It's sad. But it looks truer with every passing inning: Sourav Ganguly's days as a top-flight cricketer are over. From a man who loves the big occasion and the spotlight on every move he makes, Sourav is playing more like a belly dancer attempting jazz or kathak. Result: little foot movement. And even little jazz in the way he wields the willow. Bowled for 36 in first outing. Caught doing nothing with his front leg in the second, on 40.
The big-natch, big-occasion, big-century player fighting for fifties.
And don't give me the claptrap about pressure or tension. Sourav is one man born to fight it. You only have to recall Lord's 1996. Or the recent South Africa series, his third comeback (sorry, no inclination to remember inane statistics). He was sure-footed, even cocky then. He is pussy-footing, even rocky now.
Strange how the likes of Gavaskar and co-commentators think he's playing well, even in a gritty sorta way. Really? Roobish, as Boycott would have said about any player other than his 'prince'. Chancy, streaky shots punctuated with some gems on the off-side. That's Ganguly for you. Circa 2007.
It's been a decade and a year more, Dada. And Lord's of those innings is looking more like the sepia-tinted image from the album of bell-bottomed youth that granddads look at. For the first time in a decade, I feel it is time...
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