When the Impossible Took Root in Dhaka
In January 1998, as twilight loomed over the National Stadium in Dhaka, India conjured a chase so improbable, against a mighty Pakistan side, under failing light, and with the pressure of history, that it blurred the lines between sport and legend. The 1997-98 Independence Cup, celebrating 50 years of India's freedom and partition, brought together the subcontinent’s cricketing past and present. But on one unforgettable evening, it offered more: a staggering display of collective grit, anchored by the elegance of Sourav Ganguly and the composure of a little-known left-hander named Hrishikesh Kanitkar.
This was not merely a cricket match. It was a theatre of nerves, stamina, and strategy, played under the dimming skies of Dhaka, where every run felt like a rebellion against fate, and every over became a countdown to either collapse or catharsis.
A Tournament of Uneven Stakes
The structure of the 1997–98 Independence Cup was, in itself, unconventional. Three round-robin matches between India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh, followed by a best-of-three final, meant the finalists were all but pre-decided. Bangladesh, still an Associate Member of the ICC and years away from Test status, provided spirited resistance but remained largely peripheral to the narrative carved out by their subcontinental superiors.
India edged past Bangladesh in their opening match, navigating a brief wobble to secure a nervy four-wicket win. The second clash saw India outplay Pakistan in a fog-shortened 37-over contest, thanks to Tendulkar’s multi-faceted brilliance. Pakistan then comfortably overpowered Bangladesh to complete the formalities, setting up a tri-final showdown between two old rivals.
The first two finals mirrored each other: one-sided contests dictated by early dominance. India thrashed Pakistan in the opener, while Pakistan returned the favour in the second. It was now down to a decider, a single match to crown the champions. What followed was one of the most dramatic ODIs in cricket history.
Pakistan Paints a Masterpiece
Winning the toss, Azharuddin gambled on chasing, a move that had paid off in both prior finals. But this time, Pakistan had other plans.
After early setbacks, Saeed Anwar and Ijaz Ahmed launched a merciless counterattack. The flat track, combined with fielding restrictions, was tailor-made for destruction. Between Anwar’s graceful domination and Ijaz’s raw aggression, India’s bowlers wilted. The duo added a staggering 230 in 202 balls , then a record for the third wicket in ODIs, dismantling Sanghvi, Srinath, and the rest with clinical ease.
Anwar’s 140 and Ijaz’s 117 powered Pakistan to 314 for 5 in 48 overs, a total that had never been chased in the history of ODI cricket. The question was now not whether India would win, but how long they could delay defeat.
The Tendulkar Fire and Ganguly-Robin’s Forge
Tendulkar’s reply was swift and searing, a 26-ball 41 that ripped into Azhar Mahmood and Afridi with audacity. But his departure, skying Afridi to long-off, left a vacuum. Then came a curious but masterful decision: Azharuddin sent in Robin Singh, not Sidhu or Jadeja, to partner Ganguly. What followed was a partnership that remains one of Indian cricket’s most underrated masterclasses in controlled aggression.
Robin, India’s fittest cricketer then, ran like a machine and struck like a hammer. Ganguly, regal and ruthless, found the gaps with ease and cleared the boundary with flair. The two southpaws stitched 179 in 179 balls , seamlessly blending risk with calculation, aggression with caution.
They batted with an eye on the Duckworth-Lewis cutoffs as the light faded, 242 in 30, 268 in 35, 289 in 40, and kept India ahead. Ganguly’s 124, resplendent with 11 fours and a six, was poetry under pressure. Robin Singh’s 82, full of hustle and bottom-handed fury, was the steel behind the song.
Shadows, Sweat, and the Edge of Nerves
As dusk descended on Dhaka and the National Stadium’s primitive lighting proved inadequate, chaos took over. Fielders misjudged, batsmen groped, the ball became invisible, yet India marched on, inch by inch.
Jadeja, Mongia, and Kanitkar played nervy cameos in the dark, while Srinath threw the bat with desperate intent. Saqlain, the finest off-spinner in world cricket, bowled in the dying light like a blindfolded sniper. Fielders collided. Catches were dropped. Boundaries flickered through the gloom. Every ball was a battle.
Kanitkar, a young man with limited international credentials, found himself facing Saqlain with 3 required off 2 balls. And then, with a swing across the line, he carved the ball through midwicket for four. The Indian dugout erupted. Azharuddin leapt. Ganguly, his legs barely moving after battling cramps, stormed the field. A chase once considered suicidal was now historic.
More Than a Win, A Statement
This was not just about a world record chase. It was about resilience in ambiguity. About instinct in failing light. About rising above the shadows, literal and metaphorical, to carve out victory.
Tendulkar won the Player of the Series. Azhar lifted the trophy. But the day belonged to the unsung heroes: Ganguly, the prince of off-side elegance, who charmed the Dhaka crowd like a local son; Robin Singh, whose work ethic forged a bridge between promise and possibility; and Kanitkar, who became an unlikely poster boy for poise in chaos.
In a tournament where the format was questioned and the outcome assumed, India delivered a finale scripted in drama, defiance, and destiny. That evening, as the light dimmed in Dhaka, cricket witnessed one of its brightest moments.
“Victory belongs not to those who dominate with power, but to those who endure with heart."Dhaka, 1998, a saga written in shadow, remembered in gold.
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