The vacant orange seats of the Narendra Modi Stadium burned bright in the hot Ahmedabad sun. So hot that even the pictures would emit the heat. Children in white shirts, trousers and caps rehearsed flag choreography while the PA rolled out music. The tired ground staff coiled in their dugouts to catch a siesta.
The afternoon before the final was laid back and without the buzz that marked the last time India featured in a summit clash here, in the 2023 ODI World Cup, where Australia humbled them, and jet planes pirouetted into the air.
India captain Suryakumar Yadav too humorously stubbed a reference to the game. When put across that Mitchell Santner said he wanted to silence the crowd — which he actually did not say — he said: “Same old line. Ask him to find a new one.” Towards the end of the interaction, he was reminded of the night again. This time, he got irritated. “Leave it, it happened three years ago.” He, though, asserted that there is pressure. “I am a big believer that without pressure, there is no fun.”
But the shadows and scars of the game would loom large on Sunday, no matter how the team or public claim they have made peace with the night. The journey to the final would not have been more different, though. Rohit Sharma’s fleet sauntered to the final, they were the champions-designated even before the final, only to stumble in the game that mattered the most.
India’s Varun Chakaravarthy and Mohammed Siraj during practice session ahead of T20 World Cup final in Ahmedabad. (Express photo by Bhupendra Rana)
Suryakumar Yadav’s squadron stuttered to the final. South Africa crushed them here, two weeks ago. England and West Indies took the game to the last over; the USA nearly pulled off an upset first game. Surya’s men have not been a flawless winning machine, but one that has creaked and needed a smudge of grease, a twist or two with the spanner, a team living on the edge. But as with teams living on the edge, they always find a way to survive. Survival has been the theme of India’s campaign, in a tournament where no team has looked invincible, where Australia exited prematurely and where four of the five Asian sides crashed out in the group stage.
A perfect game has eluded India. Opener Abhishek Sharma’s slump is a worry. As is the blandness of mystery spinner Varun Chakaravarthy. Both were India’s pin-up boys coming into the tournament, but both have been underwhelming. Surya shrugged it off. “Performance goes up and down, that’s natural in the format,” he said.
Depth in quality
It’s a reflection of India’s depth in quality and resourcefulness that they are racking up monstrous totals even without Abhishek’s contributions and they are defending totals despite a profligate Varun. They would not be fretting over the immaculate Jasprit Bumrah enduring a bad day. Or Sanju Samson getting out early. Or getting the worst of conditions. Setbacks have instilled them with the defiance to take the game as it unfolds.
In a sense, such insecurities have kept India on its feet, kept them guarded and not intoxicated by their own success. The team nurses no sense of infallibility, but they have found heroes and heroic moments. If India beat New Zealand on Sunday, they would be the first team to defend a title and the first to win at home. There is hope and belief, but not brashness.
Grand statements and narratives have been brushed aside. Not only because T20 is the ficklest of formats, where the tides are sometimes irreversible, but also because the opponents are New Zealand. India have lost two of the three ICC-events finals against them; they have never defeated the Black Caps in the T20 World Cup, losing all three games. New Zealand, like India, have looked vulnerable. Apart from their perfect game against South Africa, they have staggered to the final. Their seamers have been inconsistent, batting has been over-reliant on the Mad Max openers, Finn Allen and Tim Seifert. Uncharacteristically, the spinners have donned the lead roles.
It sets up the premise of the final — the battle of the flawed. It elevates the suspense of the game, because there is no overwhelming favourite. It peels the diverse layers of the contest, because it has a familiar and fascinating array of cast. New Zealand captain Mitchell Santner put on the pantomime villain role when he said that he does not mind “breaking a few hearts” if it meant winning the tournament for once.
It will go into the World Cup final on Sunday as the underdog purely because of financial reality and demographics, and not because its players are under-appreciated or its talent is in doubt. “ Everyone knows we’re probably not the favourites, But we don’t mind. We know we can, if we do our little things well and put in a strong team performance, put us in a pretty good position to hopefully lift the trophy,” he said.
His team practised in the intimidating silence of the arena. It would be different on Sunday, and by the end of which one group of players will be holding the trophy and feeling it against their skin. The other will be plunged into a lifetime of regret. Surya experienced the stifling silence of the crowd in 2023. This Sunday, he will hope, will be different, even though the Sunday three years ago would cast its giant shadows.
