India vs. Zimbabwe, Hero Cup, 1993: A Day of Chaos, Drama, and a Fitting Stalemate in Indore

When the Indian cricket team arrived in Indore for their clash against Zimbabwe, they might have expected a routine encounter, yet what transpired both on and off the field was anything but ordinary. A single day's practice was all they were afforded before the match, and even that was marred by organizational blunders. Team captain Mohammad Azharuddin and middle-order batsman Pravin Amre arrived late for practice, only to be denied entry by the local police. Confusion reigned as the two players tried to negotiate their way past an unyielding security cordon. Only after some convincing did they gain access, but the incident left Azhar fuming. His frustration boiled over when he took his anger out on photographers, verbally chastising them before ordering the security to disperse the crowd. The tension in the air was palpable, setting the tone for what would become an unforgettable game.

Off the field, chaos of a different kind unfolded. As reported by The Indian Express, opportunistic policemen were making a quick buck by charging eager fans for entry into the stadium. For those unwilling to endure the serpentine queues for tickets, there was a more convenient—albeit illicit—alternative. At Rs 50 for a pavilion seat and Rs 10 for a spot in the stands, spectators were willing to pay a premium for hassle-free access. This parallel economy flourished under the very noses of law enforcement, underscoring the deep-rooted issues of corruption in the administration of the game.

But the true drama played out on the field. With Kapil Dev having relinquished his role as India’s premier all-rounder, the mantle had passed to Manoj Prabhakar. The responsibility of opening the innings alongside WV Raman also fell upon him after Zimbabwe’s stand-in captain Andy Flower put India in to bat.

The Indian Innings – A Story of Struggle, Tactical Moves and Resilience

Raman, struggling for form with scores of 0 and 4 in the tournament, was retained despite Navjot Sidhu’s injury. His poor run continued as he was dismissed for a duck by David Brain, immediately putting India on the back foot. However, what followed was a partnership of patience and determination. Vinod Kambli, a man often mentioned in the same breath as Sachin Tendulkar in those days, joined Prabhakar to steady the innings. The duo proceeded cautiously, putting together 122 runs before Kambli fell to the off-breaks of Stephen Peall for a 96-ball 55. His innings was marked by an unusually restrained approach, hitting just one boundary.

Then came a curious tactical move from Azhar. Instead of sending himself, Tendulkar, or Amre to capitalize on the platform, he promoted Vijay Yadav. It was a decision that left many baffled, for if a big hitter was needed, was Yadav truly the best option over someone like Kapil Dev? The experiment backfired spectacularly—Yadav lasted just two balls before attempting a wild heave and getting dismissed for a duck.

Azhar finally came in to join Prabhakar, rotating the strike efficiently and keeping the scoreboard ticking with well-placed singles. Prabhakar, nearing a century, decided to take the attack to Peall but perished in the process, stumped after a well-crafted 91 off 126 balls. His innings, while invaluable, lacked acceleration, a factor that may have cost India some crucial runs in the final overs. Tendulkar, ever the aggressor, played a cameo—smashing a brisk 24 off just 16 balls before falling to Heath Streak. Azhar, shifting into slog mode, finished with an unbeaten 54 off 56 balls, including four boundaries and a six. India closed at 248 for 5—a competitive total given the era and considering their perfect 10-0 record against Zimbabwe in ODIs.

The Zimbabwean Response – A Story of Grit

However, Zimbabwe had come prepared. Dropping Mark Dekker for Grant Flower seemed a logical move, but it backfired. Grant, opening with his elder brother Andy, misread a Prabhakar delivery and was bowled early. Things worsened when Alistair Campbell, attempting an ambitious leg glance off Javagal Srinath, was bowled by sheer pace. At 23 for 2, Zimbabwe seemed in trouble.

Then came Dave Houghton, the veteran warhorse, to inject some stability. Azhar, sensing the need for a breakthrough, rotated his bowlers. First Tendulkar, then Kapil, but Houghton was undeterred. His counterattack featured three crisp boundaries and a towering six off Kapil. But just as he looked set for a match-defining knock, Kapil struck back, trapping him LBW just after the first drinks break. At 67 for 3, the match was finely poised.

Andy Waller kept Zimbabwe in the hunt with a fluent 33, but when he slashed at a Tendulkar delivery and was caught at gully, the tide shifted once more. The decisive blow came when Andy Flower, the glue holding Zimbabwe’s innings together, attempted an ill-advised slog off Rajesh Chauhan and was stumped for 52. At 143 for 5, India seemed firmly in control.

The Drama

But the match was far from over. Young Guy Whittall joined Ali Omarshah, and the duo launched a stunning counterattack. Their rapid 54-run partnership in just nine overs not only reduced the required runs by half but also ensured the run rate remained manageable. Meanwhile, India’s fielding imploded. Raman, in particular, had a dreadful day, drawing boos from the Indore crowd. Azhar himself lamented the shoddy fielding, later writing in his Indian Express column: “I’ve seen poor performances, but this was shocking. If Zimbabwe could adapt to the conditions, why couldn’t we? If we keep fielding like this, we’ll need to score 350 every match just to account for the fielding errors.”

Srinath, however, turned the game on its head in one sensational over. First, Omarshah fell to a lifter, playing it straight to Chauhan. Then, Whittall, stepping out to attack, was run out in a moment of sheer brilliance from Srinath himself. When Brain edged one to Azhar at slip, Zimbabwe had slumped to 212 for 8. India had one foot over the finish line.

Yet, Zimbabwe refused to surrender. Streak, though not yet the all-rounder he would become, showed glimpses of his fighting spirit. Peall, surprisingly, took the lead, audaciously pulling Srinath for a boundary. The equation narrowed—12 needed off 8 balls.

The climax was a nerve-wracking blur. A mix-up between Kapil and Kumble allowed an easy catch to go down, giving Zimbabwe three crucial runs. Peall was dismissed, bringing last man John Rennie to the crease with 10 needed off the final over.

Prabhakar, India’s most trusted death bowler, was given the responsibility. He held his nerve despite a tense few deliveries. Zimbabwe needed four off two balls. Rennie managed to get a boundary, bringing it down to two off the last ball.

Prabhakar produced a perfect yorker. Rennie somehow dug it out, scampering for a single. Streak, turning for a desperate second, fell short of his ground. Indore had witnessed a tie—only the third in ODI history at the time.

In the end, no side emerged victorious, yet neither felt defeated. It was a game that encapsulated cricket’s unpredictability, where fortunes swung wildly until the very last moment. As players left the field, it was clear: this match would not be forgotten anytime soon.

 Thank You

Faisal Caesar

The Kanpur Enigma: A Match, a Misstep, and a Storm That Followed

By the time India arrived in Kanpur for the fourth ODI of the Wills World Series, their place in the final was virtually assured. Two wins in the bank and a washed-out contest between West Indies and New Zealand meant this match held significance not for qualification, but for momentum and reputation. Yet, what unfolded would echo far beyond the boundaries of Green Park.

A Calculated Toss, a Confident Team

Mohammad Azharuddin, presiding over a batting unit as formidable as any in the subcontinent—Tendulkar’s brilliance, Sidhu’s grit, Jadeja’s swagger, Kambli’s flair—chose to chase on a benign pitch. The logic was sound: India had already gunned down West Indies once in the tournament. A rinse-and-repeat seemed likely.

But cricket, ever the trickster, had different plans.

Arthurton’s Resilience and India’s Misfires

The West Indians were offered early prosperity—not by design but through Vinod Kambli’s butterfingers. Twice within minutes he grassed chances that could have shaped the innings. Stuart Williams and Phil Simmons survived, then thrived.

Srinath, steaming in with fire but cursed by fate, repeatedly beat the bat only to be let down by fielding lapses. Tendulkar’s golden arm was needed to trigger relief, first removing Williams with a self-created moment of athletic brilliance. However, the notable absence of Brian Lara — benched for dissent in the previous match — changed the complexion of the middle order.

Amidst this, Keith Arthurton emerged as the ballast. He began steadily, then accelerated with purpose, carving drives and cuts that grew fiercer as overs dwindled. His final tally—72 from 62 balls—was a masterclass in pacing. With frantic running from Cummins and a late-innings injection of aggression, West Indies harvested 49 runs in the last five overs, closing at 257 for 6. Not unattainable, yet substantial enough to demand precision.

India’s Chase: A Story of Promise Dissolved

India responded with a dual-tempo plan: Tendulkar’s audacity at one end, Prabhakar’s anchoring at the other. The early passages aligned with this blueprint. Tendulkar swatted Cuffy aside and then dismantled Simmons with surgical aggression. But Benjamin and Cummins applied brakes—with Cummins eventually striking the decisive blow: Tendulkar castled for 67 in a display that felt like an opera’s crescendo cut mid-note.

From promise, anxiety was born.

Sidhu, starved of strike, perished in desperation. A bizarre interruption followed—spectator misconduct halting play, tempers flaring. When calm returned, chaos returned with it—but of the sporting kind. Azharuddin flicked imperiously before falling to an acrobatic one-handed snatch by Cummins. Kambli and Jadeja were run out—direct hits cutting deeper than yorkers.

Still, the chase was not lost. The required rate sat within reach: 63 needed off 54.

And then, inexplicably, the lights dimmed.

India crawled—five runs in four overs, eleven in the next five. Prabhakar, who had battled to a century of sweat rather than sparkle, managed only subdued applause. Mongia, equally cautious, finished with four off 21 balls. What the scoreboard recorded—211 for 5 and a 46-run defeat—could not fully capture: the bewilderment that hung heavy in the air.

Keith Arthurton, deserving and decisive, was named Man of the Match.

Aftermath: From Match to Maelstrom

What followed was larger than cricket—a vortex of suspicion:

Two points deducted, as match referee Raman Subba Row accused India of intentional underperformance — a ruling the ICC later overturned, deeming the referee had exceeded his authority.

Prabhakar and Mongia suspended, replaced by Chetan Sharma and Vijay Yadav for the final, which India won handsomely, almost mockingly, by 72 runs.

But controversy does not vanish simply because a trophy follows.

In 1997, Manoj Prabhakar reignited the embers through an explosive interview, alleging slow-batting instructions from team management. He claimed he was sacrificed at the altar of secrecy — ostracised for following orders.

The BCCI responded with gravity: a one-man inquiry under former Chief Justice Y.V. Chandrachud. Players, icons, and journalists were questioned. The report dismissed Prabhakar’s claims as tardy and untenable:

“I find it difficult to accept any of the statements made by Manoj Prabhakar… There appears to be no plausible reason why he slept over such important episodes for years.”

Mongia too denied any existence of match-fixing influence:

“It is crazy that any player will attempt to lose a match.”

For now—at least in that chapter—Azharuddin was cleared.

Epilogue: A Match That Refused to End

Cricket frequently leaves room for foil and shadow. The Kanpur ODI became more than a scorecard—it became a symbol of suspicion, a prelude to a more devastating match-fixing saga that would engulf Indian cricket years later.

On the surface, it was a tale of missed chances and strategic stagnation. Beneath, some insisted, was something far more unsettling.

To this day, the match remains a riddle — caught forever between flawed performance and alleged intent. A night when India lost not just a game but the unquestioned innocence of belief.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar