by John Wisden
In line with the ICC’s rotating presidency, A. H. M. Mustafa Kamal was nominated as ICC vice-president, and had to resign from his position at the BCB. Nazmul Hasan, like Kamal an MP with the ruling Awami League, replaced him as BCB president in October.
INDIAN CRICKET, 2012
Transition and denial
ANAND VASU
Thirteen is no lucky number. But, for India, 2013 could not come quickly enough after a year that held precious little joy. If 2011 was saccharine-saturated – India began it No. 1 in the Test standings and lifted the World Cup – 2012 was marked by strife and disappointment.
The year began with a 4–0 Test blanking in Australia, a few months after England had administered the same medicine. The problem was, India refused to swallow it. They believed life would return to normal at home. A predictably flaky New Zealand side reinforced that complacency when they were bundled out for 159 and 164, to go down by an innings and 115 runs at Hyderabad, before losing at Bangalore. India appeared to be in possession of a new star:
Ravichandran Ashwin, the off-spinner with a penchant for bowling doosras, carrom balls and much else besides, took 18 wickets in the two Tests.
New Zealand may have been well beaten, but for India life was far from rosy. The BCCI were confronted with a major challenge over the future of Duncan Fletcher, who could not claim one notable result in his 18 months as coach by the end of the England Test series in December. In fairness, he had presided over a period of transition. On March 9, Rahul Dravid announced his retirement; then, in August, V. V. S. Laxman said he’d had enough too. They did not plan it that way, but Dravid and Laxman had both ended their international careers in the Adelaide Test. “The game is lucky to have you and I have been lucky to play before you,” Dravid told fans at the Chinnaswamy Stadium in Bangalore. “My approach to cricket has been reasonably simple: it was about giving everything to the team, playing with dignity and upholding the spirit of the game.” It even drew an emotional speech from the usually stony-faced BCCI president N. Srinivasan.
When Laxman signed off, accused by some of holding up the inevitable progress of an as yet unidentified young Indian batsman, it was no less seminal a move. “I’ve always kept the country’s success and need ahead of my personal aspirations,” he said. “While I’d love to contribute to the team, especially against England and Australia later in the season, I think it’s the right time to give the opportunity to a youngster in home conditions before tough overseas tours next year.” That he was still good enough to play – and did so for Hyderabad in the Ranji Trophy – was not in doubt. Neither did he deserve the insinuations and barbs that hastened his departure.
Sachin Tendulkar, for the first time in his career, was exposed to well-founded mutterings too. By the end of the year, Tendulkar, now 39, had gone 17 Tests in almost two years without a century. Against New Zealand, his habit of playing across his front pad, without the assurance of old, left him looking extremely mortal. It prompted deep, but usually sympathetic, debate about his place through England’s tour late in the year. Even when scoring 76 at Kolkata, he was battling against the fading of the light. Tendulkar made the move to call time on his one-day international career (which, in truth, had been intermittent for a number of years), in the hope of prolonging his Test life.
With Dravid and Laxman gone, a whole new world opened up for Virat Kohli and Cheteshwar Pujara. While Kohli, ordained for greater things, found the going tough in the second half of 2012, Pujara enhanced his reputation as a doer rather than a talker. His reputation as a greedy run-scorer was confirmed in the First Test against England at Ahmedabad, when he made an unbeaten 206 in seven and a half hours, then 41 not out to see India over the finishing line. It looked as though England might never get him out. His 15 first-class centuries leading into the game were all numbers to be reckoned with – including ten scores between 145 and 302 – but it was not until Ahmedabad that he was accepted as a worthy successor to Dravid at No. 3.
England came back fiercely to win a Test series in India for the first time since 1984-85. Kevin Pietersen’s masterful 186 on a Mumbai turner showed India up in conditions that should have suited them best. India were forced to drop the ineffectual Zaheer Khan for the final Test, and played four spinners – to no avail. As the series turned England’s way, it became sullied by a debate about pitches: namely to what extent M. S. Dhoni and Srinivasan could reasonably expect to dictate how they were prepared.
England returned home for Christmas between the Twenty20 and one-day matches, presenting a free window, which was filled by Pakistan, as the countries met for their first bilateral series in five years. But India were overwhelmed by Pakistan’s youthful bowlers, and lost the one-day series with a match to spare. A narrow victory over England did at least return India to No. 1 in the ICC one-day rankings. This was the format in which Dhoni was most valuable, but observers were beginning to ask whether he should redefine his role in one or more of the sides to stem the flow of defeats.
Back in March, Kohli had scored superb centuries to beat Sri Lanka and Pakistan, but India were predictably distracted by the spectre of Tendulkar’s 100th international hundred and lost the game in which he finally ticked it off, to Bangladesh, costing them a place in the final. India were beaten only once, by Australia, at the World Twenty20, but were so torn apart by Shane Watson in the Super Eights that it left their net run-rate irreparably damaged.
The IPL ran into its share of problems too. Once again, it was left to a media house rather than the authorities to dig up the dirt. From the testimony of several cricketers who bragged about receiving under-the-table cash payments in contravention of the salary caps in place, India TV exposed a culture of lying and a widespread disregard for the rules. The BCCI came down hard on the five players in question – banning T. P. Sudhindra for life for “receiving a consideration to spot-fix in a domestic game” – but they did not censure the franchises allegedly making the illegal payments.
The BCCI maintained their unyielding stance on the Decision Review System, to the frustration of the rest of the cricketing world. The ICC executive board met in Kuala Lumpur in June with a view to enforce the universal application of the DRS. But the BCCI refused to budge. Outgoing ICC president Sharad Pawar chaired the meeting and, without his calling for a vote on the issue, there was no chance of moving forward.
NEW ZEALAND CRICKET, 2012
Breakdown in relations
ANDREW ALDERSON
New Zealand are no strangers to cricketing drama, but Hollywood’s finest scriptwriters would have marvelled at the turmoil packed into 2012. Fluctuating performances, leadership conflicts and vehement protests from fans and former players made for a compelling but destructive soap opera.
The year was bookended with Test victories over Zimbabwe – by a national-record innings and 301 runs at Napier – and Sri Lanka, a 167-run triumph in Colombo born in adversity. But precious little came in between, with six defeats in eight other Tests. Adding to the malaise were ten losses in 14 completed one-day internationals, and eight in 16 Twenty20 matches (plus two eliminator-over failures at the World Twenty20).
Worse, the goodwill engendered from New Zealand’s first Test win in Sri Lanka for more than 14 years evaporated immediately, when – at the instigation of coach Mike Hesson – Ross Taylor was removed from all forms of captaincy, and replaced by Brendon McCullum. A public-relations shambles ensued.
“I knew [working with Hesson] would be tough from the outset,” said Taylor. “I gave him as much support as I could, but it wasn’t reciprocated.” Taylor had batted New Zealand to a series-levelling victory in Colombo with 142 and 74, knowing Hesson would recommend his demotion as captain regardless. Hesson maintained that his intention, articulated in hotel-room meetings the day after the 50-over series defeat earlier on the tour, was to push for a split leadership, in which Taylor would keep the Test captaincy but pass on limited-overs duties to McCullum. Taylor claimed this plan was not made clear at the t
ime, and interpreted it as a move to get rid of him altogether. In his last match in charge, he saved his side from the ignominy of equalling New Zealand’s worst losing streak of six Tests, set in the dark days of the mid-1950s. But it did not stop him pulling out of the end-of-year visit to South Africa, saying: “I don’t believe I can give 100% to the game at this time.”
Some good did emerge from the mess, as anecdotal evidence of apathy towards cricket in New Zealand proved exaggerated. Taylor’s treatment unleashed rare passion from fans and past players, who claimed he had not received the traditional Kiwi fair go. It prompted Martin Crowe, arguably the country’s greatest batsman and a long-time mentor of Taylor, to tweet that he had burned his New Zealand blazer in protest. He later insisted the burning had been “metaphorical”, and would be giving the blazer to charity “very soon”. Meanwhile, Hesson’s supporters believed he had been forced to make a brave decision in the interests of a dispirited team ranked eighth in Tests and Twenty20s, and ninth in one-day internationals, below Bangladesh.
Hesson’s predecessor, John Wright, had completed a 19-month spell at the end of the West Indies tour in August, having signalled his intention to leave in May after struggling to gain the autonomy he wanted from director of cricket John Buchanan. New Zealand lost all but one of in nine internationals in the Caribbean, but the tour was spared in-depth probing by the media because of the concurrent success for the Olympic team in London.
Wright’s exit left New Zealand cricket in a melancholic state. A respected former opener, he had helped orchestrate their first Test win over Australia since 1992-93, and their first appearance in the semi-finals of a subcontinental World Cup, and made some bold selections based on form (Mark Gillespie and Dean Brownlie) and potential (Doug Bracewell and, as wicketkeeper, B-J. Watling).
The 38-year-old Hesson, a former Otago coach apparently rated highly by New Zealand Cricket for his man-management skills, succeeded Wright for the India tour in August after curtailing his contract with Kenya in May citing security concerns. New Zealand produced a credible performance under him at the World Twenty20, tying with eventual finalists West Indies and Sri Lanka in the Super Eights, but they lacked killer instinct.
Individual highlights were thin on the ground. Martin Guptill excelled in the Tests against West Indies, and the limited-overs matches against Zimbabwe, and reached a 69-ball century off the last delivery to topple South Africa in a Twenty20 match in East London. He completed a sequence of five consecutive international half-centuries against Zimbabwe and South Africa – a feat previously achieved for New Zealand only by Andrew Jones – but appeared to have developed a mental block converting fifties into hundreds.
Taylor’s batting flourished as captain, with three Test centuries, and Kane Williamson’s unbeaten 102 to draw the Wellington Test against South Africa was among the gutsiest innings played by a New Zealander, let alone a 21-year-old. The troubled Jesse Ryder opted out of international cricket after an altercation with a member of the public at a Napier hotel in February – the latest in a long line of indiscretions.
Tim Southee showed glimpses of becoming the attack’s spearhead, with 25 wickets at 22 in six Tests after struggling to hold his place earlier in the year; the highlight was seven for 64 at Bangalore, New Zealand’s best in India. Trent Boult, still only 23, emerged as Southee’s new-ball partner and, by the end of the year, his Test record stood at 26 wickets from eight matches.
Bowling coach Damien Wright resigned for family reasons during the India tour, but the pace prospects looked good. Bracewell performed excellently on occasion; Gillespie took two five-fors against South Africa on his Test comeback; Pretoria-born Neil Wagner, the leading Plunket Shield wicket-taker, qualified for New Zealand through residency; and fellow left-armer Mitchell McClenaghan showed zest in December’s Twenty20 series defeat by South Africa. At 38, Chris Martin’s international days look numbered, despite passing Chris Cairns as the country’s third-highest Test wicket-taker.
The man just above him in the list, Daniel Vettori, was hampered by injury, and played only five Tests in 2012. He returned at the World Twenty20, before hobbling away for surgery on his hernia and Achilles tendon. A long-term spin-bowling successor in Test cricket is yet to be found.
The sport’s administration had an undulating year. Former Test opener David White became NZC chief executive in December 2011, and relocated the support services (including commercial and marketing) from Christchurch to Auckland. In November, the board reported a better-than-budgeted deficit of $NZ1.87m, thanks mainly to an eight-year deal with Pitch International to sell overseas media rights for home matches.
However, building a market share in the United States through a proposed Twenty20 league (NZC were a shareholder in Cricket Holdings America) remained problematic. Potential franchisees claimed the market justified little more than 10% of the $US40m per franchise put forward by NZC.
PAKISTAN CRICKET, 2012
The placebo effect
OSMAN SAMIUDDIN
No death. No corruption scandal. No players banned. No players jailed. No ball-tampering uproar. No terror attack. No captaincy palaver. No bust-ups with the ICC. No major player disputes. No major administrative overhaul. No major catfight with another board. No Ijaz Butt. Could this really have been a year belonging to Pakistan?
For the first time since 2005, their cricket seemed to be at peace with itself. The year wasn’t without issues, but it sure felt as if it had emerged from a long, dark tunnel in which Pakistan had seemed content just to be, to play, to survive, to move on. In short, it felt cathartic.
Unsurprisingly for those who see a correlation between stable administration and on-field results – nearly everyone else, in other words – Pakistan began the year with their most significant victory since 2005-06. Then, they had beaten an England side fresh from victory in one of the great modern Test series. In 2012, they beat England as Test cricket’s top-ranked nation. In fact, they whitewashed them, at their surrogate home in the UAE, though in typically Pakistani fashion: a series won 3–0 could conceivably have been lost 2–1.
But it was fully deserved, a wondrous, fantastical performance and fitting reward for captain Misbah-ul-Haq in particular. Too bland, dull and colourless for many Pakistani tastes, he had calmly moulded players of a similar outlook and made them into a robust team. Saeed Ajmal was confirmed as the best spinner in world cricket, and Azhar Ali – who twice scored 157 – was a class act at first drop.
It was all the more reason to lament what followed. At the time, there were two ways of looking at the win against England: as the last, unexpected hurrah of a fine side; or as the beginning of a new and promising age. It soon became clear it was more likely to be the former. A crucial administrative gaffe had been made over previous years when, in negotiating Future Tours Programme commitments, the Pakistan Cricket Board came up with a 2012 schedule almost devoid of Tests.
After England, Pakistan played only one more Test series, in Sri Lanka – and that, too, nearly five months later. They lost. And then there was nothing, until a series in South Africa in February 2013. Other than 2008, when they famously played no Tests at all, their tally of six Tests was their fewest in a year since 2001. This was an old side at their core, and their tightness was bound to unwind through time and inactivity.
Predictably, they managed many more limited-overs contests, though results were far sketchier. Pakistan lost each of the three bilateral one-day series played entirely in 2012, though they won memorably in India, in a series that spilled into 2013, and lifted the Asia Cup for the first time in four attempts. And they were impressive at the World Twenty20, losing in the last four to hosts Sri Lanka. It was their sixth successive ICC tournament semi-final, a handy statistic, but not far from choking territory: they had won only one of those six tournaments. By this point, Misbah – who turned 38 in May – had already ceded Twenty20 leadership duties to Mohammad Hafeez; it was assumed he would do the same in 50-over cricket some time
in 2013.
Off the field, it was tempting to see an Ijaz Butt-free year as a triumph. But in reality, any assessment of Zaka Ashraf, his successor as PCB chairman, required greater nuance. A battle-scarred former board official struck the right mood in likening Ashraf to homeopathic medicine: “You’re not sure whether he’s done any good or bad, or anything at all. He’s like a placebo.”
Prime among his gains would appear to be the partial resumption of ties with India. When Pakistan toured there at the end of the year to play two Twenty20s and three one-day internationals, it was the first bilateral engagement between the two in five cold years scarred by the Mumbai terror attacks. It was a real breakthrough, too, given the financial benefits of playing India. But how much was it Ashraf’s doing, and how much simply part of a broader thaw between the two countries, compelled by politicians upon the BCCI in particular?
The much-discussed return of international cricket to Pakistan produced fewer results, though again there was little Ashraf could do. He got close with Bangladesh, only to be burned twice. The fault lay with the duplicitous approach of Bangladesh officials, not with the final decision or Ashraf’s intent.
But when an international XI of retired, cast-off and Associate cricketers travelled to Karachi for two Twenty20s in October, it seemed like a minor triumph – except that the matches were the work of Dr Mohammad Ali Shah, a cricket-mad surgeon, patron and provincial sports minister. The PCB refused to sanction them. But they did allow use of the National Stadium and, once the matches passed by without incident and with huge, throbbing crowds, they pretended they’d been involved. That tour was preceded by six months by the visit of a British Universities side to Lahore (featuring several players of Pakistani descent), but they came without the blessing of either the ECB or MCC.