Disappointed with my spinners: Dhoni

Captain Dhoni, who had demanded a turning track, was sheepish after the defeat, admitting he was disappointed with his tweakers.

Captain Dhoni, who had demanded a turning track, was sheepish after the defeat, admitting he was disappointed with his tweakers.

Instead, England's Monty Panesar and Graeme Swann made the Indian batsmen, supposedly experts at playing spin, dance to his tune. On the other hand, Kevin Pietersen and Alastair Cookproved their class with hundreds on a track that where the Indians faltered.

"Definitely outplayed. Monty bowled really well. All get turn  but the pace he bowled at made sure that the batsmen were on the front foot. To some extent, yes I am disappointed with our spinners. We let England bat on the back foot. We could have brought them forward," a disappointed Dhoni said.

Dhoni had lambasted the pitch in Ahmedabad and today said his bowlers could not get a hold here. "All of a sudden they have to change their plan. Ahmedabad was completely different and it was a change of conditions," he said.

Dhoni said the next two Tests, starting with the game in Kolkata on December 5, would be a test of character for his team. "When two best sides are playing, series are close. It will be a test of character in the two coming games," he said.

Dhoni's rival number Alastair Cook said he has all but forgotten the disappointment of losing the toss. "Without a doubt, it is a great win. I can't fault the effort of the lads. I could have called heads and obviously it was an important toss. The way we bowled on that first day it was fantastic," said Cook.

Du Plessis pulls off South Africa's great escape

The Test debutant made a hundred as the Proteas batted all day in Adelaide to prevent defeat.

Faf du Plessis (R) celebrates the draw while Peter Siddle expresses disappointment.

Adelaide: Debutant Faf du Plessis batted throughout the final day for a defiant unbeaten century to guide South Africa to a thrilling draw against Australia in the second Adelaide Test on Monday.

Man-of-the-match du Plessis occupied the crease for almost eight hours in a feat of physical and mental endurance to ensure the Proteas avoided defeat and take the three-Test series to a decider starting in Perth on Friday.

Australia must win the series to take the world number one ranking from South Africa.


In a gripping finish, lion-hearted fast bowler Peter Siddle had Dale Steyn caught at mid-wicket for a duck and then bowled Rory Kleinveldt (3) with a yorker deep inside the final hour of play.

Siddle gave everything in the final over of the Test in search of the last two wickets butMorne Morkel held on.

It was the second time the South Africans had batted out for a draw in the series after denying Australia's unlikely victory push in the Brisbane opener earlier this month.

At stumps Du Plessis, who needed physio treatment for cramps late in the day, was unconquered on 110 with Morkel not out eight in South Africa's 248 for eight.

Du Plessis, who scored 78 in the first innings, reached his dogged century in his maiden Test with a cover drive for two off Ben Hilfenhaus in the hour after tea.

He was at the crease for 464 minutes and faced 376 balls in his draining knock. He survived two reviews after being given out by umpire Billy Bowden and was dropped by wicketkeeper Matthew Wade on 94.

Du Plessis had his life on the penultimate ball before tea when Wade failed to hold a tough chance while standing up to the stumps to paceman Hilfenhaus.

He was also given out on 33 when he padded up and did not offer a shot to Michael Clarke's spin. But he stayed put after a review found the ball had pitched just outside the line.

Du Plessis was given out again by umpire Bowden after an lbw appeal by Clarke on 37, but another review showed there was no contact with the pad and the debutant batted on.

The allrounder's joy at reaching his milestone was tempered by the loss of the injury-restricted Kallis five balls later.

Kallis was caught off bat and pad at short leg by Ed Cowan off Nathan Lyon for 46 to end a gritty 99-run stand in 149 minutes with du Plessis.

The champion allrounder had been dropped by Lyon in a leaping caught and bowled chance on six. He played an invaluable knock even though restricted in his mobility by a hamstring injury.

The Proteas lost the wicket of AB de Villiers shortly after lunch when he was bowled by Peter Siddle for 33 with one that nipped back to clip off-stump.

Wicketkeeper de Villiers faced 220 balls in his stoic boundary-less knock in a study of concentration, putting on 89 runs for the fifth wicket with du Plessis in 68 overs.

The Proteas gave no thought to chasing down a huge and unlikely victory target of 430, scoring just 135 runs on the final day off 67 overs up to tea.

The most successful fourth-innings run chase at the Adelaide Oval stands at  the 315-6 Australia scored 110 years ago to overhaul England. The record overall winning chase is 418 by the West Indies against Australia in 2003.

Govt. convenes all-party meet on FDI in retail today

 The Congress-led UPA Government has convened an all-party meeting here today to discuss the deadlock in Parliament over Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) in multi-brand retail.

Parliamentary Affairs Minister Kamal Nath has convened today's meeting, which is scheduled to take place at around 1 p.m. This meeting comes at a time when the first two days of the Winter Session last week saw Parliament being paralysed on the issue.

The Left and the Right have so far remained adamant on discussion under a rule that entails voting under Rule 184.

The Centre has, however, said that it will not force the DMK or any other state government on implementation of FDI in the retail sector.

According to reports, the DMK, which is the second-largest party in the UPA after the Congress, is worried that favouring it even tacitly would affect its vote bank.

The DMK adds 18 Lok Sabha MPs to the ruling government.

Mumbai four years since the 26/11 attacks

 The tiers of security were virtually non-existent when Mohammed Ajmal Amir Kasab and nine other Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) terrorists hijacked MV Kuber to carry out the 26/11 Mumbai terror attack in 2008.

However, four years later, security around Mumbai has transformed, said senior police officials. A 24x7 all-weather coastal surveillance project - an integrated network of radars, day and night electro-optical equipment, Automated Identification System (AIS) and meteorological equipment monitored by the Indian Coast Guards -now ensures visuals of even a human body within 20 nautical miles off the coast. The World War II weapons such as the .303 rifle is now a weapon of the past. Today, the Mumbai police is a more well- armed unit.

The force is now equipped with M 4 Colt 5.56 Carbines, Heckler and Koch MP 5's, Brugger and Thomet MP 9's, Smith and Wesson MP 9mm pistol and M-82 Special Applications Rifle. Apart from the bulletproof vehicles it procured post 26/11, the Mumbai police also floated tenders to procure bulletproof tyres and aerial reconnaissance vehicle, added officials.

Rakesh Maria, additional director general, Anti-Terrorism Squad said, "We were at a disadvantage when the 26/11 terror attackhappened. However, today we are prepared for the worst possible scenario."

While the realisation of a National Security Guard (NSG) hub in Mumbai has given the city a near three-tier security arrangement, the state's own commando force - Force 1- has been propped up to ensure it has adequate skill and fire power to deal as the first line of force in times of contingency.

The Indian coast guard too has augmented its force levels. Apart from opening coast guard stations at Dahanu, Ratnagiri and Murud-Janjira, it has planned to operate 42 coast guard stations across the country's 7500 kilometre-long coastline.

"We had 22 coast guard stations across the country in 2008; 10 more stations have now been added and we plan to add 10 more by the end of next year," said a coast guard official requesting anonymity.

The force plans to have 120 vessels and wants to operate 60 aircrafts by 2013. SPS Basra, inspector general, coast guard (Western region) said: "We have planned a step-by-step progression to ensure the coastline is safe."

Published by HT Syndication with permission from Hindustan Times.

Learn more close The persona behind the legend that is "Tendulkar" .

Mumbai: Two days before the beginning of the Mumbai Test, Sachin Tendulkar is at a promotional event for the luxury watch brand, Audemars Piguet, for which he is the global brand ambassador. He – or his media manager’s publicist’s advisor – has granted Hindustan Times a 20-minute interview, 'exclusive and one-on-one'. The condition: you can’t ask him anything about cricket.

As our car threads its way through evening traffic towards the Taj Mahal Palace and Towers in Colaba, this is the conundrum I am faced with: how do I write about someone I admire without talking about the thing I admire him for? How does one talk about lifestyle while leaving out the life?I have seen Tendulkar in non-cricket gear on one previous occasion. This was at a restaurant at the Taj Land’s End.

He was watching, absorbed, Shane Warne bowling in an Ashes series in England. It was the summer of 2005. I had that evening spent a good deal of time watching Tendulkar watch Warne. It was riveting.

Full of life
And now here he is, in a crisp, white shirt, black trousers, designer black shoes (of which more later), and an India blazer (the BCCI is hosting an awards ceremony downstairs, and he will have to be on stage to accept the first award of the night for his hundred international centuries). 

He has also emerged – unscathed – from a minor sartorial misadventure: two buttons on his jacket broke, and have just been stitched back on.

There is something about people who have been made larger than life on TV – or, in Tendulkar’s case, a larger than life personality made larger still - there is something different about these people, when you meet them in person, not in work clothes.

He looks compact, the long hair that he had for a change having given way to the familiar close-cropped curls.

His handshake is firm but fleeting. We are sitting facing each other on two chairs that have been pulled aside from the tables being set for dinner.

He sits hunched forward, hands clasped in front of him. He speaks very softly, so that I have to lean even further forward to hear what he is saying.

His face is mobile, and expressive. There emanates from him, even in this relaxed setting, a sort of charge, a kind of hyperactive intensity.

Tendulkar was the first sporting hero I had who was younger than me. I first saw him play when he was 16, and I was 20.

For the first time in my life, I was in awe of someone I was older than. When I tell him how life-altering something such as this can be at the age of 20, he smiles (lips twitching and turning up, face getting all creased up); he seems genuinely pleased, almost bashful.

“It is very kind of you to say that.” And I think of the inner child in him, the one that still wants to bat and bat.

Friendly figure
Wary that I am straying into cricket talk, I ask him instead which of his cars he enjoys driving the most.

“The BMW5. It is sporty and comfortable. It is a magnificent car. I go for a spin in it very early in the morning – 3am, 4am.”

His son, Arjun, is around, and I wonder if Sachin thinks Arjun is a better player than Sachin was at his age.

“I don’t like comparisons. Every individual has his own identity. What he wants to be is his choice. People should judge him on merit.”

It must be hard, travelling all the time, being away from one’s children. “Yes, it is very tough. That is why my wife – who is a gold medallist in medicine – gave up her career. It would have been impossible if both of us had been away.”

What sort of a father is he? What sort of a father would he ideally like to be? “I would like to be a friend who is always there to guide them. I would like to be the person to whom they can come and talk to about anything they want.”

Then there is a pause. Without any prompting, Tendulkar says: “I would like to emulate my father in this respect. I miss him very much. All this I have now, and he is not there to see any of it. Not having him is the only void in my life.”

His face crumples a bit, and I think of that century against Kenya in the 1999 World Cup, the one he scored after returning from his father’s cremation, as moving and authentic a filial tribute as one has ever seen.

It seems appropriate to talk about happier things. So I ask him what he enjoys spending money on.

“I love food, shoes, cars, perfumes.” The perfume he is wearing at the moment is Comme des Garcons (thanks to Wikipedia, I know that it is a Japanese label that introduced in 1998 the “anti-perfume Odeur53, a blend of 53 non-traditional notes to create a modern and striking scent”).

The shoes are Berluti (again, Wiki tells me that it is a French “company that manufactures and retails a very exclusive luxury brand of shoes and boots solely for men”).

Down to earth
As he talks, images of him lighting up cricket grounds all over the world swirl and roil inside my head: Bloemfontein; Sharjah; Perth; Chennai; Old Trafford, Sydney… And I chance my luck, and get started on the cricket. Not a lot of it, just a bit. 

“No, let’s talk about cricket. I love talking about cricket. It is all I have ever done – talk about cricket and play cricket – all my life.”

Seeing him, his body language, his tone, his courteousness, I am reminded again of why the Tendulkar phenomenon is actually what it is.

He is a world-beater, a global citizen; he is smart, well dressed, he drives sexy cars; a self-made man, he is staggeringly wealthy; he is Indian cricket’s first global brand.

At the same time, he appears to exemplify certain cherished Indian values: humility, deference to elders, and respect for all things that ought to command respect. With Tendulkar, we can have it both ways, and we are delighted about that.

Tendulkar has achieved in the game what no one ever has, or is ever likely to. But contentment is an elusive thing, especially in the case of someone as ambitious and gifted as he is. Has he found it?

“I am happy. I pray to god that I can always value and respect whatever has come my way. My family’s influence in all this is crucial. At no stage has my family got carried away with anything. Whenever anything good happens in life, we offer sweets to god.”

Tough times
But in an international career spanning 23 years, the going can never be all good. “No, not at all. The darkest period in my life was when I was undergoing treatment for my tennis elbow in 2004 and the surgeries to do with it. It was unbelievably painful. It is the most that I have ever endured. I asked my wife to record some of that on a camera. I could not sleep at night. I thought that my career was over.”

It wasn’t over, of course. It still isn’t. And while the injury may have been the most painful thing Tendulkar has ever endured, there is something else that terrifies him. “I am scared of natural calamities. Earthquakes, tsunamis, you know, that sort of thing.”

He looks at his fancy watch. He does not fidget. But I know that my time is up. So I make to wind up. “I have to go downstairs,” he says. “I am sorry.” And with a nod and a wink, he melts away.

Martin Amis writes in one of his essays that when a writer goes to interview a person he admires, he is constantly hoping for one of three things to happen: a full-scale nervous breakdown of the interviewee in the middle of the conversation; or some scandalous, never-heard-before sort of revelation; or the tentative beginning of a friendship.

Given that the interviewee in this instance was one of the world's most private men, I knew that the likelihood of anything remotely resembling those things was less than zero.

Only this happens. When I wake up the following morning, I see that I have missed a phone call from an unlisted number. A couple of hours later, I get another call - again, an unlisted number.

“Hi, Soumya,” the familiar voice at the other end of the line says. “This is Sachin.”

Captaining was easier in the days gone by: Gavaskar

Calcutta: Former India captain Sunil Manohar Gavaskar, a living legend, spoke to The Telegraph (from Mumbai) on Tuesday afternoon, on the eve of getting the highest award from the Board of Control for Cricket in India, instituted in memory of the country’s first captain.

If anybody needs a reminder, Gavaskar, now 63, was the first to 10,000 runs in Test cricket and his record of 34 hundreds at the very highest level stood for years till Sachin Tendulkar got past him.

The following are excerpts from the one-on-one over the phone

Will Wednesday be just another day, or a special one?

It’s going to be special... The Col. C.K. Nayudu Lifetime Achievement Award is the biggest in Indian cricket and it’s an honour to be getting it.

But should you have got the award earlier?

That’s not for me to judge. I’m happy to be getting it.

Is there somebody you’ll remember more than the others when you get the trophy, the citation and the cheque for Rs 25 lakh?

You’ve got to wait for the answer.

[One can expect Gavaskar to make a special mention of his late father, Manohar, the late M.L. Jaisimha (his hero), and teammates such as Dilip Sardesai and Eknath Solkar, who are also no more.]

Do you intend turning up in an India blazer and tie?

(Laughs) Haven’t decided... I do have some of my India blazers, but they’re at my parents’ house in Pune.

What made you the batsman you were? Talent, dedication, perhaps some luck...

A combination, really... More determination and dedication, perhaps... One can be talented, but the temperament must also be there.

Is temperament, then, the No.1 quality to possess?

Pretty much so. You may not be that talented, but if you have the temperament, then you could still make it. At the highest level, you need it.

On and off the field, you were supremely disciplined. Was it because of your upbringing?

The upbringing, yes... Then, the teams I played for had discipline as their centre point.

Is there a long list of don’ts for batsmen?

I’m not sure about the don’ts, but I was guided by the three D’s — discipline, determination, dedication. Whatever the field, not only cricket, you need all three to succeed.

Were there times when you’d be nervous?

I used to be most nervous on the eve of a series... It used to be a tough night... But being nervous does help one to concentrate better. So, you should be nervous (to a degree).

For all the big runs you scored, was there a bowler who made you work harder?

I respected all the bowlers, for each one of them tried to get me out... I can’t take one name.

What did 16 years of international cricket teach you? Did you grow as a person?

The exposure to different cultures widened my horizon... You pick up the good points... Even if it’s subconsciously, you try and add the good points to your way of life. The years of travelling definitely enriched my life.

You retired 25 years ago... What’s your assessment of the state of Indian cricket today?

It’s in better space... When I began in 1971, Indian cricket then was in better space than it was in 1947... It’s natural progression... Generally, the world is a better place as time moves on, for people learn from experience. Those who don’t, struggle.

Going forward, how can Indian cricket get better?

It’s not for one person to make a suggestion... You need several heads to sit down and chalk out a vision. Indian cricket, I’m sure, will go forward.

You’ve often made the point that the India cap must be earned. Has it come easy to a few in the past 25 years?

That’s subjective, you know... I may think it has come easy, but the player in question could have an X number of reasons for getting to play for India. So...

How important is it for a captain to also be a visionary — to look well ahead, not just at the very next Test or the next series?

Provided he’s appointed captain for a year or two.

Would you favour a long-term appointment?

Form and fitness permitting. The selectors have been retaining (Mahendra Singh) Dhoni season by season without a meeting being called specifically for that.

Do captains have a shelf life?

Depends on the stress they can take. It’s best if a captain gets the job after four-five years of international cricket. He could then be in that position for seven-eight years. For me, it’s not so much about a shelf life.

Can captaincy become a burden, affect the individual’s own performance?

Well, as captain, you become aware of the issues facing the other players and you’ve got to think about them as opposed to thinking only about your game. A captain’s focus gets wider.

It’s a learning process...

It is.

With so many in the support staff now, was it actually easier captaining in your time?

I do think it was easier in the days gone by... Today, with the head coach and the specialist coaches saying so many things, a captain may take decisions out of respect (for the coaches), rather than out of conviction.

You were the boss...

On the field, and I could be held accountable.

Should Dhoni’s load be lightened by giving the T20 captaincy to Virat Kohli?

Look, you have five people being paid substantially (at least Rs 60 lakh annually each) to take such decisions. It’s not for me to comment.

I suppose this ‘who is the greatest debate’ featuring you, Kapil Dev and Sachin will never end. But is it necessary?

It’s good for adda sessions... Good to have the debate there... But I know that the three of us respect each other and respect each other’s achievements. It wouldn’t matter who is placed where in the debate.

You have a massive following. How come you’ve never taken to politics?

Because to be a politician, you’ve got to have the experience from the grassroots level... Being a monitor or a head boy in school or having a position in college could give you an idea of what to expect... You can’t hope to be successful if you don’t have the experience. I don’t think you can just get into politics.

Weren’t you even a monitor?

(Laughs) Never, stayed far away from such positions.

The final one... Is there a regret?

Again, wait till Wednesday evening!

Cheteshwar Pujara - The worker ant

Some years ago I watched a day’s cricket at theWankhede Stadium in Mumbai. I have forgotten the year, the tournament, the teams and most of the players. I am guessing it must have been aMumbai-Saurashtra match but I could be wrong. Maybe it was a Duleep Trophy game. I am not sure. I can find out but that would defeat the purpose.

What I remember is Cheteshwar Pujara batting. I forget his score. I am sure it was fifty or a hundred - one ardent fan, a regular at the Wankhede (I think his name was Gaudalkar) ran onto the field to hug him. But I forget if Pujarawent on to a big score. I don’t remember how he got out, if he indeed did. 

What else do I remember. Hmm. I spent most of the day sitting in the stands above the Garware pavilion reading a book. Obviously I have forgotten which book. I can’t give you details of the weather but we can safely assume it was a hot day, that the air was viscous and that the sea breeze picked up after tea. That’s how it usually is at the Wankhede. 

It is highly likely that I might have dozed off at some stage of the day. Many domestic matches lull me into a happy slumber, especially in that delicate session after lunch. I wonder how the players stay awake, though it isn’t uncommon to see a third-man, fine-leg or deep backward square leg let out noticeable yawns. Watch these guys when you visit a stadium next.

I don’t remember any Pujara stroke from that day. No drive, punch or pull imprinted itself in my memory. At no point did I sit erect in my seat, eyes wide open, mouth agape. Not once did I go ‘ooofff’ or ‘aaawww’. There was no wind-up of the back-lift, no exaggerated follow-through. I don’t think he struck a six because a six in a first-class match, however inconsequential, is hard to forget. 

I don’t remember the ball screaming off his bat, neither do I recall a hammered ‘tock’ - a sound more detectable in eerie domestic fields than in raucous international ones. There was no discernible urgency between the stumps, no flurry of fours. At least that’s what my memory tells me.

I am dead certain that I didn’t watch every ball that Pujara faced. I don’t watch cricket that way. When alone at a cricket match I am usually engaged in a book or a newspaper (often it’s not the news or the editorials but the crossword puzzles and sudoku that keeps me occupied). When with a group, I am often more interested in the chatter - random observations about a section of the crowd, a stray comment about a player, a joke. Cricket is a wonderful backdrop; life goes on regardless. 

And that’s all I remember from that day. 

***

I’ve been thinking about this Pujara fellow. It’s taken me a while to warm up to him. He is not a batsman who takes instant flight, nor one who burrows with apparent effort. He doesn’t deal in stealth nor is he interested in pugnacity. 

Instead there is a wholesomeness about him. He is that guy in the opposition who is hardest to get out. In league cricket parlance, he may be called a ‘solid’ batsman, or more accurately a ‘ssssaaw-lid’ batsman. The longer the solid, the more attention one must pay. 

These fellows are impossible. Sledging them is useless; trying to get under their skin - as James Anderson tried when he bumped into Pujara in the third session of the first day - futile. You can’t irritate them out - they will leave deliveries outside off all day and all night, then they will flick a loose ball on leg for four. You can’t find any obvious weakness. Probe outside off at Ahmedabad, so be it; bounce at Mumbai, so be it. 

We’ve all seen these guys at various levels of cricket. They will defend impeccably over after over before tapping a single, wangling a two, and occasionally - shock! horror! - pinching a four. There is a serene industriousness about them, worker ants who ferry grains of rice. They will reach thirty before you have even started paying them any attention. Once they’re set they may - if the planets are properly aligned - offer you a chance. If you miss - as England did on the first day in Mumbai - you’re in trouble.

The history of Indian domestic cricket is littered with such batsmen, many of whom mastered the worker-ant method at the first-class level. However Pujara’s early success - and let’s remember he is only seven Tests old and yet to score big abroad - also represents a success for an oft-maligned system. 

Anyone who has even remotely followed the Indian domestic scene for the last five years would tell you that Cheteshwar Pujara can make runs. Rain wets, fire burns, Pujara scores. Simple. 

The question mark hovering over him was the one that has hovered over many prolific domestic run-machines: Can he translate his success to the higher level? Can he use the same ‘solid’ approach to conquer international bowlers? Does he have the temperament to make big scores against top quality opposition on challenging pitches? 

He has partly answered the question. The most refreshing aspect about this - which should gladden several batsmen around the country - is that he has managed this without trying anything fancy. He’s not grown wings, he’s not sharpened his claws, he’s not attached any scales.

Instead he’s done pretty much the same thing that turned him into a run-ogre at the first-class level. He has walked. Upright, measured and understated, he has taken one step, then another, one more step, and another. 

There is nothing dazzling about this. There is a reason walking - and I’m referring to the assured, steady variety - is not a spectator sport. But it’s solid. Very, very solid. And for a team on the cusp of a generational transition, that works just fine.