A left-arm seamer was working up and working over Murali Vijay. The wiry-built net bowler with a brisk Ashish Nehra-like action neither bend the delivery back viciously or made the odd one to hold its line. Rather, he was just slanting it across from back of a length, hurrying the batsman with sheer pace.
A left-arm seamer was working up and working over Murali Vijay. The wiry-built net bowler with a brisk Ashish Nehra-like action neither bend the delivery back viciously or made the odd one to hold its line. Rather, he was just slanting it across from back of a length, hurrying the batsman with sheer pace.
The first ball to Vijay was full in length, his hands reached for it, the feet entirely crease-stuck, and was squarely beaten. Expected rustiness after four days of rest, the reflexes just grooving in. Smiling sheepishly, Vijay yelped at him: “Good ball. Keep bowling that line.” As if the bowler would listen, the next delivery was back of a length and Vijay was again caught in no-man’s land, neither back nor forward. This time he didn’t encourage the bowler, but suspiciously looked at the pitch, which was so worn out that the black soil underneath was visible in some parts.
Refocused, Vijay scratched his spikes on the surface and changed his guard from middle-and-leg to middle-and-off. What does the smart bowler do? He pushed his line a little away, but Vijay’s feet movement was more precise, he authoritatively square-drove, which finally brought a smile to his face. But the winded-up bowler responded with a bouncer. Another ‘good ball’ yelp cut through the air and another smile escaped from Vijay’s lips. He seemed to be enjoying the heat of the battle, and brought out a flurry of rasping drives, punctuated by the odd delivery that struck the splice of his blade or buzzed past his outside edge. But whatever happened to that good old leave of his? He was trying to play at almost every other ball.
Not just Vijay, the net bowler impressed KL Rahul too, who was batting in the adjacent nets. He implored to Vijay in Tamil to let him face a few overs of him, dangling a carrot: “Next time, I’ll take first strike.” Vijay couldn’t resist laughing, and after facing a few more deliveries, one of which took off for the handle, asked him to bowl a few at his opening partner, more out-of-sorts than himself. But unlike Vijay, Rahul looked in impeccable touch. He had a good word from Vijay, after he stroked Ishant Sharma down the ground: “Semma shot, machi!” (Great shot, mate!).
Shortly steamed in Shami from a shorter run-up and straightaway pinged one on Vijay’s pads, a yorker then somehow deflected off his front pad and struck him on unguarded calf, leaving him cringing in pain. Shami smiled impishly at him. Vijay didn’t fluster, he pulled the next ball and stood in his follow-through for an eternity, as if suggesting: “I have the one-upmanship on you.” But Shami shouted back: “Ball to de yaar, photographer log koi hain nahin.”
It was a sunny morning when both Vijay and Rahul seemed they wouldn’t let anyone else bat at the nets, given the trough they’re treading. For motivation, they needn’t have looked further than to their right where Mayank Agarwal was disdaining Kuldeep Yadav. But the MCG is a good venue to pen a comeback script — it’s where Rahul made his debut four years ago, Vijay too had laced an effortless 68 in the first innings of that Test. Positive vibes as they say.
When finally they took their pads off, after much persuasion from the coaching staff who wanted to see how Ravichandran Ashwin had recovered, they walked back looking pleased with their hit. And both of them lingered to chat up with the scraggly-bearded left-arm seamer with a Nehra-like action. A good audition for facing Starc.
It’s a familiar sight these days — a healthy, even at times, raucous audience to watch Virat Kohli bat even at the nets. Not just the over-enthused Indian kids but also Aussie oldies, some of whom were as vocal as the kids. In fact more intrusive too, expressing their displeasure when he missed a delivery or if they spotted something amiss in his technique. For instance, after he was beaten once, one of them shouted a piece of advice at him: “Your back foot is not moving across.”
The Indian skipper was in his bubble. He hardly ever acknowledged them, but did play a few strokes for the gallery (even if that might not have been his intention). He would repeatedly sashay down to an off-spinning net bowler, whose action and craft was more Ashwin than Nathan Lyon, what with more side-spin and variation. Generally, he looks to chip them over cover or extra-cover, but Kohli was trying to heft him over mid-on or mid-wicket. Then he unfurled the paddle sweep, a stroke he seldom pulls out against Lyon, due to the pace and the bounce his over-spin-spitting fingers generate.
He top-edged the first, missed the second altogether and the third was inside-edge onto his pad. He stopped the experimentation soon after and reverted to sashays and slogs. An Aussie oldie even dusted up a bit of Hindi too: “Shabaash, Kohli.” In a thick Victorian accent.
Ravindra Jadeja was a happy man, just as Ashwin was grumpy. It might or might not actually reflect the selection choices for the MCG Test, but Jadeja was gambolling around, rifling through his overs (when he slows down, it’s a telltale sign that something is crutching his mind), cracking jokes, bantering — of all people — bowling coach Bharat Arun, and even beat Ajinkya Rahane a few times. He even took a sharp deflected catch — Rahane had driven firmly back at a net bowler, but the ball glanced off a post and to the right of Jadeja, who stretched his hand just in time to pouch it.
But Ashwin was moving gloomily and gingerly, not finishing his action, not exerting his shoulders and bowling much shorter, Arun and physio Patrick Farhart permanently tailing him. Later, coach Ravi Shastri said a decision on him will be taken 48 hours later, but the contrasting moods of the two spinners were such that the message was already conveyed. Anyway, the think tank likes to keep one guessing.
The first ball to Vijay was full in length, his hands reached for it, the feet entirely crease-stuck, and was squarely beaten. Expected rustiness after four days of rest, the reflexes just grooving in. Smiling sheepishly, Vijay yelped at him: “Good ball. Keep bowling that line.” As if the bowler would listen, the next delivery was back of a length and Vijay was again caught in no-man’s land, neither back nor forward. This time he didn’t encourage the bowler, but suspiciously looked at the pitch, which was so worn out that the black soil underneath was visible in some parts.
Refocused, Vijay scratched his spikes on the surface and changed his guard from middle-and-leg to middle-and-off. What does the smart bowler do? He pushed his line a little away, but Vijay’s feet movement was more precise, he authoritatively square-drove, which finally brought a smile to his face. But the winded-up bowler responded with a bouncer. Another ‘good ball’ yelp cut through the air and another smile escaped from Vijay’s lips. He seemed to be enjoying the heat of the battle, and brought out a flurry of rasping drives, punctuated by the odd delivery that struck the splice of his blade or buzzed past his outside edge. But whatever happened to that good old leave of his? He was trying to play at almost every other ball.
Not just Vijay, the net bowler impressed KL Rahul too, who was batting in the adjacent nets. He implored to Vijay in Tamil to let him face a few overs of him, dangling a carrot: “Next time, I’ll take first strike.” Vijay couldn’t resist laughing, and after facing a few more deliveries, one of which took off for the handle, asked him to bowl a few at his opening partner, more out-of-sorts than himself. But unlike Vijay, Rahul looked in impeccable touch. He had a good word from Vijay, after he stroked Ishant Sharma down the ground: “Semma shot, machi!” (Great shot, mate!).
Shortly steamed in Shami from a shorter run-up and straightaway pinged one on Vijay’s pads, a yorker then somehow deflected off his front pad and struck him on unguarded calf, leaving him cringing in pain. Shami smiled impishly at him. Vijay didn’t fluster, he pulled the next ball and stood in his follow-through for an eternity, as if suggesting: “I have the one-upmanship on you.” But Shami shouted back: “Ball to de yaar, photographer log koi hain nahin.”
It was a sunny morning when both Vijay and Rahul seemed they wouldn’t let anyone else bat at the nets, given the trough they’re treading. For motivation, they needn’t have looked further than to their right where Mayank Agarwal was disdaining Kuldeep Yadav. But the MCG is a good venue to pen a comeback script — it’s where Rahul made his debut four years ago, Vijay too had laced an effortless 68 in the first innings of that Test. Positive vibes as they say.
When finally they took their pads off, after much persuasion from the coaching staff who wanted to see how Ravichandran Ashwin had recovered, they walked back looking pleased with their hit. And both of them lingered to chat up with the scraggly-bearded left-arm seamer with a Nehra-like action. A good audition for facing Starc.
It’s a familiar sight these days — a healthy, even at times, raucous audience to watch Virat Kohli bat even at the nets. Not just the over-enthused Indian kids but also Aussie oldies, some of whom were as vocal as the kids. In fact more intrusive too, expressing their displeasure when he missed a delivery or if they spotted something amiss in his technique. For instance, after he was beaten once, one of them shouted a piece of advice at him: “Your back foot is not moving across.”
The Indian skipper was in his bubble. He hardly ever acknowledged them, but did play a few strokes for the gallery (even if that might not have been his intention). He would repeatedly sashay down to an off-spinning net bowler, whose action and craft was more Ashwin than Nathan Lyon, what with more side-spin and variation. Generally, he looks to chip them over cover or extra-cover, but Kohli was trying to heft him over mid-on or mid-wicket. Then he unfurled the paddle sweep, a stroke he seldom pulls out against Lyon, due to the pace and the bounce his over-spin-spitting fingers generate.
He top-edged the first, missed the second altogether and the third was inside-edge onto his pad. He stopped the experimentation soon after and reverted to sashays and slogs. An Aussie oldie even dusted up a bit of Hindi too: “Shabaash, Kohli.” In a thick Victorian accent.
Ravindra Jadeja was a happy man, just as Ashwin was grumpy. It might or might not actually reflect the selection choices for the MCG Test, but Jadeja was gambolling around, rifling through his overs (when he slows down, it’s a telltale sign that something is crutching his mind), cracking jokes, bantering — of all people — bowling coach Bharat Arun, and even beat Ajinkya Rahane a few times. He even took a sharp deflected catch — Rahane had driven firmly back at a net bowler, but the ball glanced off a post and to the right of Jadeja, who stretched his hand just in time to pouch it.
But Ashwin was moving gloomily and gingerly, not finishing his action, not exerting his shoulders and bowling much shorter, Arun and physio Patrick Farhart permanently tailing him. Later, coach Ravi Shastri said a decision on him will be taken 48 hours later, but the contrasting moods of the two spinners were such that the message was already conveyed. Anyway, the think tank likes to keep one guessing.