test cricket bore witness to one of its most thrilling climaxes. With three balls remaining, four results lingered in the balance: a win for either side, a draw, or a tie. The final ball—a leg-bye clinching victory—etched this encounter into the annals of cricketing folklore.

But the tale of that match transcends its dramatic ending. It was a microcosm of cricket’s unpredictability, a contest of skill and nerve on a pitch as mercurial as the sport itself.

England's Quest for Redemption

The year 1948 had not been kind to England. Don Bradman’s swansong series left the English battered and bereft of confidence. The scars from their Ashes humiliation lingered as they embarked on their first South African tour in a decade. Victory in this unfamiliar territory wasn’t just a matter of pride; it was a necessary salve for wounded spirits.

Their prospects weren’t entirely bleak. A year prior, England had bested South Africa on home soil, and though doubts loomed, they were still considered favourites to win the series. However, their mettle would be tested against a South African side determined to exploit every vulnerability.

A Stage Set for Battle

The first Test at Kingsmead was a four-day affair, punctuated by historical undertones. England’s captain, George Mann, debuted in this match, following in the footsteps of his father, Frank Mann, who had led England in South Africa 26 years prior. South Africa, too, fielded debutants, and their captain Dudley Nourse stepped in for the injured Alan Melville.

Nourse’s decision to bat first was calculated, influenced by forecasts of thunderstorms that promised to wreak havoc on the second day. The pitch, temperamental and unpredictable, reflected the tension that defined this contest.

Day 1: Swing and Strife

Alec Bedser and Clifford Gladwin capitalized on the humid conditions, delivering a masterclass in swing bowling. South Africa’s openers faltered, but a 51-run stand between debutant Bruce Mitchell and Nourse offered a glimmer of stability. Yet, England’s fielding brilliance—exemplified by Alan Watkins’ one-handed short-leg catch and Cyril Washbrook’s sharp run-out—ensured the pendulum swung firmly in their favour.

Bedser and Gladwin’s relentless discipline dismantled the South African lineup, with only Denis Begbie and OC Dawson showing resistance. South Africa were bowled out for a modest 161, with Bedser’s 4 for 39 and Gladwin’s 3 for 21 underscoring England’s dominance.

Day 2: Thunderstorms and Momentum

Rain curtailed play on the second day, but not England’s ascendancy. Len Hutton and Cyril Washbrook negotiated South Africa’s bowlers with aplomb, stitching together a 50-run stand in brisk fashion. Dudley Nourse turned to his spinners, Tufty Mann and Athol Rowan, who managed to stem the flow of runs. By stumps, England were well-placed at 144 for 2, with Hutton’s commanding 81 hinting at further trouble for the hosts.

Day 3: A Pitch Transformed

The third day descended into chaos, a captivating duel between bat and ball. Nineteen wickets fell for just 199 runs, a spectacle born from Mann’s shrewd decision to delay rolling the pitch. The dry crust that formed overnight crumbled under the heavy roller, creating a minefield for batsmen and a paradise for spinners.

England’s Denis Compton stood tall amid the carnage, crafting a gritty 72 to guide his team to 253. Mann’s left-arm guile yielded 6 for 59, while Rowan’s off-breaks added 4 for 108.

South Africa’s response was cautious yet tenuous. Dudley Nourse and Mitchell added vital runs, but England’s bowlers, particularly Doug Wright, found their rhythm. Wright, rediscovering his leg-spin artistry, claimed crucial wickets, leaving South Africa teetering at 90 for 4 by stumps.

The Final Act: A Day of Legend

The rest day only heightened the anticipation. When play resumed, Wade and Begbie’s 85-run stand for the fifth wicket seemed to tilt the scales. Yet England’s bowlers—notably Wright and Jenkins—rallied. South Africa’s innings folded at 219, setting England a target of 128 in 135 minutes.

The pursuit was fraught with peril. The pitch, unrelenting in its spite, and the failing light created a cauldron of tension. Washbrook survived a chance off the first ball but Tufty Mann soon claimed Hutton. George Mann promoted himself to steady the chase but fell to a spectacular slip catch by Mitchell off 19-year-old debutant Cuan McCarthy.

McCarthy’s fiery spell left England reeling at 70 for 6. Compton, ever the stoic, forged a crucial partnership with Jenkins, but McCarthy struck again, finishing with remarkable figures of 6 for 43. England’s hopes now rested on Bedser and Gladwin, the last pair.

The Climactic Finale

As the drizzle persisted and the light dimmed, Bedser and Gladwin braved McCarthy’s fiery deliveries. With scores tied, the drama culminated in the final ball of Len Tuckett’s over. Gladwin swung and missed, but the ball deflected off his thigh and rolled towards short leg. The duo sprinted desperately, and Tufty Mann’s throw narrowly missed the stumps as Bedser completed the run.

Victory by a leg-bye off the last ball—a singular moment in Test history—sent the crowd into raptures. Spectators stormed the pitch, hoisting players aloft in jubilant disbelief. In the pavilion, many English players confessed they had been unable to watch the nail-biting conclusion.

Legacy of a Thriller

This match at Kingsmead wasn’t merely a game; it was a testament to cricket’s capacity for theatre. England’s narrow victory rekindled their confidence, propelling them to a 2-0 series triumph. Yet, the true essence of this Test lay in its narrative—the tactical battles, individual heroics, and the relentless unpredictability of cricket.

Seventy-six years later, the Kingsmead Test of 1948 remains an emblem of why cricket, in its purest form, captivates hearts and minds. It is a story of resilience, ingenuity, and the ceaseless drama that unfolds when sport meets history.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Cricket in East Pakistan: A Journey from Marginalization to Passion


The year 1947 marked the end of British colonial rule in the Indian subcontinent, leading to the partition of India and the creation of two independent nations: India and Pakistan. This division gave birth to a unique political and cultural landscape, with Pakistan split into West and East regions. Amidst the political upheaval and socio-economic challenges, sports emerged as a unifying force, with cricket playing a pivotal role. Despite its colonial roots, cricket became a symbol of national pride and a tool for diplomacy, especially between India and Pakistan. However, the development of cricket in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) was starkly different from its progress in the West.

The Early Days: A Struggle for Recognition

In the years following the partition, cricket in West Pakistan began to flourish, fueled by enthusiastic players and administrators. In contrast, East Pakistan faced significant challenges. The departure of influential figures like the Maharaja of Natore and Sarada Ranjan Ray left a void in the cricketing landscape of East Bengal. Football and hockey quickly overshadowed cricket, particularly after Dhaka District Eleven’s historic victory over the Islington Corinthians football team in 1937. This triumph ignited a football revolution that dominated the region for decades.

Yet, cricket persisted in the pockets of East Pakistan. According to veteran journalist Muhammad Kamruzzaman, informal club leagues kept the spirit of cricket alive during the partition years. Matches were held at venues like Dhaka DSA Ground, Wari Victoria, and East End, albeit with limited infrastructure and resources. By 1948, organized cricket leagues resumed, laying the foundation for the sport’s future growth.

Institutional Support and Early Milestones

The formation of a cricket association in East Pakistan in 1951 marked a turning point. Spearheaded by figures like Feroz Khan Noon and Masood Salahuddin, this initiative sought to institutionalize cricket in the region. The visit of a Burmese cricket team in 1951 further bolstered local interest, even though the matches were casual and lacked professionalism. These events signalled the beginning of cricket’s gradual rise in East Pakistan.

The 1952-53 tour of East Pakistan by the West Pakistan cricket team, led by Abdul Hafeez Kardar, was another milestone. Matches held in Chattogram and Dhaka showcased local talent, with players like Dr. Mazharul Islam Damal and Qazi Mohsin earning recognition. Although these matches were largely symbolic, they planted the seeds for cricket’s growth in the region. Kardar himself acknowledged this in a 1954 column for Dawn, noting that the first seeds of cricket in East Pakistan had been sown.

The Rise of Infrastructure and Talent

The establishment of the East Pakistan Sports Federation (EPSF) further propelled cricket’s development. Participation in the Pakistan National League exposed local players to high-level competition, offering invaluable experience despite the dominance of teams from Karachi and Lahore. The construction of a cricket stadium in Dhaka in 1955, now known as the Bangabandhu International Stadium, ushered in a new era. Hosting its first Test match between Pakistan and India on January 1, 1955, the stadium became a symbol of East Pakistan’s cricketing aspirations.

During this period, cricket gained popularity among the youth, with schools and colleges embracing the sport. Grounds like Dhaka DSA, Wari Club, and Eidgah became hubs of cricketing activity, nurturing talents like Abdul Halim Chowdhury Jewel and Raquibul Hasan. These players, characterized by their fearless approach and technical proficiency, began to challenge the dominance of West Pakistani cricketers.

Persistent Discrimination and the Struggle for Equality

Despite these advancements, East Pakistani cricketers faced systemic discrimination. The cricketing hierarchy, dominated by West Pakistan, often overlooked talent from the East. Niaz Ahmed, a non-Bengali cricketer, was the only player from East Pakistan to represent the national team before 1971, highlighting the exclusionary practices of the time. Even when players from the East demonstrated their capabilities, as in the 1952-53 match against West Pakistan, they were frequently sidelined in favour of their Western counterparts.

This marginalization extended to international tours. For instance, Sohrab Khan and Amirullah Munni, two promising players from East Pakistan, were included in the Pakistan Eaglets’ tour to England but were fielded in only two matches out of twenty. Such instances underscored the systemic biases that hindered the growth of cricket in East Pakistan.

The Liberation War and the Birth of Bangladesh Cricket

The liberation war of 1971 marked a turning point in the history of East Pakistan. The sacrifices of individuals like Abdul Halim Chowdhury Jewel, who fought and died for Bangladesh’s independence, underscored the deep connection between cricket and national identity. Raquibul Hasan, another prominent cricketer, survived the war and became instrumental in rebuilding cricket in the newly independent Bangladesh.

Post-Independence: Rekindling the Cricketing Spirit

Following independence, cricket struggled to reclaim its preeminence in Bangladesh. Football dominated the sports landscape throughout the 1970s and 1980s. However, efforts to revive cricket persisted. By the mid-1990s, cricket began to eclipse football, fueled by grassroots initiatives and international exposure. The passion for cricket, deeply rooted in Bengal’s history, found new expression in the hearts of Bangladeshis.

Today, Bangladesh is a nation synonymous with cricket. The sport has transcended its colonial origins to become a symbol of national pride and unity. From the humble beginnings of club leagues in the 1940s to hosting international matches in state-of-the-art stadiums, Bangladesh’s cricketing journey is a testament to resilience and passion. The legacy of pioneers like Jewel, Raquibul, and countless others continues to inspire a cricket-mad nation.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

The crossroads of Cricket and Politics in Bangladesh

In the rich tapestry of Bangladesh cricket, few names resonate as profoundly as Mashrafe Bin Mortaza and Shakib Al Hasan. Both have achieved legendary status on the field, becoming symbols of hope and resilience for millions of fans. However, their involvement in politics has sparked intense debate and raised concerns about the ramifications for the sport and society at large. While their intentions may be rooted in a desire to contribute to their country or personal gains, the negative impact of their political affiliations cannot be overlooked.

The Enmeshment of Sport and Politics

In many countries, the worlds of sport and politics often intertwine, and Bangladesh is no exception. The country's political landscape has long been characterized by turmoil, polarization, and a power struggle. When prominent figures from the cricketing fraternity, such as Mashrafe and Shakib, enter this arena – with Mashrafe already competing for the General Election and Shakin on the line for the next one five years later, it brings about significant changes—not just in the realm of governance but also in the perception of cricket as a sport.

Mashrafe, who transitioned from an illustrious cricketing career to a political one, was elected as a Member of Parliament in 2018. His presence in politics was initially welcomed by fans who saw it as an opportunity for positive change, given his popularity and leadership skills. However, as time has passed, the murky waters of political loyalty and partisanship have begun to overshadow his contributions to the sport. Instead of remaining a unifying figure, his political affiliation has risked alienating segments of the cricketing community, dividing fans along partisan lines.

Shakib, on the other hand, has taken a more nuanced approach - while he has not officially entered politics, his public endorsements of political figures and parties have placed him in the spotlight. His involvement raises questions about the role of athletes as political influencers and the potential consequences of their actions. The fine line between advocacy and endorsement can blur, leading to a situation where fans see their idols not just as sports heroes but as political pawns.

Erosion of Focus on the Sport

The foray of these cricketers into politics has had a tangible impact on the sport itself. When athletes become embroiled in political affairs, the focus shifts from their performance on the field to their political stances. This diversion can distract players from their training and preparation, potentially affecting team dynamics and performance.

Moreover, the cricketing fraternity can become polarized as fans align themselves with or against the political views of their favourite players. The sport, which once served as a unifying force, risks becoming a battleground for political ideologies. The intense scrutiny of their political activities may lead to increased pressure on these athletes, detracting from their primary role as ambassadors of the game.

The Risk of Losing Neutrality

Cricket has often been heralded as a unifying force in Bangladesh, transcending social, economic, and political divides. The involvement of high-profile cricketers in politics threatens this neutrality, shifting the narrative from sporting achievements to political allegiances. When players like Mashrafe and Shakib become representatives of specific political parties or ideologies, they inadvertently alienate fans who may hold opposing views.

This shift can also discourage young talents from pursuing cricket if they perceive the sport as becoming enmeshed in the political chaos that has often plagued Bangladesh. The essence of cricket—fostering camaraderie, sportsmanship, and unity—risks being overshadowed by divisive political narratives.

A Call for Reflection

As Mashrafe Bin Mortaza and Shakib Al Hasan continue their journeys, both them and their fans must reflect on the implications of their political involvement. While their contributions to society are commendable, the intersection of cricket and politics should be approached with caution.

The future of Bangladesh cricket hinges on maintaining its status as a unifying force. While athletes have the power to effect change, they must also recognize their responsibility as role models. Striking a balance between advocacy for social issues and remaining committed to the purity of sport is crucial.

In conclusion, while Mashrafe and Shakib’s intentions may stem from a genuine desire to contribute to their nation, their involvement in politics poses significant risks to the sanctity of Bangladesh cricket. The journey ahead requires thoughtful deliberation, emphasizing the need for these sporting icons to tread carefully as they navigate the complex interplay of sport and politics. By doing so, they can ensure that their legacy in cricket remains untarnished and continues to inspire future generations.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Monday, November 19, 2018

The Anatomy of a Collapse: Pakistan’s Four-Run Defeat to New Zealand

In the storied history of Pakistan cricket, where brilliance and calamity often walk hand in hand, few collapses have been as gut-wrenching or inexplicable as the four-run defeat to New Zealand in the first Test of their 2018 series. It was a game that seemed all but won by lunchtime on the fourth day, only to unravel in a manner that epitomized the mercurial nature of Pakistan cricket. 

The implosion, marked by a series of poor decisions, shattered nerves, and New Zealand’s indefatigable spirit, now stands as a cautionary tale in Pakistan’s cricketing annals—a match where triumph turned into tragedy in a single session. 

The Turning Point: A Game of Psychological Poker 

At 130 for 3, with Azhar Ali and Asad Shafiq cruising, Pakistan were firmly in control. The wicket of Shafiq off the last ball before lunch, though a setback, appeared inconsequential. Yet, as the players returned to the field, the dynamics shifted dramatically. 

New Zealand, playing their first Test in seven months, exhibited a stubborn refusal to concede. They turned to psychological warfare, forcing Pakistan to confront the weight of expectation and the fear of failure. What followed was less a cricket match and more a game of poker, where New Zealand’s unwavering belief compelled Pakistan to doubt their own certainties. 

Babar Azam’s ill-advised run-out was the first crack in Pakistan’s resolve. A misjudged single that his partner Azhar Ali had no intention of taking symbolized the creeping panic. Sarfraz Ahmed, struggling for form and confidence, fell to an injudicious sweep, a shot that once defined his batting but now seemed an act of desperation. 

The Lower-Order Meltdown 

As Pakistan’s middle order crumbled, the tailenders followed suit in a frenzy of ill-conceived aggression. Bilal Asif’s wild heave off Ajaz Patel was emblematic of the chaos, a shot that handed New Zealand the seventh wicket and firmly shifted the momentum. Hasan Ali, tasked with steadying the chase, instead chose to channel a T20 mindset, skying Patel to deep midwicket with 12 runs still needed. 

Even Azhar Ali, Pakistan’s most composed batsman on the day, was not blameless. Only when left with number eleven Mohammad Abbas did he fully embrace the responsibility of farming the strike. By then, the damage was irreparable. Patel, who had been entrusted by Kane Williamson to deliver in the clutch moments, trapped Azhar in front to seal the narrowest Test victory in New Zealand’s history. 

New Zealand’s Heroics: Patel’s Moment of Glory 

While Pakistan’s collapse will dominate the narrative, credit must be given to New Zealand’s resilience and Ajaz Patel’s brilliance. Making his Test debut, Patel bowled with guile and precision, using flight, drift, and sharp turn to mesmerize Pakistan’s batsmen. His five-wicket haul was a masterclass in spin bowling under pressure, and his calm demeanour belied the magnitude of the occasion. 

Williamson’s decision to back Patel over the experienced Ish Sodhi proved inspired. Patel’s ability to adapt and outthink the opposition was instrumental in New Zealand’s improbable comeback, a testament to the team’s collective spirit and tactical acumen. 

Lessons Unlearned: Pakistan’s Fourth-Innings Woes 

This was not the first time Pakistan had faltered in a low fourth-innings chase. In 2017, they were bundled out for 81 against the West Indies in Barbados, chasing 187. Later that year, at the same Dubai venue, Sri Lanka bowled them out for 114 to snatch victory. These collapses reveal a troubling pattern—a mental fragility that surfaces under pressure, compounded by a lack of strategic clarity. 

In this instance, Pakistan’s batsmen seemed torn between aggression and caution, resulting in a muddled approach. Strategies were abandoned, and composure gave way to hysteria. The inability to adapt to the situation, combined with New Zealand’s unyielding resolve, sealed their fate. 

The Post-Mortem 

For Pakistan, this defeat will sting for years to come. The inquisition will be harsh, and blame will be apportioned liberally. Hasan Ali’s reckless shot, Sarfraz Ahmed’s poor form, and the lower order’s lack of discipline will all come under scrutiny. Yet, the deeper issue lies in the team’s collective mindset—a failure to handle pressure and close out games that should have been won comfortably. 

New Zealand, on the other hand, will cherish this victory as a testament to their grit and unity. For Patel, it was a dream debut, and for Williamson, a vindication of his leadership. 

A Tale of Two Teams 

This match was more than just a cricketing contest; it was a psychological battle that highlighted the contrasting character of the two sides. Pakistan, burdened by expectations and haunted by past failures, unravelled under pressure. New Zealand, with nothing to lose, played with freedom and belief, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. 

In the end, this game will be remembered as much for Pakistan’s implosion as for New Zealand’s indomitable spirit. For Pakistan, it is a painful reminder of the fine line between glory and despair, a line they crossed most agonisingly.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Mushfiqur Rahim’s Milestone Amidst Bangladesh’s Test Cricket Conundrum



The second day of the second Test between Bangladesh and Zimbabwe at Mirpur belonged to Mushfiqur Rahim—a diminutive yet dynamic figure whose bat spoke volumes in an arena where Bangladesh often struggles to assert dominance. Mushfiqur’s masterful double hundred, a feat etched into the annals of cricket history, underscored his ability to rise above mediocrity. Yet, the broader narrative of Bangladesh’s Test cricket—riddled with tactical inertia and individual priorities—remains a story of missed opportunities and unfulfilled potential. 

Mushfiqur’s Record-Breaking Feat 

Patient and composed, Mushfiqur navigated the Zimbabwean attack with precision, becoming the first wicketkeeper in Test history to notch two double centuries. His marathon innings of 421 balls, spanning 589 minutes, broke records and solidified his place in an elite club of batsmen—including Sir Don Bradman, George Headley, and Brian Lara—who have twice rewritten their country’s highest individual Test scores. 

While Mushfiqur’s innings offered a masterclass in endurance and technique, it also highlighted a recurring theme in subcontinental cricket: the prioritization of personal milestones over team strategy. With Bangladesh in a commanding position, a more aggressive approach could have hastened a declaration, granting the bowlers more time to dismantle Zimbabwe. 

The Need for Tactical Clarity 

Bangladesh’s primary objective should have been to maximize their chances of forcing a result. The pitch, showing signs of uneven bounce, provided an opportunity to unsettle Zimbabwe early. However, the extended wait for Mushfiqur’s double century—and Mehidy Hasan’s half-century—meant precious time was squandered. Captain Mahmudullah Riyad’s eventual declaration left the bowlers just 18 overs to test the Zimbabwean batsmen, yielding only one wicket. 

This cautious approach, while understandable in certain contexts, seemed misaligned with the team’s overarching goal of securing a decisive victory. If Zimbabwe’s batsmen dig in during subsequent sessions, the slow passages of play on Day 2 might come back to haunt Bangladesh. 

Mahmudullah’s Struggles and Leadership Prospects 

For Mahmudullah Riyad, this Test series represents more than just another cricketing assignment. With Shakib Al Hasan unavailable and seemingly reluctant to commit to Test cricket, Mahmudullah has emerged as a candidate for long-term leadership in the format. Yet, his own form with the bat raises serious concerns. 

In 2018, Mahmudullah’s Test performances have been underwhelming. Across six matches, he has amassed just 169 runs at an average of 21.13, with a solitary unbeaten 83 on a batting-friendly Chattogram pitch against Sri Lanka. His recent scores—0, 4, 0, 16, 36, 28, 17, 6, 0, and 15—paint a grim picture of a batsman grappling with technical deficiencies and a lack of confidence. 

Mahmudullah’s vulnerabilities against both pace and spin have become glaringly apparent. Against pacers, he struggles to move his feet effectively and often pokes at deliveries outside off-stump, a recurring pattern in his dismissals. Against spinners, his approach has been erratic—alternating between reckless sweeps and poorly judged advances down the track. His dismissal on Day 2, caught behind off a delivery moving away from off-stump, epitomized a batsman out of rhythm and ideas. 

A Call for Redemption 

Despite his lean patch, Mahmudullah’s reputation as a hardworking cricketer offers hope. To justify his role as a linchpin in the batting order and a prospective captain, he must confront his technical shortcomings with urgency and determination. Refining his footwork, rediscovering the art of leaving deliveries outside off-stump, and adopting a measured approach against spin will be crucial to his resurgence. 

More importantly, Mahmudullah needs to lead by example. A captain’s form often sets the tone for the team, and his ability to rise above adversity could inspire his teammates to follow suit. 

Conclusion 

Mushfiqur Rahim’s double century was a moment of individual brilliance that illuminated an otherwise complex picture of Bangladesh’s Test cricket. While the innings showcased the potential of Bangladeshi batsmen to excel in the longest format, it also highlighted the need for greater tactical acumen and team-oriented thinking. 

As for Mahmudullah, the road ahead demands introspection and transformation. His struggles reflect not just his personal challenges but also the broader inconsistencies that plague Bangladesh’s Test cricket. To elevate the team’s standing in the format, Mahmudullah must rise to the occasion—not just as a batsman, but as a leader who embodies resilience and vision. 

In the end, Test cricket remains the ultimate measure of a team’s mettle. For Bangladesh, the path to redemption lies in embracing this challenge with renewed vigour, discipline, and a collective commitment to excellence.

Thank You 
Faisal Caesar 

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Bangladesh Cricket: A Test of Intent and Application



In cricket, the ultimate benchmark of greatness is often rooted in the Test format. Teams and players alike carve their legacies on the hallowed turf of five-day matches, where resilience, skill, and strategy collide. Yet, for Bangladesh—a nation that once celebrated the achievement of Test status in 2000 as a transformative milestone—the narrative of Test cricket is one of consistent underachievement, punctuated by moments that suggest a lack of collective willpower to embrace the format fully. 

Recent performances paint a grim picture. Bangladesh's scores in their last eight Test innings—110, 123, 43, 144, 149, 168, 143, and 169—resemble a parody of competitive cricket. Not a single innings crossed the 200-run threshold. Moreover, their last Test series victory came in 2014, against Zimbabwe, marking a barren run of 26 series without triumph. Such statistics, while stark, are symptomatic of deeper issues that go beyond mere numbers. 

The Sylhet Surrender 

The first Test in Sylhet against Zimbabwe typified Bangladesh's woes. On a Day 4 surface that retained its integrity—devoid of the venom often associated with deteriorating wickets—the Bangladeshi batsmen crumbled. A disciplined bowling display by Zimbabwe's Kyle Jarvis and the probing spin of Sikandar Raza exposed the Tigers' technical frailties and mental fragility. After a tentative opening stand, the team succumbed to 111/5 by lunch and folded entirely within an hour of the post-lunch session. 

This wasn't an isolated incident; it was a reiteration of a recurring theme. The top-order batsmen, far from showcasing grit or determination, seemed bereft of application. Their approach begged an uncomfortable question: do the players themselves value the prestige and challenge of Test cricket? 

A Tale of Two Formats 

Bangladesh’s ascent in the limited-overs formats, especially ODIs, has been commendable. They've grown into a formidable force, capable of challenging the best teams. However, this success in the shorter formats starkly contrasts with their Test performances. When donning the whites, the same players appear ill-equipped—both mentally and technically—to endure the rigours of Test cricket. 

The lack of interest is palpable. Even marquee players like Shakib Al Hasan and Mustafizur Rahman have expressed reluctance to commit to the format. This attitude undermines not just the team's immediate prospects but also the legacy and future of Bangladeshi cricket. 

Test Status: A Responsibility, Not a Right 

The Test status conferred upon Bangladesh in 2000 was more than a mere ceremonial upgrade. It was a gateway to opportunities, fostering cricket's growth beyond its traditional strongholds of Dhaka, Sylhet, and Chittagong. The exposure to elite cricketing nations has been instrumental in shaping Bangladesh's cricketing culture. However, this privilege comes with an expectation of respect and effort—qualities glaringly absent in their recent displays. 

Performance in Test cricket carries an intrinsic weight. Legends of the game—Sachin Tendulkar's artistry at Sydney, Clive Lloyd's dominant West Indies, or Steve Waugh’s indefatigable Australians—cemented their status in cricket’s pantheon through their exploits in the longest format. Bangladesh, too, must recognize that true progress and respect on the global stage require mastering Test cricket. 

The Way Forward 

The time for introspection is now. Bangladesh must confront the hard questions: Are the players genuinely invested in Test cricket? If not, it might be more dignified to take a hiatus rather than continue to tarnish the format with disinterest and lacklustre performances. 

If, however, there is a desire to compete and improve, the roadmap is clear: 

1. Skill Development: The technical deficiencies of the batsmen must be addressed with specialized coaching and intensive practice against quality bowling. 

2. Mental Conditioning: Test cricket demands patience and fortitude. Players need to develop the mental toughness to endure and excel. 

3. Team Culture: A cultural shift is imperative. The dressing room must prioritize and celebrate Test cricket as the ultimate challenge, fostering a sense of pride in the format. 

4. Leadership and Accountability: The management and leadership must set clear expectations and hold players accountable for their performances in Test matches. 

Conclusion 

Bangladesh’s Test status is not merely a trophy to be showcased—it is a platform to prove their mettle on cricket’s grandest stage. For a nation passionate about cricket, it is disheartening to witness such apathy toward a format that demands the very best of its participants. The Tigers must decide: will they rise to the challenge of Test cricket, or will they let this opportunity slip through their fingers? 

The choice they make will define not just their cricketing identity but their legacy in the annals of the sport.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Fazle Mahmud: A Case of Hype, Hope, and Harsh Realities



 In the realm of cricket, debuts often serve as a window into the potential of a player—a stage where dreams collide with reality. For Fazle Mahmud, the much-hyped debut against Zimbabwe in October 2018 was anything but a dream. Instead, it was a sobering reminder of the gap between expectations and execution. 

The Debut That Never Took Off 

First ODI, Mirpur, October 21, 2018: Tendai Chatara bowled a delivery pitched on middle and leg, lifting slightly off the surface. All Fazle Mahmud, the debutant, needed to do was let his wrists drop and leave it alone. Instead, he fended awkwardly, gifting a catch and walking back for a duck. 

Second ODI, Chattogram, October 24, 2018: Sikandar Raza floated a flighted delivery that lured Fazle out of his crease. Misjudging the trajectory, he was stumped—a dismissal that bordered on the careless. Bangladesh went from 148 for 1 to 152 for 2, but thankfully, the experienced Mushfiqur Rahim anchored the innings to avert a collapse. 

The Hype Machine 

Before the series, the buzz surrounding Fazle Mahmud was deafening. The media, known for its tendency to inflate expectations, painted the Barishal-born cricketer as a potential solution to Bangladesh’s number three conundrum. Comparisons to legends like Brian Lara and Kumar Sangakkara—though premature and unwarranted—added to the frenzy. 

Selector Habibul Bashar further fueled the anticipation by calling Fazle a “complete package.” Bashar, a former captain and one of Bangladesh’s finest batsmen, vouched for Fazle’s ability to adapt his game to the team’s needs, highlighting his performances in the Ireland tour as evidence. 

“He rotates the strike but still has the big shots. He is now a complete batsman... also a good fielder and bowls spin,” Bashar remarked. 

However, these words proved to be a double-edged sword. The weight of such praise created an aura of inevitability around Fazle’s success—a narrative that collapsed under the weight of his performances. 

The Reality Check 

A closer examination of Fazle’s domestic record raises questions about the legitimacy of the hype. 

- First-Class Cricket: An average of 33.16 with the bat and 47.35 with the ball over 68 matches. 

-  List A Cricket: A batting average of 30.13 and a bowling average of 38.81 with a strike rate of 71.49. 

- Ireland Tour (Bangladesh A): In five ODIs, Fazle scored 136 runs at an average of 45.33 and took three wickets at 34.50. 

While his strike rate of 115 in Ireland may have caught the selectors’ attention, such numbers are not extraordinary when compared to contemporaries like Mominul Haque, Mohammad Mithun, or Zakir Hasan. 

The Technical and Temperamental Gaps 

Fazle’s struggles in his two ODIs revealed glaring technical and mental shortcomings. 

- Technical Flaws: 

   - His bat face often points towards third man and gully, creating an angled trajectory that exposes the edge. 

   - A lack of side-on alignment compromises his defensive technique. 

   - Minimal foot movement leaves him vulnerable to both pace and spin, as evidenced by his dismissals. 

- Temperamental Issues: 

   Fazle appeared overwhelmed by the occasion, his body language reflecting uncertainty and a lack of composure. A batsman touted as a “complete package” should exude confidence, not crumble under pressure. 

The Broader Implications 

Fazle Mahmud’s case underscores deeper issues within Bangladesh’s cricketing ecosystem. The domestic structure often fails to prepare players for the rigours of international cricket, where technical finesse and mental fortitude are paramount. Runs scored in domestic competitions, often against subpar bowling attacks, can be misleading indicators of a player’s readiness for the global stage. 

Moreover, the culture of overhyping players does more harm than good. It sets unrealistic expectations, obscures deficiencies, and ultimately leads to disappointment. Fazle’s story is a cautionary tale for selectors, media, and fans alike—highlighting the dangers of glorifying untested talent without substantial evidence. 

Lessons to Learn 

1. Refine Domestic Standards: Strengthen the quality of domestic competitions to better simulate international challenges. 

2. Focus on Technique and Temperament: Prioritize these aspects over fleeting statistics like strike rates or individual innings. 

3. Curb the Hype: Allow players to develop organically without the burden of exaggerated expectations. 

Conclusion 

Fazle Mahmud’s ODI outings were not just personal failures but also reflections of systemic shortcomings. While his passion for cricket and perseverance are commendable, they alone cannot bridge the gap between domestic and international cricket. 

In the end, Fazle’s brief stint in ODIs serves as a reminder that hype, no matter how fervent, cannot substitute for preparation, technique, and temperament. Bangladesh cricket must learn from such episodes to ensure a more measured and merit-based approach to player development and selection
 
Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Saturday, October 20, 2018

Pakistan Cricket: From Misbah’s Stability to Sarfaraz’s Aggression


The year 2010 was a nadir for Pakistan cricket, mired in scandal and despair. The spot-fixing debacle not only tarnished the nation’s cricketing reputation but also robbed the team of its captain and two extraordinary pace bowlers. Coupled with a devastating flood that wreaked havoc across the country, the sport seemed to mirror the chaos of the nation. 

Amid this turmoil, Ijaz Butt, then-chairman of the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB), made a bold and unconventional decision: appointing Misbah-ul-Haq, a player whose career seemed long over, as the Test captain. This gamble, though controversial, turned out to be a masterstroke. 

Misbah-ul-Haq: The Stabilizer 

Misbah brought much-needed calm and stability to a fractured team. Under his leadership, Pakistan cricket rediscovered its footing. With a mediocre squad, Misbah’s team consistently punched above its weight, both at home and abroad. The man once written off as irrelevant became the linchpin of Pakistan cricket, crafting a legacy that rivalled even the iconic Imran Khan. 

Statistically, Misbah’s captaincy record surpasses that of Khan, but numbers tell only part of the story. Despite his undeniable success, Misbah faced relentless criticism for his defensive approach. This conservatism, while instrumental in steadying the team during a volatile period, clashed with the ethos of Pakistani cricket—a tradition steeped in aggression and flair. 

The Legacy of Aggression 

Pakistan’s cricketing identity has long been defined by an aggressive, fearless brand of play. This ethos traces back to Abdul Hafeez Kardar, the nation’s first Test captain, and was elevated by the likes of Imran Khan and Wasim Akram in the 1980s and 1990s. For a fleeting moment, Younis Khan seemed poised to carry this torch, but the PCB opted for Misbah, valuing stability over aggression. 

Misbah’s tenure, which spanned seven years, was marked by success but also by a lack of fervent adoration. Pakistan’s cricketing psyche yearns for a captain who embodies audacity—a leader who can inspire through boldness and unleash the team’s innate aggression. 

Sarfaraz Ahmed: A New Hope 

Enter Sarfaraz Ahmed, a captain who initially appeared to be the answer to Pakistan’s craving for an aggressive leader. His early tenure, characterized by spirited displays and a Champions Trophy triumph in 2017, suggested he could balance aggression with tactical acumen. 

However, cracks began to show during the Asia Cup and the first Test against Australia in 2018. Sarfaraz’s defensive tactics evoked memories of the Misbah era, frustrating fans who had hoped for a more assertive approach. The criticism reached a crescendo after a lacklustre draw in Dubai, where his leadership seemed hesitant and uninspired. 

The Turning Point 

Great leaders are often defined by how they respond to adversity, and Sarfaraz’s redemption came under the most trying circumstances. At 57 for 5 in the second Test in Abu Dhabi, Pakistan was staring down the barrel. The team needed its captain to rise to the occasion, and Sarfaraz delivered a counterattacking innings that, alongside Fakhar Zaman’s composure, turned the tide. 

In the field, Sarfaraz abandoned the defensive mindset that had plagued him. He adopted aggressive field placements, utilized his strike bowlers incisively, and employed mental intimidation against an Australian side renowned for its mastery of this tactic. His animated presence—vocal, energetic, and unyielding—galvanized the team. Unlike his outbursts during the Asia Cup, Sarfaraz displayed controlled aggression, channelling his emotions into effective leadership. 

A Lesson in Resilience 

Reflecting on the victory, Sarfaraz remarked, “You never, ever give up. To bounce back from 57 for 5, there can't be many teams that can come back from losing five in the first session and then to win in four days by such a big margin. That is what I've learnt, to keep fighting.”

This fighting spirit, reminiscent of legends like Mushtaq Mohammad, Imran Khan, and Javed Miandad, resonated deeply with fans. Pakistan cricket thrives on leaders who embody the lion-hearted ethos of its past, and in Abu Dhabi, Sarfaraz rediscovered that essence. 

The Path Forward 

Sarfraz Ahmed’s aggressive resurgence in Abu Dhabi reaffirmed Pakistan’s dominance in the Middle East—a region that has been a fortress for the team. More importantly, it rekindled hope among fans who yearn for a captain capable of inspiring through boldness and bravery. 

While tactical refinement remains an area for improvement, Sarfaraz’s ability to adapt and lead under pressure suggests he has the potential to etch his name alongside Pakistan’s great captains. In embracing aggression, he not only honoured the nation’s cricketing heritage but also charted a path for a brighter, more dynamic future. 

For Pakistan cricket, the lesson is clear: stability and aggression are not mutually exclusive. With the right balance, the team can continue to build on its storied legacy, led by captains who dare to dream and fight like lions.  

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Sarada Ranjan Ray: The Pioneer of Cricket in Bengal and the Grace of Bengal


The Bengali middle class, known as the Bhadrolok, has long been a dynamic force in shaping the social and political landscape of the subcontinent. Since the days of the British Raj, this class has been at the forefront of various social movements, from political protests to the cultivation of a distinct sporting culture. Whether advocating for noble causes, engaging in political struggles, or fostering new forms of recreation, the Bhadrolok has consistently played a pivotal role in the evolution of modern Bengal. 

The arrival of the British in India, initially motivated by trade, eventually transformed into a colonial dominance that reshaped the subcontinent. During their leisure time, British soldiers played cricket, a game that would come to have profound implications for Indian society. As the British introduced the game to India, it spread across the subcontinent, gradually becoming embedded in the cultural fabric of various regions. By the eighteenth century, cricket had become an integral part of India’s sporting culture, with regions such as Patiala, Rajputana, Central India, Kashmir, and Bengal all investing time and resources into the game. 

For some, cricket was a tool to gain recognition and favour from the British rulers, a means of assimilation into the colonial system. However, for the Bhadrolok and the Maharajas of Bengal, cricket became more than just a game—it was a platform for resistance. In their eyes, mastering the sport and excelling at it was a way to challenge British supremacy and assert Indian agency. By embracing cricket, the Bhadrolok and the Maharajas played an instrumental role in not only spreading the game throughout Bengal but also in using it as a medium for political and cultural defiance, transforming the sport into a symbol of resistance and pride.

Sarada Ranjan Ray: The Intellectual Architect of Bengal's Cricketing Legacy

Bengal cricket owes much of its early development to the visionary leadership of the Maharaja of Natore, but it also owes a significant debt to the contributions of Sarada Ranjan Ray Chowdhury. Sarada Ranjan, the elder brother of Upendrakishore Ray Chowdhury and the paternal uncle of the legendary filmmaker Satyajit Ray, played an instrumental role in shaping the cricketing culture of Bengal. 

Born in the intellectually rich environment of Kishoreganj, a district in present-day Bangladesh's Dhaka Division, Sarada Ranjan Ray grew up in a family renowned for its academic and cultural influence. The Ray family’s intellectual legacy deeply shaped his worldview. Sarada’s early education began in the Minor school, followed by Mymensingh Zilla School, which was then part of Mymensingh before the region was later separated in 1971. 

The economic growth of Mymensingh district outpaced that of Dhaka, leading to the eventual political reorganization that saw Greater Mymensingh split from Dhaka. This regional shift, while politically significant, is secondary to the impact Sarada Ranjan Ray had on Bengal’s sporting landscape. 

After relocating to Dhaka, Sarada Ranjan completed his matriculation and pursued his college education at the prestigious Dhaka College. It was here that his passion for cricket truly flourished. From an early age, Sarada Ranjan was drawn to sports, particularly cricket, at a time when the game was beginning to take root in Bengal. Those who knew him as a young man recall how he would walk along the muddy roads of Katiyadi, bat and book in hand, a symbol of his dual devotion to academics and athletics. 

Cricket was not merely a pastime for Sarada Ranjan Ray; it was a lifelong pursuit that he studied with the same intensity as his academic endeavours. His deep love for the game extended beyond playing—it inspired him to write about it and, more importantly, to spread its reach across the region. His efforts to promote cricket in Bengal were as much about nurturing a sporting culture as they were about fostering a sense of community and pride in the game. Sarada Ranjan’s contributions were foundational, and his legacy in the world of Bengali cricket endures as a testament to his passion and dedication.

Sarada Ranjan Ray: Pioneering Cricket’s Rise in Bengal and Making the Game Accessible

While studying at Dhaka College, Sarada Ranjan Ray, alongside his brothers—Upendrakishore, Muktidaranjan, Kuladaranjan, and Pramadaranjan—founded the Dhaka College Cricket Club. This institution became a crucial space for introducing students to cricket, while simultaneously instilling the importance of physical fitness. During this period, a prevailing belief among the non-Bengali population was that the people of Bengal lacked the physical strength to assert themselves over others. Sarada Ranjan Ray, deeply uncomfortable with this stereotype, set out to challenge it by fostering a culture where Bengal’s youth would prioritize physical conditioning, preparing themselves to counter the criticisms with strength and vitality. His efforts bore fruit, as young Bengalis began to take sports and physical exercise seriously, laying the foundation for the development of a competitive cricket team.

After graduating from Dhaka College, Ray received the prestigious Premchand Scholarship and began studying Sanskrit. However, he did not complete his degree and instead took a position as a mathematics teacher at Aligarh University. Even while teaching, Ray continued to spread his passion for cricket, nurturing the game alongside his academic responsibilities. Eventually, he returned to Dhaka College as a professor, the very institution where he had first ignited Bengal’s cricketing flame.

The fruits of Ray’s early efforts soon became evident when his Dhaka College Cricket team travelled to Kolkata in 1884 to play against the renowned Presidency College. The match, held at Eden Gardens, ended in a historic victory for Dhaka College, which defeated Presidency College. This unexpected loss was not well received by the students and faculty at Presidency, who protested the inclusion of teachers in the Dhaka College team. The skill and experience of Sarada Ranjan and his brothers—Kuladaranjan and Pramadaranjan—had proven too much for the Presidency team to handle.

Sarada Ranjan, initially irked by the protest, voiced his discontent, but the matter was later addressed through negotiations between the British professors at Presidency College and officials from the Calcutta Cricket Club. They persuaded Ray to exclude teachers from his team in future matches. Feeling slighted by this compromise, Ray resigned from Dhaka College in protest.

Following his departure, the esteemed Ishwarchandra Vidyasagar invited Ray to join the Metropolitan Institute as a professor. However, the institution’s financial difficulties led Ray to pursue a different path. In 1895, he founded “S. Ray and Company,” a business selling books and cricket equipment. Ray’s shop, located in Kolkata, sold imported cricket merchandise, including bats and balls, but he made a point of offering these goods at affordable prices, ensuring that the game was accessible to young enthusiasts. The willow used for the bats was imported from Sialkot, and Ray’s factory in Jessore Road began producing affordable cricket bats. These low-cost bats became popular among teenagers, fueling their enthusiasm for the sport. In 1906, Ray’s “Balanced Bat” won an honourable prize at the Kolkata trade fair, further cementing his legacy as a key figure in making cricket more accessible to the masses.

Conclusion

Sarada Ranjan Ray was not only a passionate cricketer but also an astute coach and his coaching prowess did not go unnoticed. The Maharaja of Natore, recognizing his exceptional understanding of the game, enlisted him to coach his cricket team. Sarada’s grasp of cricket’s rules and technical intricacies was unparalleled, positioning him as one of the foremost intellectuals of the sport. He dedicated his life to both playing and imparting the game’s nuances, cultivating a deep appreciation for its beauty among his students and peers. His distinctive white beard often drew comparisons to the legendary W.G. Grace, but the resemblance was not merely physical. Sarada Ranjan Ray was, in fact, the *Grace of Bengal* due to his profound and lasting contributions to the game.

In many ways, Sarada can be regarded as one of the first individuals to introduce and popularize cricket in Bangladesh. His influence extended from his birthplace in Kishoreganj to Mymensingh, and eventually to Dhaka, where his legacy continues to resonate. His teachings laid the foundation for a cricketing culture that would flourish in the eastern part of Bengal, where the sport has become a defining element of the region’s identity. Sarada Ranjan Ray’s enduring impact is felt not only in the history of cricket in Bengal but also in the broader narrative of the game’s evolution in South Asia

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Monday, October 8, 2018

Didi: The Ethiopian Prince Who Mastered Football and Transcended Time

The story of Didi, the "Príncipe Etíope" (Ethiopian Prince), is one of grace, ingenuity, and a deep connection between the art of football and the human spirit. Born Waldyr Pereira in Campos dos Goytacazes, a modest town in Brazil, Didi rose from humble beginnings, overcoming poverty, adversity, and even the threat of a life-altering injury to become one of football’s most revered figures. His journey is a tale not just of sporting excellence but of profound influence on the game’s philosophy and style.

The Genesis of a Legend

Didi’s early life was marked by hardship. Selling peanuts to support his family, he played football on the streets, where his natural talent began to shine. At 14, he faced a severe knee infection that nearly led to the amputation of his right leg. This brush with tragedy only steeled his resolve. When his older brother Dodo joined Madureira, a Rio de Janeiro club, Didi tagged along. It was a serendipitous move; Madureira spotted Didi’s potential and signed him, while Dodo’s stint ended within months.

At Fluminense, Didi’s star began to ascend. He scored the first goal at the iconic Maracanã Stadium in 1950 and became instrumental in winning the 1951 and 1952 Campeonato Carioca titles. Yet, it was at Botafogo where his legacy crystallized, and his promise to walk home in full kit after a championship victory remains a cherished anecdote in Brazilian football lore.

The Maestro of the Midfield

Didi’s influence on the pitch was transformative. Known for his elegance and intelligence, he was the conductor of Brazil’s midfield, orchestrating play with an almost supernatural calm. His nickname, "Ethiopian Prince," bestowed by playwright Nelson Rodrigues, encapsulated his regal demeanour and fluidity. Rodrigues likened Didi’s treatment of the ball to “a rare and sensitive orchid,” while others compared him to jazz great Louis Armstrong, a virtuoso in his own right.

His signature move, the folha seca (dry leaf) free-kick, was born from adversity. A persistent ankle injury forced Didi to experiment with striking the ball differently. What emerged was a shot that defied physics, dipping and swerving unpredictably, leaving goalkeepers baffled. This innovation, achieved through relentless practice, became a precursor to the knuckleball technique later mastered by players like Cristiano Ronaldo and Juninho Pernambucano.

World Cup Glory and Leadership

Didi’s World Cup exploits are the stuff of legend. In 1958, he was the architect of Brazil’s first triumph, guiding a team that included a teenage Pelé and the mercurial Garrincha. When Brazil fell behind in the final against Sweden, Didi’s unflappable demeanour calmed his panicked teammates. “We’re better than them. We’ll score goals aplenty,” he assured them. Brazil won 5-2, with Didi’s leadership and vision earning him the tournament’s Best Player award.

In 1962, even without an injured Pelé, Didi again played a pivotal role as Brazil defended their title. His ability to inspire confidence and execute with precision underscored his value not just as a player but as a symbol of resilience and creativity.

A Brief Sojourn in Europe

Didi’s move to Real Madrid in 1959 was less harmonious. Despite his talent, he clashed with Alfredo Di Stéfano, the team’s dominant figure. The tension overshadowed Didi’s brief tenure, though he still managed to win the European Cup, becoming the first Brazilian to claim both the World Cup and Europe’s most prestigious club trophy. His departure from Madrid marked a return to Botafogo, where he joined one of the greatest club teams in Brazilian history, featuring legends like Garrincha, Zagallo, and Jairzinho.

The Philosopher Coach

Didi’s transition to coaching was as impactful as his playing career. In Peru, he led Sporting Cristal to a national title before guiding the Peruvian national team to their first World Cup qualification in 40 years. At Mexico in 1970, Peru’s quarter-final run, inspired by Didi’s tactical acumen, remains one of their proudest footballing achievements. Players like Teófilo Cubillas credit Didi for shaping their skills and instilling a deep understanding of the game.

A Legacy Beyond the Field

Didi’s story is not just about football. It is about perseverance, innovation, and the pursuit of excellence. His ability to blend artistry with efficiency, inspire teammates and elevate the game itself, makes him a figure of enduring significance. Pelé once remarked, “To Didi, playing football was like peeling an orange.” It was effortless yet precise, a blend of simplicity and sophistication.

Didi’s life and career serve as a reminder that football, at its best, is more than a game. It is a canvas for expression, a stage for courage, and a testament to the human spirit’s capacity to overcome and inspire. His journey from the streets of Campos dos Goytacazes to the pinnacle of global football remains an unparalleled tale of triumph and grace.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

From Waterlogged Land to Cricketing Legacy: The Maharajas of Natore and Bengal's Sporting Renaissance


 
Natore, a district of historical and cultural significance in Bangladesh, lies adjacent to the vibrant city of Rajshahi. Renowned for its contributions to the nation's economy, Natore houses two pivotal sugar mills that symbolize industrial progress. Yet, its essence is deeply rooted in a rich cultural tapestry. The district resonates with the lively rhythms of its bustling haats, bazaars, and fairs, creating an atmosphere of perpetual festivity. The name of Natore is also immortalized in literary tradition, thanks to Jibanananda Das's evocative poem about Bonolota Sen, whose mystique captures the imagination of readers across generations. Adding to its fame is the iconic Kachagolla, a delicately crafted sweetmeat that blends the rustic charm of curdled milk with the sweetness of sugar, captivating palates both at home and abroad. 

Historically, Natore was not always the thriving land we see today. Once a vast expanse of water, it began transforming in 1706 when Raja Ramjibon Rai undertook the ambitious task of reclaiming the waterlogged terrain to establish his capital. This marked the beginning of a new chapter, as the Maharajas of Natore spearheaded a movement toward cultural and economic renaissance. Their visionary leadership fostered advancements in education, the arts, and local industry, laying the groundwork for Natore’s prominence in the undivided Indian subcontinent. Among their many contributions, the Maharajas embraced cricket—a quintessentially British pastime—during the colonial era, embedding it into the cultural fabric of Bengal. 

The roots of cricket in the subcontinent can be traced back to 1721 when British sailors played an early match in the port of Cambay. These games initially meant to alleviate homesickness among the soldiers, soon piqued the curiosity of local spectators. Despite its complexity, cricket struck a chord with the locals, who observed it with fascination and gradually adopted it fervently. What began as a foreign diversion evolved into a shared passion, intertwining with the region's cultural identity. Natore, with its openness to artistic and sporting pursuits, became a vital node in spreading the game, exemplifying how colonial legacies could transform into enduring traditions. 

 Cricket as Power and Prestige: The Maharajas’ Game in Colonial India

In his seminal work, *Cricket in Colonial India (1780-1947)*, historian Boria Majumdar captures the intricate relationship between cricket and colonial India’s socio-political fabric. He writes, “From the earliest years of British settlement in India, cricket was nurtured by leading public figures, military commanders, educators, and journalists. Consequently, it was natural for men of status and affluence in India – the princes or Maharajas – to take up the alien sport. Maharaja patronage of sports was an established practice in India by the middle of the eighteenth century.” This observation underscores the dual nature of cricket in colonial India: a sport and a symbol, wielded as both a marker of prestige and a tool of resistance. 

The Maharajas of the Indian subcontinent, already enamoured with pursuits like big-game hunting, polo, golf, and horse racing, saw cricket as a new avenue to elevate their social standing. Initially an emblem of aristocratic leisure, cricket soon evolved into a platform for more profound ambitions. Majumdar aptly notes, “For some aristocrats, cricket was a tool of social mobility; for others, it was a means of challenging the British masters by defeating them on their own turf. For some others, however, much more than achieving social mobility by emulating the colonizers, it was a means to further other ambitions, gain economic stability, and secure political power over rivals.” 

Cricket thus became a complex instrument of power dynamics, transcending its colonial origins. It offered a medium for political manoeuvring, a stage for rivalries, and a mechanism for asserting dominance, not just over the British but also among the princely states themselves. The game’s popularity grew exponentially as it became entwined with the competitive spirit of the Indian aristocracy, who sought to outshine one another on the cricket field as much as in their courts and palaces. 

One of the most significant rivalries in this context was between Maharaja Nripendra Narayan Bhup Bahadur of Cooch Behar and Maharaja Jagadindranarayan Ray of Natore. Their contest was not merely a matter of sport but a microcosm of the larger interplay of power, prestige, and cultural assimilation in colonial Bengal. This rivalry, emblematic of the era, played a pivotal role in popularizing cricket across the region. The fervour and ambition that fueled their cricketing endeavours ensured that the sport took deep root in Bengal, ultimately transforming it into a lasting cultural legacy. 

Rivalry and Roots: How Natore and Cooch Behar Shaped Bengal’s Cricketing Legacy

Before the outbreak of the First World War, the Maharaja of Cooch Behar epitomized aristocratic cricket patronage, maintaining no fewer than three cricket teams at his own expense. These teams boasted the inclusion of renowned professional cricketers such as Joe Vine, George Cox, and Frank Tarrant, whose prowess on the field elevated the Cooch Behar XI to formidable heights. Well-balanced and strategically composed, the team exuded confidence and authority, challenging even the most competitive sides of the era with a sense of audacity that mirrored their patron’s ambition. 

The dominance of the Cooch Behar XI did not go unnoticed, particularly by the Zamindari state of Natore. Inspired, or perhaps provoked, by this display of might, Maharaja Jagadindranarayan Ray embarked on his own cricketing journey around 1906. Determined to rival the grandeur of Cooch Behar, he meticulously assembled a team that included talents like P. Vithal, J.S. Warden, P. Shivram, and K. Seshachari. Yet, Ray’s vision extended beyond merely replicating the success of his rival; it was imbued with a deeper purpose of fostering local pride and engagement. 

Maharaja Ray’s commitment to the game culminated in a bold infrastructural endeavour: the purchase of 45 acres of land at Bondel Road near old Ballygunge in South Kolkata. This vast expanse was transformed into a cricket field, a space that became both a sanctuary for his team and a stage for his ambitions. Unlike the Cooch Behar XI, which leaned heavily on imported talent, the Natore team featured a greater proportion of local players, particularly Bengalis. This deliberate inclusion not only galvanized Bengali spectators but also inspired them to embrace and practice the game, embedding cricket more firmly into the cultural identity of the region. 

Hemachandra Ray, reflecting on the era, poignantly remarked, “At the time when the Natore team dominated Bengal cricket, the Maharaja of Cooch Behar had also formed a quality cricket team. However, we Bengalis could not rejoice at the victories of the Cooch Behar side. This was because Bengalis were a marginal presence in the Cooch Behar team, and hence the credit for these victories went to the European players of the team.” His words underscore a critical distinction between the two teams: while Cooch Behar’s success was largely attributed to its reliance on professional players from Europe, Natore’s triumphs resonated as a source of pride for the Bengali populace, symbolizing a deeper connection between the sport and local identity. 

Cricket as Nationalism: The Maharaja of Natore’s Defiance on the Pitch

The Maharaja of Natore embodied the spirit of nationalism, his ideals deeply intertwined with both his political endeavours and his passion for cricket. A staunch supporter of the Indian National Congress, he rose to prominence at a young age, becoming the President of the Natore Political Association at just 18, a role he assumed at the behest of the legendary Surendranath Banerjee. By 1894, he had joined forces with Banerjee and Anondamohan Bose to serve as a member of the Rajshahi Municipality, actively contributing to the region’s governance. His nationalistic fervour reached its zenith during the anti-partition movement of 1905, where he emerged as a key figure opposing the division of Bengal. This unwavering commitment to the cause of Indian self-determination found a unique expression on the cricket field. 

For the Maharaja of Natore, cricket was far more than a sport—it was a symbolic battlefield. The cricket pitch became a stage where he sought to challenge the British Raj on their own terms, using their beloved game as a medium to assert Indian pride and resilience. Unlike his rival, the Maharaja of Cooch Behar, who relied on English professionals to bolster his team, Maharaja Ray’s vision was resolutely indigenous. He built his team exclusively with Indian players, a deliberate act of defiance and a statement of cultural sovereignty. 

To further his mission of fostering Bengal’s cricketing prowess, the Maharaja enlisted the expertise of Saradaranjan Ray, a pioneer in Indian cricket coaching. Under Saradaranjan’s guidance, the Natore team flourished, embodying both skill and the Maharaja’s nationalist ethos. This collaboration was later strengthened by the involvement of Saradaranjan’s brothers, Muktidaranjan and Kuladaranjan, who joined the Maharaja’s efforts to promote cricket not only in Bengal but across India. Together, they forged a cricketing movement that was as much about sporting excellence as it was about cultural and political assertion, leaving an indelible mark on the history of Indian cricket. 

Breaking Barriers: The Maharaja of Natore’s Vision for Cricket and Equality

The Maharaja of Natore’s determination to fulfil his dreams knew no bounds, a testament to his unwavering spirit and compassion. This resolve was most poignantly evident in his efforts to save the life of his adopted son, Srishchandra Ray. Srishchandra, a promising young cricketer from a humble background—his father a clerk at the Natore Court—had been embraced by the Maharaja as both a protégé and a symbol of his cricketing vision. Tragically, Srishchandra’s life was cut short by illness, leaving the Maharaja devastated. The loss was so profound that he retreated to Shantiniketan for a month in an attempt to cope with his grief, a gesture that astonished not only the royal family but also Srishchandra’s biological parents, who could scarcely fathom the depth of the Maharaja’s sorrow. 

The Maharaja’s inclusive philosophy extended beyond personal relationships and permeated his approach to cricket. When selecting his team, caste and social hierarchy held no sway over his decisions. This progressive outlook was exemplified in his choice to include Mani Das, a lower-caste Hindu, whose cricketing prowess the Maharaja valued above all societal prejudices. Despite resistance from the upper echelons of society, who favoured the celebrated Bengal cricketer Kaladhan Mukherjee, the Maharaja stood firm in his conviction that Mani was the superior player. 

Reflecting on Mani’s contributions, the Maharaja recounted, “Among the current lot of Bengali cricketers, Mani Das is one of the very best. I had sent him to open the batting against Gwalior. He wasn’t willing to open and was afraid of performing poorly in front of his more illustrious teammates. Noting this apprehension, I called him and said, ‘We’re Bengalis! In a predominantly Bengali cricket team, the Bengalis must take the lead.’ Upon hearing this, he touched my feet for blessings and went out to the middle, playing an innings that proved invaluable for the team in the end.” 

The Maharaja’s vision for a strong Natore cricket team was further realized with the inclusion of players who challenged societal norms and elevated the team’s stature. Among them was the legendary left-arm spinner Palwankar Baloo, a Dalit whose skill transcended the barriers of untouchability. Joined by other stalwarts like Ganpat and Vithal, Baloo helped transform the Natore side into one of the most formidable cricket combinations in Colonial India. The Maharaja’s efforts not only enhanced the team’s competitive edge but also symbolized his commitment to breaking down barriers, both on and off the cricket field.

From Cricket to Culture: The Evolving Legacy of Maharaja Ray

The Natore cricket team emerged as a beacon of pride for the Bengali community, offering more than just victories on the field—it provided a sense of liberation from the shackles of inferiority. Under the visionary leadership of Maharaja Ray, cricket became not only a tool of rivalry but also a platform for instilling the noble values of fairness and sportsmanship. His ambitions transcended mere triumphs over opponents; they encompassed the promotion of cricket as a symbol of integrity and a testament to the spirit of the game. 

One illustrative incident during a match against the Lawyers of the High Court highlighted the Maharaja’s unwavering commitment to fair play. In a contentious moment, a Natore batsman was declared run out after the ball, struck by the striker, appeared to deflect off the bowler’s hand before hitting the stumps. The bowler, Purna Ray, approached the umpire, insisting that he had not touched the ball and requesting the decision be reversed. The Maharaja, however, intervened with a firm yet principled stance, declaring that the umpire’s decision must stand, for it was the essence of the game to respect such judgments, even in error. Assuring the umpire—who appeared visibly shaken—that human errors were inevitable, the Maharaja upheld the sanctity of the sport, placing the spirit of cricket above all else. 

Despite his enduring enthusiasm for cricket, Maharaja Ray’s passion began to wane after 1914. The death of his longtime rival, the Maharaja of Cooch Behar, marked the end of an era and seemingly extinguished much of his competitive drive. Gradually, his focus shifted to another domain of cultural significance: Bengali literature. His deep involvement with the Bangiya Sahitya Parishad signalled a new chapter in his life, one dedicated to the promotion of literary excellence. While this transition brought a halt to the progress of cricket in Bengal, it underscored the Maharaja’s multifaceted legacy as a patron of both sport and culture. 

Conclusion

The reasons behind the Maharaja of Natore’s decision to withdraw from promoting the game he so dearly loved remain a subject of speculation. It is possible that his deep-rooted nationalistic sentiments and his passion for cricket were initially fueled by a desire to challenge the pride of his arch-rival, the Maharaja of Cooch Behar. Once his rival passed away, however, the driving force behind his cricketing ambitions may have faded. Regardless of the motivations, the Maharaja of Natore undeniably played a pivotal role in popularizing cricket in both Natore and Bengal. The connection between Natore and cricket is indelible—one that not only highlights the district’s rich sporting history but also adds to the broader tapestry of pride for both the local community and Bangladesh as a whole.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Mominul Haque: The Enigma of a Pocket-Sized Dynamo in ODIs


In 2012, a boyish-looking Mominul Haque burst onto the international cricket scene, stepping in for the legendary Shakib Al Hasan in Bangladesh’s ODI lineup. His debut series showcased a rare blend of talent with both bat and ball, hinting at a bright future. By the following year, Mominul had already captured the imagination of cricketing pundits. His fluid wrists during a Test match against Sri Lanka earned him accolades, and his breathtaking century against New Zealand that same year solidified his reputation as a “pocket-sized dynamo.” 

While Mominul became a mainstay at number three in Test cricket, his fortunes in the shorter formats have dwindled alarmingly. Once seen as a promising all-format player, he now finds himself at a crossroads, with his ODI career reduced to a frustrating series of unfulfilled potential. 

A Decline in Numbers 

Mominul’s recent performances in ODIs paint a dismal picture. His last five outings yielded scores of 5, 9, 1, 3, and 15, averaging just 7 runs per innings in 2024. Shockingly, this is an improvement over his 2015 average of 2. For a player of his calibre, such statistics are not only disappointing but also baffling. 

What went wrong for a batsman so gifted? 

The Format Conundrum 

One possible explanation lies in Mominul’s inability to adapt his technique and approach to the distinct demands of ODI cricket. In Tests, he thrives on patience, building his innings methodically while relying on boundaries to accumulate runs. However, the limited-overs format demands quicker decision-making, adaptability, and a more nuanced approach to strike rotation—qualities Mominul has struggled to exhibit. 

Unlike Test cricket, where time is a luxury, ODIs require batsmen to strike a delicate balance between aggression and consolidation. Mominul’s reliance on boundaries, rather than manoeuvring the ball into gaps and rotating the strike, creates unnecessary pressure. When boundaries dry up, he often resorts to rash strokes, leading to his downfall. 

The Numbers Behind the Struggle 

A deeper look at his dismissals reveals telling patterns. In 44% of his ODI innings, Mominul has been caught by fielders, and 20% of the time, he has been caught behind. These figures highlight two critical issues: 

1. Lack of Confidence: The high percentage of caught dismissals reflects a batsman throwing away his wicket due to a lack of conviction in his shot selection. 

2. Technical Vulnerabilities: In ODIs, the absence of a consistent slip cordon often lures Mominul into playing with an angled bat outside off-stump, a habit he successfully curbs in Test cricket. 

Lessons from the Greats 

Mominul’s predicament is not unique. Legendary ODI batsmen like Michael Bevan and Michael Hussey built their reputations not on brute force but on their ability to rotate strike and build innings under pressure. Closer to home, Mahmudullah Riyad and Mushfiqur Rahim have mastered this art, combining calculated aggression with strategic accumulation. 

The mantra for success in ODIs lies in adaptation. It’s not about clearing the boundary ropes from the outset but about earning the right to accelerate later. This requires an understanding of field placements, timing, and the ability to manipulate bowlers—skills Mominul possesses but has yet to consistently apply. 

The Way Forward 

Mominul must rediscover the essence of his batting. His strength lies in his pristine timing rather than sheer power. He can pierce gaps and accumulate boundaries with elegance, a skill that can yield dividends if paired with a more calculated approach. 

To rebuild his ODI career, Mominul needs to: 

1. Focus on Strike Rotation: Develop the habit of finding singles and twos early in his innings to ease the pressure. 

2. Temper Aggression with Patience: Avoid the temptation to dominate bowlers prematurely and instead build confidence through time at the crease. 

3. Refine Technique: Address his vulnerability outside off-stump by adopting a more compact stance and straightening his bat angle. 

Conclusion 

Mominul Haque remains one of Bangladesh’s most talented batsmen, but his ODI career hangs in the balance. The qualities that make him a Test cricket stalwart—timing, temperament, and touch—are assets that can also shine in ODIs if he adapts his mindset and approach. 

The road to revival may not be easy, but for a batsman once hailed as a pocket-sized dynamo, the potential for resurgence is undeniable. With the right adjustments and a renewed sense of purpose, Mominul can transform from an enigma to an enduring force in Bangladesh’s ODI lineup.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar