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There comes a time when a round of Rohit Sharma Test begins to resemble the career of Rohit Sharma Test: rich in promise, poor in substance. Sharma Test’s signature sleeve looks like another world when it starts. It sounds exciting, even ethereal, as if something special or meaningful is about to unfold. Then in an incomprehensible way, he manages to self-destruct. There is no better word to describe it – no indiscretion, error in judgment, or even brain discoloration.
Some of the punches he tried at Gabba on Saturday left the audience speechless once again. In their splendid beauty. The blow he released also left the audience speechless. In its splendid banality. It was the best Sharma had watched 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 tiny element of his staff – judgment, stroke selection, reflexes, response, foot movement – had synchronized to produce a delectable melody. Before hitting a falsetto note that destroyed the building crescendo.
Banal expression
Finding a reason or a rhyme for stroke is a futile exercise. His own explanation was: “I like to put pressure on the bowler once I’m there and it’s my role on this team to continue to pressure the bowlers. Scoring was a bit difficult for both teams so someone has to put their hand up and think about how to put pressure on the bowlers.
By adopting such an approach, Sharma was resigned to the risk it entailed. “In doing this there is a chance to make mistakes, but you have to be prepared to accept it. It was a plan, so I have no regrets that I played that shot, ”he said.
But wait, isn’t this a five-day game? The first innings, when he did enough to wrest the initiative from the bowlers. It was time to fall asleep.
How did it happen
Instead, he jumped off the field for Nathan Lyon. Without reason. There was no roar or crack in his vicinity to call for such a response. The ball was not spinning or bouncing awkwardly. Lyon did not fly the ball or cause it to drift. So tasteless was the Aussie off-spinner that Cheteshwar Pujara was grinding him for singles without fuss. Sharma himself had cut it for a border the same way. Maybe he wanted to destabilize Lyon, before getting into the rhythm. Maybe it was just a dopamine rush. Maybe it was a feeling of infallibility. Maybe it was just his ego. Sharma likes to dictate and doesn’t like to be dictated. But in fear of being dictated, he invited self-destruction.
Having jumped out of the field, he could not reach the field of the ball. Okay, his wonderful hands could still propel the ball into the confetti seats of the Gabba brand. But with the ball trajectory to the side of the leg, he couldn’t quite free his arms. Could he have changed the blow and sought to defend himself? It would have seemed tame, but he could have protected his wicket. Even if he had missed the ball, he would have touched his body. It was flat and tied to the body. But Sharma is not someone to walk away from a challenge.
Perhaps he was so deceived by his own sublime touch that he believed he could get adequate connection and elevation to escape the midfielders hidden in the wicket and midway, an expanse large enough for Marnus Labuschagne to accomplish. a four out of four. Friday. He also dismissed the well-worn convention of shutting down the workshop before an interval. Tea break was near, and the dark puffy clouds were not too far to fall.
Repent at your leisure
But for this photo, Sharma might be having a more peaceful cup of tea or a deeper sleep. Instead, he is gripped by sorrow and pine over momentary lapse, destroying entirely his own design. He was equally indifferent to the delicate balance of the game as well as the series. It came just as Aussie bowlers were getting a little anxious and agitated. Their best plans seemed to be heading for a dead end, and their top bowler, Pat Cummins, was systematically defused by Sharma. Two controlled workouts – one each from Cummins and Cameron Green – were the most graceful shots one could ever see on a cricket pitch. Just a slight swirl from the wrists to the microsecond the bullet hits the blade. Each tendon is not flexed, the impact almost silent. Sharma always makes the batter easy, but never so easy.
Then, going out trying to have a horrible stroke is as confusing as your head. It even made his draw in the second round in Sydney more excusable, if not dignified. At least it was an instinctive stroke, he found a decent connection and was just miserable that he ended up at the lonely, square-legged lonely loner. What’s more frustrating than a technical glitch – every batsman at some point has to grapple with one fault or the other, or mental vulnerability – is a batsman racing his wicket. To waste talent is inexcusable than having no talent. Not once or twice in his career, but several times, as if he couldn’t stand the injury of a bowler anymore. Sharma seems to be saying to the bowler, “Boss, I can choose my own dismissal weapon, you don’t need to worry.”
Not the first time
But Sharma’s overseas expeditions quickly become a never-ending reel of these self-destructive moments. When he was master of his own destiny, but humbly gave up the blessing. Maybe that’s the difference between a drummer who plays like a big guy and a drummer who is big. This is clearly the difference between Sharma and Virat Kohli. The power of discretion, the awareness not only of one’s own game but of the situation, and beyond the insatiable thirst for big points. Not just drive and desire, but the sheer determination that distinguishes mortals from immortals. The knowledge that one can play a particular stroke, and the wisdom that it is not necessary to play that stroke at a particular time in the game, against a particular bowler.
Great testing careers are not only built on the moves you can play, but also the ones you don’t. There are times when even the hit percentage should be avoided. Like Kohli suppressing his own and not trying to do recoveries against James Anderson in Birmingham; or like Sachin Tendulkar during his selfless epic in Sydney, 241 is not released. The cliché Sharma chose to perish wasn’t even her basic cliché. It looks like a ghost shot in hindsight.
Plus, Sharma is no longer a talented 20-year-old who could be given time. He is 33 years old, has played 33 tests, a great white ball captain and several Indian Premier League titles, a great captain too. A cricket of ideas, of blows, but dissatisfied at the highest level. It is an elegiac strain of his career, but an elegy almost entirely of his own composition.
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