There comes a point when a Rohit Sharma test innings starts to look like Rohit Sharma’s test career: rich in promise, with little substance. Exclusive Sharma Test entries look out of this world when they start. It is an exciting, even ethereal sensation, as if something special or significant is about to happen. So, incomprehensibly, he plans to self-destruct. There is no better word to describe it – neither indiscretion, error of judgment or even brain fade.
Some of the shots he rehearsed at Gabba on Saturday left the audience speechless once again. In its splendid beauty. The stroke he gave also left the audience speechless. In its splendid banality. It was Sharma’s best appearance in this series, but it was also the worst.
Until the 73rd ball of his 44, he was hitting like a dream. Expressive, efficient and elegant. Every minuscule element of your streak – judgment, strike selection, reflexes, response, foot movement – synchronized to produce a delicious melody. Before reaching a falsetto note that destroyed the building’s crescendo.
Banal expression
Finding a reason, or rhyme, for the stroke is a pointless exercise. His own explanations were as follows: “I like to put pressure on the pitcher when I’m inside and that’s my role on this team, to keep putting pressure on the pitchers. Scoring points has been a little difficult for both teams, so someone needs to raise their hand and think about how to put pressure on the pitchers. “
In embracing such an approach, Sharma resigned himself to the risk it entailed. “In doing so, there is a chance to make mistakes, but you must be ready to accept that. It was a plan, so I don’t regret playing that shot, ”he said.
But wait, isn’t it a five-day game? The first entries, when he had already fought enough to take the initiative from the players. Now was the time to fight.
How did this happen
Instead, he jumped from the crease to Nathan Lyon. For no reason. There were no irregularities or cracks anywhere in its vicinity to demand such an answer. The ball was not spinning or bouncing awkwardly. Lyon was not throwing the ball in flight or making it float. So tasteless was the Australian off-spinner that Cheteshwar Pujara pressed him for singles without fuss. Sharma himself cut him to a limit in the same region. Maybe he wanted to upset Lyon before he got into the rhythm. Maybe it was just a dopamine injection. Perhaps it was a feeling of infallibility. Maybe it was just your ego. Sharma likes to dictate matters and does not like to be sent. But afraid to take orders, he invited self-destruction.
Having jumped out of the crease, he was unable to catch the ball. Okay, your wonderful hands can still propel the ball into Gabba’s trademark confetti seats. But with the trajectory of the ball towards the side of the leg, he was unable to release his arms. Could he have changed the coup and tried to defend himself? It would have seemed domesticated, but he could have protected his wicket. Even if he had lost the ball, it would have hit his body. It was flat and well defined. But Sharma is not someone who steps back from a challenge.
Perhaps he was so deluded by his own sublime touch that he thought he could obtain adequate connection and elevation to deceive the defenders lurking in the middle of the wicket and in the middle, an extension vast enough for Marnus Labuschagne to run a four-way race on Friday . He also dismissed the well-known convention of closing the store before a break. The tea break was close, and the dark, billowing clouds were not far from destroying themselves.
Repent at will
If it weren’t for that scene, Sharma could have a quieter cup of tea or sleep more deeply. Instead, he laments and laments the momentary lapse, the destruction entirely of his own design. He was equally indifferent to the delicate balance of the match, as well as the series. It happened just as Australian players were getting a little anxious and restless. His most elaborate plans seemed to reach a dead end, and his best player, Pat Cummins, was being systematically disarmed by Sharma. Two verified strokes – one by Cummins and Cameron Green – were the most graceful strokes anyone has ever seen on a cricket pitch. Just a slight twist of the wrists in the micro-second the ball touches the blade. Each tendon not flexed, the impact almost silent. Sharma always makes hitting look easy, but never so easy.
So going out for a horrendous blow confuses you as much as it confuses your head. This even made his pull shot in the second round in Sydney seem more excusable, even worthy. At least, it was an instinctive blow, he found a decent connection and it was just unfortunate that he strayed to the lone thief in the deep square leg. What is more frustrating than a technical flaw – all batsmen at some point in time have to resolve one flaw or another, or a mental vulnerability – is a batsman wrapping his wicket. Wasting talent is inexcusable than having no talent. Not once or twice in his career, but repeatedly, as if he can no longer take the damage of a bowler. Sharma seems to be saying to the pitcher, ‘Chief, I can choose my own firing weapon, you don’t have to worry.’
It is not the first time
But Sharma’s expeditions abroad are quickly becoming an endless coil of these self-destructive moments. When he was the lord of his own destiny, but humbly yielded to the blessing. Maybe it’s the difference between a batsman who plays great and a batsman who is great. It is clearly the difference between Sharma and Virat Kohli. The power of discretion, the awareness not only of the game itself, but of the situation, and in addition the insatiable thirst for making great runs. Not just impulse and desire, but the absolute determination that distinguishes mortals from immortals. The knowledge that you can play a certain shot and the wisdom that it is not necessary to play that shot at a certain time in the game, against a specific player.
Great Test careers are not only based on the strokes that someone can play, but also on those that don’t play. There are times when even percentage shots should be avoided. Like Kohli suppressing his own and not trying to disguise James Anderson in Birmingham; or like Sachin Tendulkar during his epic about selflessness in Sydney, 241 did not come out. The shot Sharma chose to die was not even her basic shot. It looks like a dead ghost in retrospect.
In addition, Sharma is no longer a talented young man in his 20s who could have enough time. He is 33 years old, played 33 tests, an excellent captain with the white ball, winner of several titles in the Indian Premier League, an excellent captain too. A cricketer for ideas, strikes, but not performed at the highest level. It is an elegiac tendency of his career, but an elegy almost entirely of his own composition.