Kohli's team needs more players who are NOT like Kohli

Virat Kohli clearly sets the tone for the Indian Cricket Team
He needs more leaders around him, who are NOT like him

Should members of a team be tightly-knit?

Should a team be a band of brothers, so close that they can live each other’s lives, complete each other’s sentences, and even sense each other’s unspoken thoughts? Should they foster this sense of brotherhood by living every waking minute of their lives together, eating the same meals, listening to the same music, wearing the same clothes, sloping their shoulders at the same angle, sporting the same scruffy beards?

This is a Goldilocks problem. Some unity is clearly good. Too much of this good stuff is counter-productive. It creates group think (or more precisely, group feel). The hard part is to get the balance just right.

What we just saw from the Indian cricket team in England is both the good and the bad side of this Goldilocks problem.

In the Lord’s test, it was thrilling to see the passion, commitment, and belief in this Indian team. The energy India created was so thick that I could have cut it with a knife 5,000 miles away. They created this magic by feeding off and amplifying each other’s intensity.

Two weeks later, at Headingley, the same team were flatter than a dosa (or a pancake). They reminded me of Woody Allen’s truism: that eighty percent of success is just showing up. Our boys didn’t show up. Sure, there was technique involved – the optimal Headlingley length is about a yard and a half fuller than a Lord’s length – but this team has enough resources to have learnt and acted on that technical difference. We didn’t learn quickly enough. We weren’t unlucky. We were uninspired.

England feed off each other's energy
At Headingley, day 4

How can a team go from magical to uninspired in one match? When they’re too close to each other. When their moods, thoughts and feelings are too contagious. Or, when their moods, thoughts and feelings are being orchestrated by one individual. When that happens, the team starts to act like a single organism rather than a set of individuals with distinct minds and roles. When that happens a team, in any walk of like, the team's performance see-saws or yo-yos. They lack the resilience and stability a team should have. 

I think that is happening to Virat's Indian team. When a couple of members get inspired, several others lift their game. When a couple of them get into a funk, several others also get into a funk. This team is too united.

In the long sweep of history, this unity is an excellent thing.

My generation of cricket fans remember the long painful years when the Indian cricket team was anything but united. We remember the time of Gavaskar vs. Kapil Dev regional politics, of the East Zone quota (Barun Burman? Pranob Roy?), of the time when Raj Singh Dungarpur appointed Azharuddin captain to clip the wings of players asking for their fair share of the economic value they were creating, and – the lowest point in our history - the way Azharuddin went on to make money in his own way by throwing matches for bookies. After all those horrors, the unity, continuity, ambition and therefore excellence we’ve seen in the age of Ganguly, Dhoni and Kohli has been a delight.

This unity can’t be taken for granted. We need only look around at the West Indies, Sri Lanka or Pakistan to know the cost of disunity. These countries continue to produce talented individuals. They haven’t had a decent team since Brian Lara, Arjuna Ranatunga or Imran Khan because they haven’t found strong leadership and therefore unity. India has been the only third-world/ emerging-market team consistently challenging the traditional superpowers of England and Australia in the twenty-first century, because we’ve consistently found leadership and unity, because we’ve learnt to play as a team rather than as individuals.

But in the short sweep of history, a couple of “outsiders” – players who haven’t been in the India-bubble for a long time, who break up the (comfortable) unity of the team – will surely help. 

The team can be united without the players thinking and sounding alike. What Khalil Gibran's Prophet said about marriage, "let there be spaces in your togetherness", applies to teamwork as well.

Virat's team needs more independent characters, fresh voices, contrarian thoughts, un-synced emotions. The team needs more mood-makers who can pick up the baton when Kohli is just exhausted, who can balance him out, who can zig when the rest of the team are zagging. 

I don’t think this is going to happen. All the signals from the dressing room are that Virat Kohli will double down on the guys, especially the batters, already in the playing eleven. Which means no "outsiders". Faith easily hardens into stubbornness.

If it’s any consolation, even the best Indian companies - Infosys, Tata Sons, HDFC Bank - have all had their share of difficulties in renewing their executive teams. Its not easy, but it is worth it. 

MSD: Bill Gates :: VK : Steve Jobs
Did Steve Jobs have strong voices around him?

PS: Yes, I could use this thought for a corporate workshop on building an executive team with resilience and bench-strength...

Batting in the pink ball test at Motera should have been like batting against Kumble or Underwood. It was a test of traditional technique

Jonny Bairstow
Ducks in both innings @ Motera

India just beat England in the Motera test in under two days. What happened?

Having watched replays and commentaries over the weekend (because the live cricket is over), my takeaway is that bad batting happened.

Digging a little deeper…

Joe Root gave us the most cogent explanation for why the pink ball used in Ahmedabad behaved differently from the traditional red ball.
 
The pink ball seam is harder and therefore stands prouder. The thicker lacquer surface means the ball comes off the pitch more quickly, especially when the ball lands on the lacquer surface rather than on the seam. The ball also spins more or less depending on whether it lands on the seam or on the surface. This doesn’t mean that there is more spin on the pitch, or that it is two-paced. It does means there is more variation in the spin, and more variation in the pace at which the ball reaches the bat.
 
There is nothing specifically Indian/ sub-continental about this extra variation.
 
This is similar to how a ball would behave on a traditionally English “sticky wicket” drying off after summer rain. Derek “Deadly” Underwood would have reveled in the conditions at Motera.

"Deadly" Derek Underwood 
Would have loved bowling at Motera 

How did good batsmen counter this variation? With classic traditional technique.
 
Traditional batting technique was meant to deal with uncertainty. Well-schooled batsmen got right down to the pitch of the ball, got low, “smelt” the ball, kept their bat just in front of their front pad, played with a straight bat, through the line, into the V, smothered the spin on a good length, and scored big off long-hops that sat up to be thumped or half-volleys that never got the chance to deviate. Cutting off the stumps, sweeping on a length, hitting against the spin and playing from the crease - all behaviours that assume low uncertainty - were all considered bad batting.
 
A classically correct English batsman of an earlier generation, like Dennis Amiss, might have batted for hours at Motera. Sunny Gavaskar’s 96 against Pakistan in Bangalore was made in much more challenging conditions. Karnataka’s Brijesh Patel (long considered a better player of spin than even GR Vishwanath), or Tamil Nadu purists like V Sivaramakrishnan and TE Srinivasan would have been equipped to deal with the variation in both pace and speed. VVS Laxman, India’s fourth innings hero on so many occasions, would have done fine.
 
Today’s batsmen, our sixer-hitting reverse-sweeping galacticos, don’t seem to be equipped with these traditional virtues. Look at the way the top order batters got themselves out.
 
Kohli, Rahane and Foakes were out trying to cut length balls on the stumps. Anybody who has played Kumble could have told them that when the ball is turning just a bit and hurrying on to the stumps, playing horizontal bat shots is suicide.
 
Rohit Sharma and Jonny Bairstow were out sweeping for the length despite the line. Root was out LBW twice, rooted to his crease instead of either getting fully forward or back. Pant was out driving through the line of a ball that was just short of a drivable length. Shubman Gill was out trying to pull a short ball from well outside off. WTF?! 

Rohit Sharma was in charge, until he threw it away

It would be nice if our galacticos also learnt traditional batting, to supplement their sixer-hitting heroics.
 
There were also a surprisingly large number of good batters who missed straight balls. Zak Crawley (who played beautifully in the first innings) was bowled off the first ball he faced from Axar in the second. Pujara and Washington Sundar clean missed ordinary looking length balls from Leach and Root. This looks like batters aren’t sighting the pink ball, especially when they’re new to the crease.
 
That is not surprising. It takes literally years spent out in the middle for an international batter to train his vision to sight a cricket ball that’s dancing around in space. This training is cognitive more than optical. “Seeing the ball like a football” is a cognitive reality. It’s totally natural if a new colour tricks the eye/ mind, if it is harder to see a pink ball, and therefore impossible to “see the ball like a football”.
  
So where’s this going? What next? 

I think the Motera test is an argument for playing more pink ball cricket at the junior, domestic and limited over levels.
 
The ECB has mandated that each first-class county plays at least one pink ball game per year. If that doesn’t seem like a lot, here in India I don’t think any Ranji Trophy games use a pink ball. Without that experience, the next generation of players will also have to discover the pink ball only when they reach the international level.
 
If Root’s insight – that there is more uncertainty in the path of a pink ball than in either a red or white ball - is true, I especially like the idea of pink ball cricket in limited overs games. Test cricket is in perfectly good health (refer Brisbane 2021). Limited overs cricket needs to shift its balance of power to favour bowlers. Pink ball games might be a good way to do so.
 
Finally, from a purely parochial, partisan viewpoint, one positive thing that the “minefield” at Motera has resulted in is that the Poms are whingeing again.
 
Steve Waugh’s invincibles realised that the only way to beat India in India was by enforcing a strict no-whingeing rule. This was the discipline that enabled them to come back from the miracle of Kolkata in 2001, to conquer the final frontier in 2004.
 
During the first Chennai test I was a little worried that Root’s team had learnt from Waugh’s success, that they had trained their minds to enjoy playing in India. But now, with all the whingeing about the wicket, the umpires, the bio-bubble, the rotation policy, their Asian spinner Moeen Ali “choosing” to go home, etcetera, it feels a bit like the wheels are coming of the English bus.
 
England will now play the fourth and final test with both a series win and/ or a spot in the WTC finals out of reach. Are they proud enough to play with passion and purpose, in unquestionably tough conditions, when there is nothing except pride at stake? Or in other words, do they have the relentless intensity of Lloyd's Windies, Waugh's Aussies or Kohli's Indians? Let’s see.

The England Leadership Team
Do they have the hunger to fight on in the fourth test?

 

"Winning Takes Care of Everything". By Tiger Woods, Barack Obama and Bhagavan Sri Krishna

Tiger Woods on the importance of winning

How far does one go to win? 

As far as one possibly can. 

Most sportsmen would agree with Tiger Woods on that point. 

Win gracefully if that is your style. Win ugly if not. Test the edges of the rules. Win! 

This might stick in the throat of nice, well brought up, middle class boys like this blogger. But fair enough. Tiger Woods is a pro. He is playing hardball. So are his competitors. Maybe winning does take care of everything. For Tiger. 

How well does that generalize? 

Depends. 

On how well winning is defined. And on how well-defined the rules are. 

In most walks of life both winning and the rules of play are very loosely defined. 

Barack Obama with Tim Kaine
On the importance of winning

So how hard does one play? 

Public life is a sphere where hardball might be a bad idea, where the unwritten rules are more important than in sports, where winning doesn’t take care of everything. 

So, it was interesting to learn that Nobel Peace prize laurate ex-President Barack Obama endorses hardball. 

Apparently he told Tim Kaine, then candidate Hillary Clinton’s VP nominee “Tim, remember, this is no time to be a purist. You've got to keep a fascist out of the White House". 

Barack thinks that when the stakes are high, purity is less important than winning. 

This is not a recent question. 

Bhagavan Sri Krishna played hardball. 

Arjuna asked Bhagavan Sri Krishna about dharma at Kurukshetra. Bhagavan Sri Krishna replied with his actions. Whether it was forcing Karna to waste Indra’s Shakthi on Ghatothkacha, obscuring the sun with his Sudarshana-chakra so Arjuna could avenge Abhimanyu’s death, or orchestrating Yudhishthira’s only lie so Dhrishtadhyumna could kill Guru Dronacharya, Bhagavan Sri Krishna was willing to play hardball. The stakes were high enough to justify this. Winning mattered more than purity.

In contexts that are more important than sports, maybe winning doesn’t take care of everything. 

But winning does take care of a lot of things.

Bhagawan Sri Krishna with Arjuna
On the importance of winning

Question for Australia: is Bodyline Okay?

Pujara being hit a bodyline delivery from Pat Cummins

Is bodyline okay now?

Is anybody in the cricket media/ establishment even asking that question?

The Aussies were bowling bodyline. There is no other word for it. 

In the just concluded India-Australia series, the Aussie quick bowlers were clearly trying to hit and intimidate the batters. They targeted top order batsmen like Pujara, who took eleven bodyhits during his heroic resistance in Brisbane. They also targeted lower order batsmen like Shami, whose fractured arm deprived India of a pace spearhead.

Pujara's body-blows on the last day at Brisbane

Media coverage has been mainly about India's courage in braving this assault, not about whether this kind of assault was cricket in the first place.

The Aussie leadership behind this bodyline attack – Tim Paine and Justin Langer – are supposedly the clean-cut role-models who are creating a wholesome new culture, after the win-at-all-costs sandpaper-gate culture created by Steve Smith and Darren Lehmann. They have copped a lot of flak for sledging and losing, but not for bowling bodyline.

The leaders of the cricket world - Gavaskar, Ganguly, Shane Warne, the Waugh twins, the Chappell brothers, England’s Michael Vaughn, thoughtful commentators like Harsha Bhogle – have had little or nothing to say about this tactic. The only murmurs of protest Google could find me are on niche Indian and Kiwi websites.

Michael Atherton seems to have brought up the appropriateness of bodyline in 2017, when Mitchell Johnson was peppering the English top order as well as bunnies like Jake Ball and Jimmy Anderson with short stuff. Steve Smith, then the pre-sandpaper-gate Australian captain, dismissed Atherton's view as "a bit over the top. No doubt, if they had the kind of pace that our bowlers can generate, they'd do the same thing."

Maybe bodyline is the new normal.

Maybe anyone who complains about bodyline is a wuss.

Maybe it is just naïve to expect professional cricketers to respect unwritten codes of conduct.

Maybe.

Mohammad Shami being hit by a bodyline delivery from Pat Cummins.
Shami was sent home with a fractured arm

Virat Kohli deserves credit for India’s amazing win in Australia

Team India at the Gabba with the Border-Gavaskar Trophy 

Victory at the Gabba! What an amazing win! What incredible attitude, spunk, guts and gumption!

Rishabh and Siraj celebrate

India’s amazing test series victory in Australia was achieved while India’s captain and best batsman - Virat Kohli - was away on paternity leave. So, for the past week my social media feed has been buzzing with snarky memes about how Team India is better off without superstar Kohli, or with TED talk style meditations on how “servant leaders” like Ajinkya Rahane are more effective than “alpha leaders” like Virat.

These memes are missing the point. Kohli deserves a ton of credit for this win.

Kohli’s biggest contribution to this moment was in making winning test series abroad India’s #1 priority.

In the later years of MS Dhoni’s captaincy that commitment was never clear. There was always a feeling that Dhoni’s test team were going through the motions rather than playing with belief, intent, or purpose. That sense of drift was obvious on the abysmal England tours of 2011 and 2014. It seemed obvious that MSD enjoyed limited overs cricket more than test matches. The fog never really lifted until Dhoni retired from test cricket.

At that time, it was easy to imagine that Indian cricket would become IPL-land, happy to have some T20 fun, but with no higher aspirations. With a different leader that could easily have happened.

Fortunately, Kohli never had any doubts that his ambition was to make India a great test team.

He brought in other leaders, like Ravi Shastri, who shared this vision. He committed to the workload of playing more tests, to the more arduous scheduling, to the fitness culture needed to maintain a pack of 8-10 genuine quick bowlers who could bowl with intensity after an entire day’s play in any conditions. Kohli prepped India's test team with away-wins in Sri Lanka and the West Indies, with home wins against New Zealand, South Africa England and Australia before setting out to conquer the final frontier – away wins in the SENA nations.

That prize almost eluded him. With a bit of luck India could have won in South Africa in 2017-18. We lost chasing fourth inning targets of 208 in Cape Town and 287 Pretoria. With a bit more luck India could have won in England in 2018. We lost chasing fourth inning targets of 195 in Birmingham and 245 in Southampton. Compare that with the 328 we hunted down against a better attack in Brisbane.

Mother Cricket finally smiled down on Kohli’s team when India finally beat Australia in Australia in 2018-19 for the first time in history. Captain Kohli’s noble quest hadn’t been in vain. The final frontier had been conquered.

If India had the resources to win again in Australia in 2020-21, it is in significant part because of Kohli’s legacy. There is nothing inevitable about having a team of young test players with the chutzpah to beat the Aussies in Australia. Kohli’s ambition, faith and patient team building set this win up.

The point is not to take anything away from the rest of the leadership group.

Most great achievements have many fathers. Rahane’s calm, Shastri’s mental toughness, even Bharat Arun’s tactical nous all contributed to this glorious moment. But leadership is about more than being the khadoos Maratha rock the rest of the team bat around, it is about more than being calm presence in the dressing room, it is more than making the smart field placings. Leadership is also about having a vision for what we will achieve together and having the resourcefulness and patience to develop a team to deliver on that vision. To that extent the leader who gave us the joy of Brisbane 2021 is the nappy-changing daddy Kohli.

Let there be no doubt that Virat has fire in his belly...

...even if he does have a softer side.

Note: I was surfing the web for pictures of Virat and Anushka with the daughter, who was born on the day India saved the Sydney test. The photos on the net right now are all stock images or fakes.

"You were born a daughter" - a retro Nike print ad

This post is to share the retro Nike print advertisement below. I came across these images on a blog called ShoeGirl Corner while looking for background info on Nike advertising for my last blogpost. Loved the advert.

It does feel retro.

Does anybody do eight page print spreads in glossy magazines anymore? Including an entire page that has just five words?

The feminism doesn't feel retro, though.

Women as still often seen and portrayed (and see and portray themselves) in relational terms, as mother/ daughter/ wife/ sister/ friend, as significant others. There still are feminist breakthroughs to be had in taking out that scaffolding and portraying women as individuals, as protagonists, as heroes of their own stories.

Is it retro for Nike to feature normal people, like the soccer moms and school teachers who actually pay for Nike products, rather than Wimbledon champions and Olympic gold medallists? I hope not. 

Why we gamble on Deepavali

Goddess Lakshmi
Deepavali's Presiding Deity

It is Deepavali today. We’re going to play cards in the evening. We always have. It’s  a tradition.

How come? How did gambling, something generally frowned upon in Indian culture, become such an integral part of India’s biggest festival?

My father had an explanation for this seeming paradox. His funda was that gambling, risk taking, is essential to Deepavali because it is a festival of Lakshmi, the Goddess of wealth.

Lakshmi represents prosperity, plenty, abundance. Deepavali is an invocation to Lakshmi, an invitation to the Goddess to bring her cornucopia of goodness into the home. But Lakshmi can only come into a home which has space for Her. One has to make room for Lakshmi. And one makes space for Her by gambling, by taking a risk.

The symbolism is all about the work needed to create prosperity. All prosperity, all abundance, has always been created by risk-taking. Hunters going out on the savanna to spear bison, farmers planting a crop in anticipation of the monsoon, software engineers pooling their savings to fund a start-up, they are all taking risks; to create room for Goddess Lakshmi. 

No pain, no gain. You may want the risks to be small and the gains to be large. But if you never take a risk, you’ll never give the Goddess a chance to shower her blessings upon you.

Is this interpretation authentic? 

Hard to say. Google tells me that there is an ancient legend of Shiva and Parvati playing dice on Mount Kailash which gives divine sanction to gambling on Deepavali. 

But the beautiful thing about Hinduism being an open-source religion is that I can choose to believe my father’s interpretation without looking for institutional sanction. I like the interpretation. I choose to believe it. 

So, I’ll be playing teen patti and blackjack with my card-shark nephews at the family dining table this evening. 

Happy Deepavali blog readers. May the odds be ever in your favour. May the bets you take work out. May the effulgent Goddess Lakshmi inhabit your homes forever.

Shiva and Parvati playing dice

Gumption, not grit, is the key to success

This popular TED talk by ex-management-consultant Angela Lee Duckworth reports that the key to success, in academics and in life, is...ta dah...grit. Not talent, but fighting spirit and the resilience to battle on despite setbacks. This feels like a limp conclusion, because Ms Duckworth doesn't know where grit comes from.

Gumption might be a more useful word that grit in this context. It includes grit, and it also captures a little bit of where the grit comes from. Gumption includes enthusiasm, an amateur's passion, that fuels grit and therefore resilience. And gumption can be made.

I first met the word gumption during my first term in college, when I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance several times over (when I really should have been studying calculus). One of Pirsig's examples has stayed with me since: making your own motorcycle parts builds gumption. 

I'm still constantly on the lookout for that sort of gumption, for a quiet heartfelt enthusiasm that runs deeper than the "look at me, I've worked so hard, I'm so cool, I really deserve a raise/bonus/ promotion" rhythm that is so pervasive today. I like TED talks, but TED talks are actually a part of this "I'm so cool" culture.

BTW, I also found this picture of Pirsig and his son Chris on their legendary road trip across America...thanks guys.

Pirsig and his son Chris, motorbiking across America

Should Mother Cricket have punished Michael Clarke for gallant/ stupid declaration?

Clarke and his team. Crushed? Or enough spirit left to learn?

I was in two minds yesterday, following the thrilling/ farcical denouement to the home Ashes. 

One part of me wanted to gods to reward Clarke for his gallant declaration. His spirit, his courage, his sense of adventure, kept the game alive right until the last ball. Most captains, at any level, would have settled for a draw. Surely that spirit deserves to be applauded, nurtured.

My less romantic side couldn't help thinking that Clarke's declaration wasn't gallant at all, it was merely stupid. Siddle, Harris, Faulkner and Lyon were never going to roll England over in one session of play. Even McGrath, Gillespie, Lee and Warne were highly unlikely to win this game. Clarke misjudged the situation. He was wildly over optimistic, and deserved to lose for his stupidity.

The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that my unromantic side is right. 

Clarke grew up in an invincible Aussie team. Somewhere deep inside he still thinks the Aussies are invincible. In reality, they're just an average team, with a losing habit. Clarke needs to teach his team to be hard to beat, before he can teach them to win. He has to do for Australia what Nasser Hussain once did for England. Until he realizes that that is his job, he is the wrong man to captain Australia. 

Clarke and umpire Dharmasena

As it turned out, Mother Cricket is more of a romantic than I am. She let Clarke off lightly with just a scare, with a bunch of boos rather than a crushing defeat. Looks like Mother Cricket wants to give Clarke a little more rope, to give him a chance to learn the art of Winning Ugly.

Pierre: the secret behind Novak Djokovic's mental toughness

Superstar Pierre Djokovic with his people

Novak Djokovic reveals the secret behind his mental toughness:

"When I lost to Nadal in that marathon match in Paris, I was feeling down, very, very disappointed in that moment. But when I came back to the house where we were staying, Pierre greeted me by jumping up at me, so pleased to see me. He put a smile back on my face."

...While playing at Wimbledon, Djokovic will steal precious moments walking with his girlfriend and Pierre in the park. ‘People stop to look at Pierre first,’ says Djokovic. ‘Then they see a beautiful woman with him and finally they see this guy who usually has a tennis racket in his hand. Pierre is the superstar here!’

Shadow wars, or the tragedy of Monty vs Monty

Monty Panesar celebrates with his England team mates

Whatever happened to Monty?

For years he was international cricket’s quietest, sweetest, most diffident player. He has lived through highs and lows: bowling England to glorious victories, being dropped by his county. The fans loved him, and mocked him. Through all those years, he had nothing but polite, respectful words for everybody, including the opposition. He responded to everything life threw his way with hard work, piety, discipline and “putting the ball in the right areas”.

And now? He is getting thrown out of nightclubs for misbehaving, and getting arrested for pissing on bouncers. Where did this other Monty come from?

My take is that the other Monty was always there, the other Monty is Monty's Shadow. 

The Shadow is a Jungian archetype. Having a Shadow is the inevitable consequence of having a Self. When the Self stands up in the light it naturally and inevitably casts a shadow, a distorted image of itself, that contains the less acknowledged, less developed, more vulnerable aspects of the personality.

Everybody has a Shadow. The real question is not whether Monty had a Shadow, but what Monty did with his Shadow. Like a lot of people-like-us, Monty suppressed his Shadow. He hid it away. He let his Shadow eat his disappointment, his shame, his humiliation, his anger, and came out to play with his game face on, radiating earnestness, belief, team-ship and optimism.

It worked, up to a point. Monty did play test cricket for England. But he remained a curiously mechanical, one-dimensional player. As Shane Warne acutely observed, “Monty hasn’t played thirty-three tests, he has played one test thirty-three times”. Monty was never creative. He was too distant from his Shadow.

Psychologists Barry Michels and Phil Stutz run a cult-practice in Hollywood, helping directors, screen-writers, agents and actors harness their Shadows. They see the Shadow as the key to creativity, in art, and in everything else. I heard about them from this New Yorker article:

As the liaison to the unconscious, Michels says, the Shadow is the source of all creativity and agility in life, business, and art, which he calls “flow.”

Barry Michels' Shadow

...Michels asks his patients to relate to the Shadow as something real, which can be coaxed from the cobwebbed lair of the unconscious into the physical world. The process, as he describes it, is spooky, a kind of daylight séance in which he plays the role of guide. 

In “The Tools,” Michels tells the story of “Jennifer,” a model who lobbies to get her child into a fifteen-thousand-dollar-a-year kindergarten but is too ashamed of her self-described “trailer trash” origins to talk to the other mothers, whom she views as “a superior race of Range-Rover-driving goddesses.” The secret to her crippling sense of inferiority lies with her Shadow, which she must accept and integrate into her public self. “I asked her to close her eyes,” Michels writes. He goes on:

“Go back to the parents’ meeting where you froze up; re-create all those shaky feelings you had.” She nodded. “Now, push the feelings out in front of you and give them a face and body. This figure is the embodiment of everything you feel insecure about.” I paused. “When you’re ready, tell me what you see.”

There was a long silence. Jennifer flinched suddenly, then blinked her eyes open. “Ugh,” she said grimacing. “I saw this 13 or 14 years old girl, overweight, unwashed. Her face was pasty and covered with zits . . . a complete loser.”

Jennifer had just seen her shadow.

In a similar sort of way, I think we’ve just seen Monty’s Shadow. Monty’s Shadow wants to make it with chicks at the nightclub. The Shadow wants to give it back to bullying bouncers. Monty doesn’t know how to, but his Shadow really wants to.

Stutz and Michels’ therapy is about discovering the Shadow, acknowledging it, giving it the respect you long for, and integrating the Shadow with the Self. From that viewpoint, it may not have been a bad thing for Monty’s Shadow to start finding expression. It might have helped him find his mojo, find creativity, re-kindle his career. After all, Monty isn’t much older now than Greame Swann was when he made his test debut (also a second coming).

Tragically, Monty’s Shadow seems to have taken control uninvited, at a moment when Monty’s Self was vulnerable, after having been dropped for the fourth test of the Ashes.

A night out with the lads would have been unremarkable for Swanny, Bressy, Broady or KP. It probably means the end of the road for Monty. I don’t think the cricket media have grasped this thought yet, they’re still taking the piss. But I’m finding it hard to imagine the England establishment forgiving Monty his trespasses. I wish he had had a more dignified farewell. I don’t think he will play another international.

But before Monty goes away, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on Monty’s golden moments: his first test wicket, Sachin Tendulkar in Nagpur 2005, the beauty he bowled Younis Khan with at Old Trafford in 2009, his match winning performance in Bombay in 2012. And this amazing one-handed diving catch, which I haven’t seen before, which is the most watched You tube video featuring Monty.

Maria Sharapova finding her way back to the top is special

Nike, one of Maria Sharapova’s main sponsors, just brought out a new advert to celebrate their girl’s return to grand slam glory and the #1 ranking. It reads “Those Who Belong at the Top Never Forget Their Way Back”. Nike have got the story the precisely the wrong way around. Maria’s return to the top after years in the wilderness is so thrilling, so heartening, because so many who belong at the top lose their footing momentarily, and then never find their way back. The complete narrative arc - of young glory, years in the wilderness, and a triumphant return – is rare. Returning to the top is even harder than staying at the top. The natural course is for young glory to melt away into a career of middling mediocrity, or worse.

Perhaps I’m conditioned to expect gifted youngsters to go slip-slidin’ away into nothing because of the scars I carry as a long-suffering supporter of the Indian cricket team.

Laxman Sivaramakrishnan

To me, one of the greatest moments in cricket history happened in the Benson and Hedges Cup finals at the MCG in 1985, when Javed Miandad was stumped by Sadanand Vishwanath off Laxman Sivaramakrishnan, to top off a glorious Australian campaign for both young men. India beat Pakistan, Sunil Gavaskar held aloft the trophy, the team lapped the MCG in Ravi Shastri’s Audi...all of creation was shouting out that the Sadanand and Siva belonged at the top. Yet, after that golden start, both Sadanand and LS tragically lost their way, like Maninder Singh, Raman Lamba, Surinder Amarnath, Vinod Kambli, Salil Ankola, Abey Kuruvilla, Vivek Razdan, Sadagoppan Ramesh, Praveen Amre and Narendra Hirwani, potentially like Yuvraj Singh, Irfan Pathan, Ishant Sharma and Sreesanth. I’m painfully used to seeing talented youngsters, who had glorious starts to their careers, burn out or fade away.

Tracy Austin

Tennis too has had its share of shining young stars who don’t go on to achieve very much. Tracy Austin once looked like Chris Evert’s heir. Chris Evert won eighteen slams, Tracy won her second and last grand slam when she was nineteen. Andrea Jeager, another of Chris Evert's heirs, didn’t manage even one. Gabriela Sabatini won just one slam, disappointing for someone long considered Steffi Graf's peer. Dinara Safina and Jelena Jankovic rose to world #1 and fell back into the pack without winning a single slam, Ana Ivanovic managed one. Anastasia Myskina pipped Maria Sharapova to become the first Russian to win a slam when she won the French Open in 2004, a month before Maria beat Serena Williams to win Wimbledon. Anastasia Myskina hasn’t won a slam since, and hasn’t played professional tennis since 2007.

There are exceptions, of course. Zaheer Khan returned from the wilderness to spearhead India to the #1 test ranking and the World Cup. Jennifer Capriati showed real character in winning three slams after kicking her well-reported drug problems. Kim Clisters is justly one of tennis’ favourite players, for coming back from retirement, and motherhood, to win back-to-back US Opens. Regardless, the pattern of young stars quickly fading away is strong and persistent.

So, when Maria Sharapova won back to-back slams in 2008, had shoulder surgery, and vanished from view, I assumed she was following that established pattern. This was an especially easy assumption to make about Maria, since she had every opportunity to follow in the footsteps of her compatriot Anna Kournikova, and settle for the plush life of an A-list celebrity, earning many millions endorsing designer handbags and wrist watches. I darkly suspect Caroline Wozniacki is making peace with that kind of mediocrity: she just launched a range of designer undergarments, branded the Caroline Wozniacki Collection.

Fortunately for tennis, Maria didn’t settle for mediocrity. She looked within, and said yeh dil maange more. Fortunately for tennis, Maria Sharapova found the spunk, the guts, the gumption and the game to deliver on her fierce desire. Ave Maria!

Peri Lyons' Psychic Technique: Radical Empathy

I hate fortune tellers. This feeling isn't mild, amused scepticism, but fierce antipathy, and comes from Indian upbringing. Back in India, fortune-tellers are not innocent fair-ground amusements. They are serious and powerful people, jyotishtis, seers who can divine the fates on account of their spiritual attainment. Conveniently, these seers can also intervene with the fates on a client's behalf, to prevent dark and dire events that have been foretold from coming to pass.

The conversation between the seer and the client develops along the lines "I see the possibility of a glorious future...but...I also see terrible dangers...the divinity x needs to be appeased with sop y ...to protect your loved ones from these dangers...". Sop y generally contributes to the jyotishti's well-being. The client gradually learns to be dependent on the seer and loses autonomy, as he wins her over with honest trifles and betrays her in matters of the deepest consequence. Divination becomes an extortion racket, reinforced by the Stockholm syndrome.

I find the extortion practiced by jyotishtis more distressing than the simple violent extortion practiced by gangland bosses or cops on the beat. These "god men" are preying on the sacred, on faith, on hope - on human faculties that could be so life-enhancing if they were not abused. So, in my moral hierarchy, fortune-tellers, psychics, seers, astrologers, soothsayers and their ilk fall below common or garden charlatans like Bernie Madoff or Adam Stanford. They sit closer to JRR Tolkien's Grima Wormtongue, whose murmurs and whispers rob Lord Theoden of Rohan of his vitality, or JK Rowling's dementors, killers who do their business not through violence but by robbing their victims of the will to live.  

This attitude is why I was surprised to find myself warming to a psychic I came across while flipping through a back issue of the New Yorker.

Peri Lyons

This is Peri Lyons, "the most expensive psychic in New York". She plays by certain rules. Rule #1 is "readings by Peri Lyons are for entertainment purposes only". Also, she only does "good stuff... I very rarely get "bad" stuff. Either I'm way too positive for that, or my spirit guides are really chicken." Those rules take the whole extortion racket out of the equation, thank God. But what I liked, rather than just didn't hate, was her psychic method.

Peri Lyons does not read the stars, or the entrails of animals, or ancient palm leaves or any such thing. She practices "radical empathy". If I've understood what that means, she does with her clients what a method actor does with a character. She gets into the skin of her subject, experiences what they experience, uses that insight to tell her subjects about themselves, and about any self-fulfilling beliefs that she senses. This is not in any way a mysterious or other-worldly faculty. I routinely do this as a sports fan, tuning into the players' psyche, trying to sense their commitment, intensity and confidence. A good psychic just does this tuning-in very well.

Courtney Love

One of Peri Lyons' good friends and client is Courtney Love, who, apparently, "doesn't do soothsayers". I have a hunch that for Courtney Love, the psychic service that matters is just plain empathy, rather than any sort of forecasting.

Peri Lyons also runs a popular class called "How To Be a Psychic Without Even Trying". Maybe Paul the Octopus was one of her graduates.   

Paul, the psychic octopus