| |
SPORTS:
CRICKET
Wright
Stuff
Fresh
focus, a sound work ethic and techno-support-the Indian cricket's first
foreign coach brings something new to his team's table opening stand
By
Sharda
Ugra
 "I
understand the role cricket plays in Indian lives. It's a huge responsibility
and there'll be expectations. All I ask for is a fair chance."
JOHN
WRIGHT
If
John Wright said "boo" to a goose, there's a good chance the
goose would turn around and ask, "Sorry, what was that again?"
Surrounded by an omnipresent media scrum, the first overseas coach of
the Indian cricket team is constantly being asked to speak up. The 46-year-old
New Zealander, who claims he comes to Indian cricket with no magic formulas,
goes on to produce an astonishing trick: he keeps talking, never raising
his voice, and gradually the pack falls silent and listens. If, over the
next year, Wright can do the same with the Indian team-cut out the deafening
level of hype that surrounds it and have the players pay attention-his
could turn out to be an inspired appointment.
Wright's
first weeks on the job centred on the low-voltage series against Zimbabwe,
but it would have given him a fair taste not just of the pickle his team
is in at the moment but the entire smorgasbord of Indian cricket. It began
with a pile of the team's laundry landing in his hotel room before the
Delhi Test (it is the rare privilege of the Indian coach to distribute
the laundry and sometimes even make tea) and ended with Saurav Ganguly
throwing himself headlong into a confrontation with selectors and curators.
Wright turned down the honour of distributing the clothes and stood by
his captain.
It is the
working relationship between these two left-handers-the whimsical Calcuttan
with ambition coursing through his veins and talent to burn, and the big
opening bat from Canterbury whose mellow manner hides a career built on
hard graft-that will decide where the Indian team will go. Ganguly may
not dish out praise for the coach in public, but he was one of the senior
players who went to the cricket board to ask for an overseas coach.
The rationale
was that the foreign coach would bring not just specialised knowledge
to the job-the seniors told the board the random approach of Indian incumbents
was far behind international trends-but would come to India with the necessary
distance from cricket politics and its pecking order. Wright has spent
four years coaching Kent and does not want the spotlight. The captain,
he says, remains the Main Man. "At the end of the day, the captain
runs the team and the players are responsible for what happens on the
field. They have to be honest to themselves, to the team and to India.
My job is in the background, it is to help them prepare."
Prepare
is a nice, neat word for the untidy heap at Ganguly and Wright's feet.
This may be a season of starting over, but it is not about rosy dawns.
It's more like waking up with a hangover and staring at a stack of dirty
dishes in the sink. Bookies have corroded the bulk of the squad's experience,
excessive pyjama cricket has left Javagal Srinath holding body and soul
together on willpower and sent Anil Kumble into hibernation with a shoulder
worn by overuse. Constant juggling of the batting order has produced seven
different opening pairs for India in Tests in the past two years and match-winning
spinners are now rarer than fresh air in Delhi. And finally, two months
from now, with 12 straight Test wins under their belt, the Australians
are coming looking for the only territory they have never taken.
 No
More Mr Nice Guy: Suddenly, given the high profile nature of the job
and the constant spotlight on the team, the new coach's salary-approximately
Rs 40 lakh or the annual match fee of the seniormost Indian player-doesn't
seem enough for all the heartburn it may involve. Wright says, "I
understand the role cricket plays in Indian lives ... I know it is a huge
responsibility and that there will be expectations. All I ask for is a
fair chance." Mild words from a man considered to be-take your pick-"too
soft", "too nice" and "too gentle" for the job.
Believe that and perish. Two days into the Delhi Test, Wright walked into
the dressing room and asked those lounging around to go outside and cheer
S.S. Das, on his way to his first Test 50. On the third evening in Nagpur,
after an indifferent performance in the field, he gave the team an earful.
No more Mr Nice Guy. Says a player: "It was a good talk. He told
us what we needed to do, what we should try the next day, rather than
just yelling. He was not talking crap, he was talking sense. Sure he knows
how to crack the whip. He also knows how to give you credit for doing
something well." Another player says, "Team meetings are more
constructive now."
Wright's
arrival will put into motion the attempt to use computer technology in
the Indian team's training. A software program which monitors every match
played by the Indians using simultaneous video and data feed will be officially
launched this week. Pace bowler Javagal Srinath helped set its cricketing
parameters. The footage and computer is only the raw stock-what the players
and their coach make of it is where the wheels will begin to turn. It
is here that Wright's experience and expertise with the technology will
count.
The new
coach has already targeted key areas: finding the right close catchers,
overall fielding and a sharpening of the spin attack. "If you play
on good tracks, as we did in Nagpur," he said, "the combined
effort of fielding and bowling is critical to create pressure in situations
where you need wickets. The challenge is to get the fielding and bowling
up to the standard of the batting. That may take a little time."
At the moment, time is at a premium for Wright, whose contract initially
runs for a year.
Team trainer
Andrew Leipus, an Aussie who has worked with the Indians for a little
over 12 months, says, "It takes about a year to settle in a job like
this. That's how long it took me." Leipus and Wright have introduced
a one-two punch: Leipus sets the fitness standards and Wright sets the
fines for failure. When the players scatter for a six-week break after
the Zimbabwe series, they will be given a list of recommended workouts
to maintain fitness standards. In late January, Leipus will test them
again; should they fail to meet the minimum standard, Wright will collect
a fine of Rs 40,000 per player. No, that's not an extra zero there. The
money will be used to buy equipment for the squad and the rest will be
given to charity.
Before coming
to India, Wright did his homework: he read a brick-sized history of Indian
cricket and talked to Australian Bob Simpson, who had served as consultant
with the Indian team during the 1999 World Cup. It should have scared
off the bravest of men. But the temptation of coaching a side totally
unlike the hardy triers he had played for (New Zealand and Derbyshire)
kept Wright interested. Now he's trying to learn Hindi, talks to cricketers
he had played against when he opened for and led his country, follows
domestic cricket scores in the papers and sits in at selection committee
meetings. He will not say what he makes of the meetings but when asked
what had surprised him most about the team (apart from the fact that "their
jogging is too slow!") said it was their willingness to learn. "We
need to get better but the boys are keen and eager to know more. They
want to discuss their cricket, talk about it and find out as much as they
can. It is very refreshing."
Wright being
the first foreign coach of the Indian team is no big deal. Being foreign
is not a job. Don't make a fuss about his passport, make a fuss about
his professionalism.
Top
|
|
Enron
symbolises everything that's wrong with the way reforms were handled by
M/s Rao & Manmohan, says INDIA TODAY Associate Editor
