Mashrafe's leading light dimmed by three balls of darkness
In the third over of Bangladesh's chase, Hardik Pandya climbs high into
the night, at long-on, and snatches the ball flying overhead. In the
next few seconds, as the Chinnaswamy Stadium erupts around him, Pandya
appears to undergo a series of eruptions himself. His fists are
clenched, his lungs are emptied, his vocal chords are in a state of
almighty tremor. He advances towards his teammates in violent jerks and
pulses. He is riding an invisible rodeo bull.
It had been an outstanding catch in a tough situation, so maybe
exuberance is understandable. On many nights, this may even have been
the catch of the evening. Not on this one.
In India's innings, Sabbir Rahman had tracked a ball that would have
challenged any Bangalore skyscraper for height, then dived, and held the
ball cleanly. When he rose, there was a grimace on his face and slight
arrogance in his gait, but there was no wild gesticulating.
Ten overs later, Soumya Sarkar tore to his left from deep square leg,
dived full-length, 12 inches from the ground, and took in both hands one
of the catches of the tournament. He lay there on the grass and
grinned. His teammates paused, processed what had happened, then rushed
towards him, all grinning as well. These were moments lived out in the
sudden silence that had filled the stadium. It only made them sweeter.
This is not how all Bangladesh teams reacted to extraordinary catches.
In years past, put-on chest-thumping, aggressive flailing, and preening
celebrations had sometimes defined them.
Today, Shuvagata Hom didn't so much as bellow when he uprooted the
middle stump of the best limited-overs batsman around. There were no
contrived oohs and pained looks when Mustafizur Rahman beat the bat.
Tamim Iqbal still retains a little of his old prima donna avatar, acting
like he had taken a cruise missile to the chest when he had only
lightly bumped Ashish Nehra. But even he has become a more muted and
more effective version of himself.
For 237 balls, Bangladesh were defined by a deep and powerful, but
restrained brand of confidence. Coach Chandika Hathurusingha has been
among those leading this team to this new way - to this light. He is
not, though, the key man in the enlightenment.
****
With some quicks, there is almost as much pleasure to be had in their
approach to the crease as their actual deliveries. Trent Boult is one of
these.
His thighs seem a burden to him, he makes strides of varying lengths,
and occasionally appears as if he wants to pull up. Mashrafe gets
cortisone injections every year to dull the aches in his knees. Every
movement seems an effort. At times it seems like the man's disobedient
body is being dragged by the collar to the crease by his willpower. When
he bowled just one over against Australia, some wondered what he was
even doing in the team.
But to understand Mashrafe, to cut to what he really means to
Bangladesh, we must look some distance beyond the light spells, his
damaged joints, and even his sometimes odd field placements. To know
Mashrafe the captain, we must listen to the teammates who have made
Mashrafe's room their permanent haunt for joking, talking and fooling
around when there is nothing else to do. We must take note of those who
have publicly spoken of the strength Mashrafe's words have bestowed them
in lean times, both cricketing and personal. We must take stock of the
small seam-bowling revolution that has begun to take grip in a nation
traditionally known for spin. And so, we must conclude, that Mashrafe
would be worth his place in the side, even if a fielder had to carry him
to the bowling crease in a wheelbarrow.
For 237 balls, Mashrafe's team did justice to their captain's grace.
They abided by his vision. They did right by the man, whom three days
ago had been so personally affected by the suspension of Taskin Ahmed
that he had got choked up and, in private, asked a journalist: "What
kind of captain would I be if I can't stand beside the boy who will
serve my country for the next 10-15 years?"
****
Bangladesh made mistakes in their chase. Some batsmen were fortunate to
have catches dropped off them. One was unlucky to be stumped in the
fraction of a second his back foot was in the air. The men in form had
made runs, and those out of touch made the best of their situation, but
all were in the grip of that grim, recently-acquired determination.
And it seems fitting when Pandya is the man called upon to bowl the final over. He is virtually mobbed by supportive team-mates when he gets the ball in hand. There are whispers in his ear from Virat Kohli. Dhoni deals out instructions. Ashish Nehra gives advice. Through the course of his walk from long-on to the top of his bowling mark at the opposite end of the ground, Pandya has more arms around him than a 21st-century warlord.
This is all for very little, because in truth, he bowls a poor over. Mushfiqur Rahim is sublimely calm as he drills the second ball through cover. He showcases the wit that made him a former captain when he paddles the next ball past the wicketkeeper for a boundary.
Two runs needed from three balls. Bangladesh have the tournament favourites and their baying home fans by the throat. The World T20's biggest upset is at the tips of their fingers.
But this is the end of their 237 balls of glory. In the seconds after that shot is hit, something profound is lost. Mushfiqur gets in Pandya's face. He flails, he screams, he snarls, he pumps his arms.
In three balls, Bangladesh lose sight of the distance they have come. They forget the captain that has inspired them. In three balls, Bangladesh turn out the light.
