The Randiv episode

Cricket, particularly in the sub-continent, is so dreary these days that is has fallen on controversies to generate some excitement. The game got its injection of controversy this week, when Sri Lankan offie, Suraj Randiv, deliberately overstepped the line in a one-day international to seal India’s comfortable victory, while denying Sehwag, then batting on 99, a century. This understandably stirred up passions in the cricketing world. Most have denounced Randiv’s action as unsporting and against the spirit of the game. The act seems pretty indefensible, and one feels sorry for the likeable Sangakkara, who had to come up with something weak like “Sri Lanka does not have sole proprietorship over such incidents.” The last I read in the newspapers, Randiv and Dilshan (apparently his partner-in-crime) had been handed down some penalties by the ICC referee.

On the scale of unsportsmanlike behaviour, Randiv’s act is hardly the worst that has been seen in cricket. As far as cheating goes, it is certainly not worse than a batsman knowing he has nicked the ball, but hanging on to the crease if the umpire has not given him out. Randiv did not intend for his act to alter the course of the match – if anything, it hastened an already inevitable result. Hardly any team in cricket can claim the moral high ground, because at some point or the other, they have all been guilty of bending the rules.

The remarkable aspect of the Randiv episode is the thinking behind the act. In general, unsportsmanlike behaviour such as cheating, delaying tactics, sledging, etc is aimed at winning matches, or at least at avoiding defeat. To indulge in unsporting behaviour to win or save a match is bad enough, but understandable. To indulge in unsporting behaviour to actually accelerate one’s own defeat is bizarre. For an attacking bowler, each delivery is a potential wicket taker. Randiv apparently does not have this confidence in his own ability. So having abandoned all hope of getting Sehwag out, he chose to become the architect of his own team’s moment of defeat! In that moment, Randiv’s surrender to Sehwag’s superiority was absolute. He effectively said, “Look, I know I don’t have a one in a million chance of getting you out, so I won’t even try. But I will give myself the small pleasure of denying you yet another century.”

If I were Randiv’s coach/captain/mentor, I would be pretty worried about this mentality. It is an old cricketing cliché that “the game isn’t won or lost until the last ball is bowled”. Randiv and his masters clearly think that’s a load of crap.