by Sambit Bal
Monday, September 10, 2001

The five wise men of Indian cricket sat together last Friday for what would be their last meeting, and, inspired by the occasion, unveiled a bold initiative to address a festering, but little discussed, problem confronting Indian cricket. They decreed that Deep Dasgupta, little known outside his home state of West Bengal, but highly regarded by men who should know, will become India's sixth wicketkeeper in the last two years.

If he has been watching the Indian team play, Anil Kumble will be relieved that Sameer Dighe won't be behind the stumps for his comeback match. But Dasgupta, with only 15 first-class matches behind him, is an unknown quantity, and one can be sure that it will be a while before Kumble starts plotting a cheeky stumping down the leg side.

India are forever obsessed with the lack of a pair of opening batsmen who can stick it out, a couple of tearaway quickies who can knock out a few teeth and a legspinner who can genuinely turn the ball. But what about a wicketkeeper who can take those half-chances? Half chances? Are we kidding? We should be grateful for a keeper who comes up with the ball every time he goes for it.

But it's understandable that there has been no outpouring of national anguish over India's struggle to field a genuine keeper. Wicketkeeping is mundane, unglamorous and unsexy. Wicketkeepers don't fill stadiums, nor do they inspire purple prose. To most spectators, cricket is a business of bat and ball - and who cares about the guy who spends all day crouching behind the stumps, collecting small change after the serious transaction has been conducted. Who cares? Ask Sairaj Bahutule, whose return to international cricket was ruined by two bad misses from Dighe.

Wicketkeeping is the second-most thankless job in cricket, after umpiring. Just as people only remember the umpire's dodgy decision, so they only remember the spill and the miss. But a good keeper is as vital to a side as a good captain. Cricket's greatest success stories have invariably involved great keepers. It's no coincidence that Rodney Marsh, Alan Knott, Deryck Murray, Jeff Dujon and Ian Healy played for sides that won more matches than they lost.

Great teams have sometimes carried the odd journeyman and the percentage cricketer, like the Australians do Colin Miller, but never a below-par wicketkeeper. A slippery keeper is like a spendthrift spouse - not worth the effort. And India will never be a great side until they can find a reliable pair of gloves.

Barring brief periods when Bharat Reddy and Sadanand Viswanath and Vijay Yadav kept wicket, only three men did the job for India between 1976 and 1999. Syed Kirmani kept for 10 years, Kiran More for seven and Nayan Mongia another seven. Since October 1999, we have had five different men turning up behind the stumps. Four have never looked the part - MSK Prasad (six matches), Vijay Dahiya (two), Saba Karim (one) and Sameer Dighe (six) - and the man who has done, has played only two Tests.

Nayan Mongia is the best wicketkeeper in the land by a fair distance and if nobody wants him in the side we have a right to know why. When Michael Slater was dropped for the final Ashes Test, Trevor Hohns, Australia's chief selector, let the world know that the management had a problem with Slater off the field. It's not enough for the chairman of India's selection committee to dismiss Mongia's claim to the job with vague and evasive excuses.

Meanwhile, Deep Dasgupta will quickly learn that it's one thing to impress Rodney Marsh on practice pitches and quite another to stand up to Anil Kumble in an international match. For the sake of Indian cricket, good luck to him.

Sambit Bal is India editor of Wisden.com.

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