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 

Monday, October 1, 2018

The Unfinished Dream: Bangladesh Cricket and the Pursuit of Glory



Once again, Bangladesh stands at the precipice of cricketing greatness, only to falter when the summit seemed within reach. The recently concluded Asia Cup marked the third time the Tigers graced the finals, yet their elusive quest for a multi-national trophy continues. This tale of near misses began in 2009, when a defiant Sri Lanka, led by the unlikeliest of heroes, Muttiah Muralitharan with the bat, denied Bangladesh its maiden glory. Since then, the script has repeated itself – four finals, four heartbreaks – as the dream of lifting silverware in 32 years of ODI cricket remains tantalizingly out of reach. 

This year’s journey to the Asia Cup final was anything but smooth. It was a crucible of resilience, forged in the furnace of adversity. What sets this campaign apart from past efforts was the mental fortitude displayed by the Tigers. Gone are the days when the team unravelled following the loss of a star performer. This time, each setback seemed to strengthen their resolve, each injury igniting a new fire. By the time the final rolled around, they had captured the admiration of cricket’s intellectual elite, who recognized their journey not as a fleeting surprise but as a testament to their growing stature in world cricket. 

India may have clinched the title, but the battle-hardened spirit of Mashrafe Bin Mortaza and his men stole the show. The valiant display in the final, where they pushed the mightiest batting line-up to the brink, earned Bangladesh accolades that transcended the confines of victory or defeat. 

Reflections Beyond Euphoria 

In the aftermath, Bangladesh basks in the euphoria of their performance. The contentious dismissal of Liton Das and the unwavering adulation for Mashrafe dominate discussions across the nation. Yet, this is also a moment for introspection. While the Asia Cup has showcased their progress, it has also illuminated persistent vulnerabilities. 

The top-order fragility remains a pressing concern. Despite Liton Das’s magnificent century in the final, the quest for a reliable partner to complement Tamim Iqbal continues. Mehidy Hasan Miraz’s temporary promotion may have borne fruit in the short term, but his natural position lies further down the order. Thus, Liton emerges as the most viable long-term option alongside Tamim. 

The number three position presents another conundrum. While Shakib Al Hasan has admirably filled the role on occasion, it is evident that it curtails his instinctive, free-flowing style. Shakib thrives at number five, where his game can flourish unrestrained. Mohammad Mithun, on the other hand, showed the temperament and adaptability needed for the number three slot in the Asia Cup. His ability to anchor the innings, rotate the strike, and absorb pressure makes him a promising candidate. However, alternatives like Nazmul Hossain Shanto, despite his struggles, and the experienced Mominul Haque warrant consideration as backups. 

Soumya Sarkar’s performance in the final provided a glimpse of his potential as a lower-order finisher. His composure under pressure and handy medium pace offer flexibility, whether at number six, seven, or even as a contender for number three. 

Crafting the Ideal Combination 

A balanced lineup for the future could see Tamim and Liton as openers, Mithun at three, followed by Mushfiqur Rahim, Shakib, Soumya, and Mahmudullah forming a formidable middle order. The bowling unit led by Mashrafe, Rubel Hossain, Mustafizur Rahman, and Mehidy Hasan Miraz ensures a blend of experience, skill, and versatility. 

However, the path to success is not merely about selecting the right combination. It hinges on preparation, fitness, and addressing the gaps exposed during the Asia Cup. The eight months leading to the World Cup are an opportunity to refine strategies, build depth, and ensure that fitness issues do not derail the campaign as they nearly did this year. 

Looking Ahead 

The Asia Cup is history, but its lessons must serve as a guide for the road ahead. Bangladesh has demonstrated that they can compete with the best, but the leap from contenders to champions requires consistency, adaptability, and an unrelenting focus on improvement. The Tigers’ journey is far from over, and their greatest triumph may yet lie on the horizon. For now, the question lingers: what’s next for the Tigers?

Thank You
Faisal Caesar