MUMBAI, 9 February 2007 — Mumbai, won the Ranji Trophy, the symbol of supremacy in the National Cricket Championship India, for the 37th time, that is more than half the number of times that the tournament, started in 1934, has been held so far.
This feat was achieved when all the stalwarts came back home to play for them in the final against Bengal. Since Bombay have, over the years, contributed quite a few players to the cause of the national side, it is often that they are denied of their services for Ranji matches. This time, five of them, Sachin Tendulkar, Wasim Jaffer, Ajit Agarkar,Ramesh Powar and Zaheer Khan, playing their first match of the season, the final, and helped to lift the trophy, named after India’s legendary cricketer. Mumbai’s monopoly is shared by the likes of New South Wales, who have won the Sheffield Shield 44 times, Yorkshire, with the English County Championship title 30 times and 18-time winners of Shell Shield, Barbados. But there the comparison must end because Mumbai’s unique quality of cricket evolves from a mass base, the kind of which is not seen anywhere in the cricketing world. Nurtured on the undulating open surfaces, that are known as maidans. On any weekend, you can see hundreds of matches being played, all together and all so tight, that fielders of one match stand within hand-shaking distance of the others from another match. It is such a level field (not the surface) that the stars who have done India proud become as nondescript as hundreds of others who carry such dreams of making it big.
The less said about the conditions of these grounds the better. They are open to invasion and encroachment by all and sundry, whether it is a circus, a cultural event or a public meeting. There is no authority to stop this misuse of vast playgrounds, much less maintain them.
In other parts of the country too youngsters start playing in open places, but the level of congestion (of people) that is in Mumbai is not seen anywhere. The metropolis has grown a 100 times, in population and is structures of all kinds, from shanties to high-rises, but the open spaces that function as playgrounds, haven’t expanded a bit.
So it is not only ability, but also adaptability to all forms of vagaries, that mark out a Mumbai cricketer. These lack of proper facilities harden their resolve further. Only they can make a virtue of their great inconvenience. That is, perhaps, the stuff that champions are made of.
