Saturday, February 3, 2018

The Controversial Adelaide Test: A Clash of Skill, Grit, and Frustration

Few Test series in the modern era have matched the intensity, passion, and controversy of South Africa’s 1997-98 tour of Australia. The two sides, both brimming with world-class talent and fierce competitiveness, collided in a gripping contest that was ultimately overshadowed by an umpiring decision that still fuels debate.

Heading into the third and final Test in Adelaide, Australia led the series 1-0 after a crucial victory in Sydney. For South Africa, this match was not merely an opportunity for redemption—it was a battle to reclaim their standing against a team that had, time and again, found a way to break their resistance. The Proteas dominated large portions of the Test, putting themselves in prime position to secure a rare overseas win. But as the final moments unfolded, a single decision—one that blurred the fine lines between technicality and spirit—would leave the visitors seething.

The Defining Moment: Hit-Wicket or Not?

Australia, set a formidable target of 361, found themselves reeling at 202 for six. Mark Waugh, their elegant stroke-maker, stood firm amid the ruins. His resistance was admirable, though his survival owed much to South Africa’s generosity in the field—particularly Adam Bacher, who put down multiple chances. Yet, the moment that incited the most fury came in the dying stages of the match.

With just eight overs remaining, Waugh took a sharp blow to the arm from a Shaun Pollock short delivery. The ball ballooned toward gully, where Pat Symcox dived forward to claim what he believed to be a fair catch. The South Africans erupted in appeal, but umpire Doug Cowie turned it down. As Waugh turned away, the edge of his bat brushed against the stumps, dislodging the bails. Square-leg umpire Steve Randell noticed it immediately, and a fresh appeal followed.

The decision was sent upstairs to third umpire Steve Davis, who meticulously reviewed the incident against ICC’s Law 35. The law stated that a batsman could only be given out hit-wicket if the stumps were broken either while preparing to receive, in the act of playing a stroke, or immediately after setting off for a run. Waugh’s dismissal, Davis ruled, did not meet these criteria. He was given not out.

For South Africa, it was a hammer blow. To them, the evidence was clear—Waugh had lost control of his bat, and in their eyes, that was enough. Pollock later lamented, “If a batsman loses control and hits the stumps, that’s out.” The frustration was palpable, and their captain, Hansie Cronje, made his displeasure brutally clear.

Cronje’s Rage and the Fractured Spirit of the Game

The aftermath of the decision saw one of the most infamous acts of protest in Test history. Enraged by what he perceived as an injustice, Cronje stormed into the umpires’ dressing room and drove a stump through the door. It was an uncharacteristic moment for a man known for his composure, but it symbolized the raw emotion that had gripped his team.

Symcox, reflecting on the match years later, did not attempt to conceal his lingering bitterness. “There was no doubt he was out, we all knew,” he remarked. “At that stage of South Africa’s development as a team, it was quite critical.”

Not everyone, however, saw the incident through the same lens. Australian wicketkeeper Ian Healy staunchly defended the decision, arguing that Waugh’s bat had struck the stumps well after the stroke had been completed. “I was of the opinion it was the right decision,” he said, adding that Cronje’s furious reaction was unbecoming of a leader. “A team management letter from the South Africans was the only apology. We thought at the time that it was a bit soft.”

Mark Taylor, Australia’s captain, was equally firm in his belief. “I thought the umpire made the correct decision,” he said, before acknowledging the inevitable divide in opinion. “Ask Hansie, and he’ll probably say something completely different.”

A Legacy of What-Ifs

For all the controversy surrounding the hit-wicket ruling, it was not the only moment that cost South Africa the match. The ten missed catches—three of them by Bacher alone—were a far greater self-inflicted wound. Waugh, reprieved multiple times, carried his bat for an unbeaten 115, ensuring Australia held on for a series-clinching draw.

Yet, for South Africans, the wound remains. The 1997-98 Adelaide Test is not merely remembered as Dave Richardson’s farewell or a hard-fought stalemate. It is recalled with a lingering sense of injustice—a belief that fate, and the third umpire, robbed them of a famous victory.

For Australians, however, it remains another example of their team’s resilience, another chapter in their legacy of survival against all odds. Two nations, one decision, and a Test match that refuses to be forgotten.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Friday, February 2, 2018

Day 3: Sri Lanka Dominate on a Chittagong Featherbed


 It was a day of toil and tedium for Bangladesh as Sri Lanka, led by a masterclass from Kusal Mendis (196) and a fluent 173 from Dhananjaya de Silva, ended Day 3 of the first Test in Chittagong at a commanding 504 for 3. Roshen Silva added an unbeaten 87 to the mix, further deepening Bangladesh's woes on a pitch that has turned into a veritable batting paradise. Sri Lanka now trail Bangladesh’s first innings total of 513 by just nine runs, with seven wickets still in hand.

While the scoreboard painted a picture of dominance, the story of the day was the Chittagong surface, which has effectively neutralized the contest. The track, offering little to no assistance for bowlers, has already yielded over a thousand runs in just three days. Even a member of the Bangladesh team’s support staff was caught napping during the monotony of the day’s play—a telling image of the grind that unfolded.

The Revival of Mendis and de Silva

Six months ago, both Kusal Mendis and Dhananjaya de Silva were grappling with form issues. However, the benign conditions in Chittagong seemed tailor-made for their resurgence. The duo batted with elegance and authority, scoring at a brisk rate of 3.5 runs per over. Mendis’ innings, in particular, was a study in balance, as he drove, cut, and flicked with precision to anchor Sri Lanka’s reply.

De Silva, meanwhile, was in imperious touch, mixing caution with aggression. His innings not only showcased his technical prowess but also his ability to accelerate when required. Together, they made Bangladesh’s bowling attack look toothless, milking runs with ease.

Bangladesh’s Spinners: Toil Without Reward

The three-pronged spin attack of Taijul Islam, Mehidy Hasan Miraz, and Sunzamul Islam bore the brunt of Sri Lanka’s dominance, sending down a combined 117 overs for 379 runs. Mehidy, in particular, struggled to find the rhythm, conceding runs at an alarming economy rate of 5.10. While there were occasional attempts to vary pace and trajectory, the lack of bite and pace on the deliveries rendered these efforts largely ineffective.

In the early part of the day, Bangladesh’s spinners bowled at speeds hovering around 75 to 80 km/h, far too slow to trouble batsmen on this placid surface. By the final session, they marginally increased their speeds to 80-87 km/h, but the damage had already been done. The spinners’ inability to adapt quickly to the conditions underscored the limitations of a one-dimensional attack.

Mustafizur Rahman: A Lone Warrior

On a day when bowlers were consigned to the role of spectators, Mustafizur Rahman stood out with his skill and intent. With the first new ball, he consistently probed the good and full-length areas, generating movement off the seam and beating the bat on several occasions. His ability to bowl with precision from both over and around the wicket added variety to his attack.

Mustafiz’s second spell with the new ball was even more impressive. Recognizing the futility of defensive bowling on such a lifeless pitch, he opted for an aggressive approach, mixing short-pitched deliveries with off-cutters, away swingers, and in-cutters. This attacking mindset accounted for the wicket of Dhananjaya de Silva, who fell to a well-directed short ball while attempting to accelerate. De Silva’s dismissal marked a brief period of control for Bangladesh, as Sri Lanka’s scoring rate dipped to 2.7 runs per over in the final session.

What set Mustafiz apart was his unrelenting pursuit of wickets. He attacked the top of off-stump with precision and wasn’t afraid to pitch the ball on middle and leg to induce movement back into the right-handers. Even when these tactics carried the risk of being punished, Mustafiz’s courage and commitment to his craft were evident.

A Missed Opportunity for Bangladesh’s Think Tank

In hindsight, Bangladesh’s decision to field three spinners and only two pacers appears shortsighted. On a track that offered no assistance to spin, an additional pacer could have provided Mustafizur with much-needed support and added a cutting edge to the attack. The absence of a second seamer capable of exploiting reverse swing or maintaining pressure with pace was glaring.

The lack of balance in the bowling attack has left Bangladesh reliant on individual brilliance rather than a cohesive unit. Mustafizur’s efforts deserve commendation, but Test cricket is seldom won by lone warriors. A more proactive approach in team selection and strategy will be crucial if Bangladesh hopes to compete on unforgiving surfaces.

Looking Ahead

With two days still to play, Sri Lanka will look to bat Bangladesh out of the game, piling on a lead that could put the hosts under pressure in the fourth innings. For Bangladesh, the focus will be on damage control and salvaging pride. However, unless the pitch undergoes a dramatic transformation, the prospect of a result in this Test seems as remote as any assistance for the bowlers on this Chittagong deck.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar   

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Mahmudullah Riyad: The Unsung Hero of Bangladesh Cricket


In the annals of Bangladesh cricket, certain moments stand out as defining—the kind that light up a nation’s collective memory. Yet, lurking in the shadows of these celebrated episodes is a man who has quietly held the team together time and again: Mahmudullah Riyad. His story is not one of glamour or flamboyance but of resilience, composure, and an understated brilliance that often goes unnoticed.

Gazi’s Breakthrough, Mahmudullah’s Resolve

The year was 2012, and the cricketing world was abuzz with Sohag Gazi’s debut against the West Indies. Opening the bowling alongside Shahadat Hossain, Gazi’s dismissal of Chris Gayle turned him into an overnight sensation. As the West Indies declared after amassing a formidable total, Bangladesh’s reply was spearheaded by Nasir Hossain’s audacious counterattack. In the midst of this, Mahmudullah—batting at number seven—played a vital yet largely overlooked role, guiding Bangladesh to a 29-run lead. When the team faltered against Tino Best’s fiery spell on a spin-friendly track, it was Mahmudullah’s steely resolve that kept the dream alive. Yet, his efforts went unheralded as Bangladesh’s hopes were dashed with his dismissal.

Khulna 2012: Abul’s Euphoria Overshadows the Anchor

The second Test in Khulna saw Bangladesh reeling at 193 for 8 on the first day. It seemed another collapse was imminent until Mahmudullah found an unlikely ally in Abul Hasan. The pair stitched together a record-breaking 184-run partnership for the ninth wicket, with Abul’s flamboyant century capturing the nation’s imagination. While the spotlight firmly rested on Abul, few paused to acknowledge Mahmudullah’s role as the sheet anchor, providing stability and assurance in a precarious situation. His innings was a masterclass in tempering aggression with composure, yet it was drowned in the cacophony of Abul mania.

Chittagong 2015: Composure Amid the Fizz Mania

By 2015, Mustafizur Rahman had become the poster boy of Bangladesh cricket, his exploits in limited-overs cricket spilling over into the Test arena. On a sluggish Chittagong pitch against South Africa, Mustafiz’s incisive bowling dominated headlines. Amid the frenzy, Mahmudullah once again emerged as the quiet savior. Coming in at number four, he weathered the storm with a gritty 67 off 192 balls, laying the foundation for a strong Bangladesh response. Unfortunately, the Test was abandoned due to rain, and Mahmudullah’s efforts were eclipsed by the “Fizz” phenomenon.

Mirpur 2018: Holding Firm Against Sri Lanka

In the first Test against Sri Lanka at Mirpur, Bangladesh’s middle order seemed intent on squandering a flat batting track. Yet, Mahmudullah stood firm, marshalling the lower order to push the team past 500 runs. His innings was a testament to his ability to adapt and persevere, but as soon as the innings ended, the focus shifted to Mominul Haque and others. Once again, Mahmudullah’s quiet heroics faded into the background.

The Culture of Forgotten Heroes

Bangladesh cricket has long celebrated its flamboyant stars—those who dazzle with aggression or stir emotions with patriotic fervor. Tamim Iqbal’s stroke play, Shakib Al Hasan’s all-round brilliance, and Mustafiz’s youthful exuberance have made them household names. In contrast, Mahmudullah’s calm demeanor and workmanlike approach often fail to capture the public imagination. Yet, his contributions have been no less critical. He has been the glue holding the team together in moments of crisis, his innings often the difference between defeat and survival.

A Hero in the Shadows

Christopher Reeve once said, “A hero is an ordinary person who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.” By this definition, Mahmudullah is a true hero of Bangladesh cricket. He does not seek the limelight, nor does he crave adulation. Instead, he lets his bat do the talking, crafting innings of quiet significance that anchor the team in turbulent waters.

The Need for Recognition

As fans and pundits, we must learn to value substance over spectacle. Mahmudullah’s contributions may lack the fireworks of a Tamim six or the drama of a Mustafiz spell, but they are no less vital. His ability to bat with the lower order, his calm under pressure, and his unyielding determination make him an indispensable part of Bangladesh cricket.

Let us not forget Mahmudullah Riyad. He may not fit the mold of a conventional superstar, but in his quiet, steadfast way, he embodies the spirit of the game. It is high time we celebrate the unsung hero who has so often lit the way when the Tigers have lost their path.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

The Fine Balance: Pitch Preparation and Accountability in Bangladeshi Cricket


 Cricket, often described as a battle between bat and ball, thrives on balance. However, recent controversies surrounding pitch preparation in Bangladesh have reignited debates about the fine line between home advantage and fairness. The Mirpur wicket for the Tri-series final between Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, which saw the hosts succumb to a heavy defeat, has become a focal point of discussion. Rather than introspection over poor batting, much of the blame has been shifted to the curator, Gamini Silva, for preparing a slow wicket. This episode reflects a recurring pattern of scapegoating in Bangladeshi cricket.

The Blame Game and Its Pitfalls

The Bangladesh Cricket Board (BCB) sought an explanation from Silva, alleging that the wicket failed to meet expectations. BCB Media Committee Chairman Jalal Yunus expressed discontent, claiming the pitch, expected to yield 320 runs, turned sluggish. This criticism, however, was based largely on speculative reports rather than concrete evidence. A private television channel’s conjectures fueled the narrative, prompting the BCB to question Silva. Yunus defended the inquiry as a routine procedure, but the optics of blaming an individual for a collective failure were hard to ignore.

From a neutral perspective, the criticism seems misplaced. While the pitch may not have been ideal, it was not unplayable. Mahmudullah Riyad’s composed innings on the same surface highlighted that application and adaptability, rather than conditions, were the key determinants of success. The tendency to deflect accountability onto external factors undermines efforts to address deeper issues within the team’s performance.

Home Advantage vs. Sporting Integrity

Bangladesh’s desire for pitches tailored to their strengths is not unusual. Home teams often leverage familiar conditions to gain an edge. However, there is a distinction between preparing result-oriented wickets and creating surfaces that overly favour one aspect of the game. The Chittagong pitch for the first Test against Sri Lanka exemplifies the latter. Described as a "road," it offered little for bowlers, reducing the contest to a batting exhibition. While Tamim Iqbal, Imrul Kayes, Mominul Haque, and Mushfiqur Rahim capitalized on the benign conditions, the lack of challenge rendered the match a predictable affair. Such wickets, while beneficial for boosting batting averages, do little to enhance the competitive spirit of Test cricket.

Result-oriented wickets, by contrast, test the skills of both batsmen and bowlers. They demand adaptability, resilience, and strategic acumen, qualities that define great teams. Bangladesh’s reliance on flat tracks reflects a defensive mindset, prioritizing safety over growth. True progress lies in embracing challenging conditions that expose weaknesses and foster improvement.

The Global Perspective on Pitches

The International Cricket Council (ICC) has been vigilant in addressing substandard pitches. Both bowler-friendly and batsman-dominated tracks have faced scrutiny. The Johannesburg wicket for the third Test between South Africa and India, rated “poor” by the ICC, was penalized for being excessively bowler-friendly. Similarly, the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG) received a warning and fines for a lifeless deck that produced a tame draw during the Boxing Day Test against England.

These examples highlight the ICC’s commitment to maintaining balance in cricket. While wickets should not disproportionately favor bowlers, they must also avoid reducing bowlers to mere spectators. Cricket’s essence lies in the contest between bat and ball, and curators play a pivotal role in preserving this equilibrium.

The Way Forward

Bangladesh’s approach to pitch preparation requires a paradigm shift. Emotional decisions, driven by short-term goals, often backfire. Instead, curators must adopt a logical and holistic perspective, considering the broader implications of their choices. Tracks that cater exclusively to batsmen may yield short-lived success but hinder the team’s development in the long run.

Moreover, the obsession with batsmen’s safety and comfort must give way to a more balanced outlook. Cricket is not merely about runs; it is about resilience, adaptability, and the ability to thrive under diverse conditions. Bowlers, who toil tirelessly on unresponsive surfaces, deserve equal consideration. After all, the beauty of cricket lies in its unpredictability, in the moments when a bowler’s skill triumphs over a batsman’s prowess.

Conclusion

The Mirpur controversy and the Chittagong batting parade underscore the need for introspection in Bangladeshi cricket. Blaming curators or conditions is a convenient escape, but true progress demands accountability and a willingness to embrace challenges. Bangladesh must strive for wickets that foster competitive cricket, where both bat and ball have their moments to shine. Only then can the team realize its full potential and contribute meaningfully to the global cricketing narrative.

Thank You
Faisal Caesar 

Sunday, January 28, 2018

A wind of change: The silent renaissance of Sri Lankan Cricket


Cricket often mirrors life-fleeting moments of triumph and heartbreak stitched together by resilience. On a balmy afternoon, when Tamim Iqbal charged down the wicket to hammer a delivery from Dushmantha Chameera, fate had something different in mind. Chameera, startled, let the ball slip through his grasp, a reminder of how brutal milliseconds in cricket can be. But what followed was not the expected script. The pacer didn't crumble, as he might have six months ago. Instead, he bounced back with a ferocious short-pitched ball that tempted Tamim into a mistimed hook shot—one that landed straight in the hands of midwicket.

 A glimpse of Sri Lanka’s transformation

The moment encapsulated a quiet but palpable shift in Sri Lanka’s approach to cricket. Chameera’s ability to remain unfazed after dropping a catch epitomized the newfound grit. This wasn’t the Sri Lankan team that seemed adrift not long ago, defeated by Zimbabwe and Bangladesh. Something intangible had changed: a culture of belief was seeping back into the veins of the team. 

In the eighth over, another subtle yet telling incident unfolded. Mohammad Mithun’s defensive push eked out a single thanks to a sloppy piece of fielding at cover. What could have demoralized the fielding side instead sparked a response—determination to tighten every bolt, leaving no room for lethargy. The very next over, Thisara Perera delivered a pinpoint direct hit from mid-off, catching Mithun short of his ground. 

 This was not just a team playing cricket; this was a team-building character.** 

From Chaos to Cohesion: Chandimal and the Rise of Leadership 

Mushfiqur Rahim and Mahmudullah Riyad fought back, stitching together a partnership that threatened to tilt the momentum. Sri Lankan captain Dinesh Chandimal, a player often criticized for lacking leadership flair, seemed undeterred. As his teammates quenched their thirst during the drinks break, Chandimal moved among them, offering words of encouragement. It was a subtle yet profound image - a captain uniting his men with purpose. 

And that leadership soon bore fruit. Chandimal’s tactical acumen came to life when he placed a leg slip for Mushfiq, sensing the batter’s intent to sweep Akila Dananjaya. The plan worked to perfection: a sweep, a gentle flick, and Mushfiq was caught, a dismissal born of strategy rather than chance. 

Chandimal’s evolution mirrored Sri Lanka’s broader resurgence

 Youthful Zeal and Strategic Gambles 

Sri Lanka’s newfound resilience wasn't limited to seasoned campaigners. The inclusion of Shehan Madushanka—plucked from the bench in place of the more experienced Sandakan—was a bold move that exemplified the team’s new philosophy. What seemed like a gamble paid off spectacularly, as the young pacer bagged a hat-trick on his debut, announcing himself to the cricketing world. 

This youthful exuberance - blended with fearless intent - symbolized a fundamental shift in the team’s mentality. No longer content with mediocrity, the Islanders embraced the idea of playing to win. 

Victory was no longer a distant dream - it was a destination they were sprinting toward.

Hathurusingha's Invisible Hand 

The silent architect of this renaissance was none other than Chandika Hathurusingha. His arrival as head coach came amid scepticism, but within weeks, the transformation was undeniable. Even when Sri Lanka lost key players like Angelo Mathews and Kusal Perera to injuries, Hathurusingha remained calm, urging his squad to focus on effort over outcome. His mantra? Play with intent, and the results will follow. 

Ironically, Bangladesh—where Hathurusingha once worked his magic—had let him go, seemingly blind to the coach's transformative powers. Under his tutelage, Bangladesh had grown from an underdog to a force to reckon with, and now, Sri Lanka was reaping the rewards of his philosophy. 

As Chandimal aptly put it, “We’re not thinking about the result. We’re focused on how to play good cricket.”

That mindset, simple yet profound, was redefining Sri Lanka’s cricketing future. 

Redemption from the Ashes 

Barely a week ago, this same Sri Lankan team had stumbled against Zimbabwe and been humbled by Bangladesh. Fans, exhausted by years of inconsistency, were quick to write them off. But Hathurusingha never flinched. He knew that the story was far from over. 

And now, with the team surging into the final—against all odds—it was clear that a new chapter was being written. The Sri Lankans were playing not just for pride but with conviction, a fearless brand of cricket that was born from self-belief, unity, and strategic brilliance. 

The Magic of a Coach 

In the end, it wasn’t just the tactics or the talent that made the difference - it was belief. Hathurusingha, through meticulous man-management and strategic insight, had rekindled the fire within the team. The heydays of Sri Lankan cricket might not be far away after all. 

For fans of Bangladesh, however, there was a bitter aftertaste. How could they let go of such a visionary coach, someone who had taken their team to new heights? Some in the media had even insulted Hathurusingha, failing to see the genius at work. 

Now, as the Sri Lankan team danced on the brink of redemption, it was hard not to feel a pang of regret. 

The magic of Hathurusingha was real—and it had just begun to cast its spell on the Islanders.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar