Book review | The Miracle Makers: This surreal, all-too-real story simply had to be told

Images of Ajinkya Rahane responding to 36 all out with a series-turning century will be etched in cricket lovers' memory for ever

‘One hour of madness’. How often have we not heard this phrase in cricket

One hour of madness in New Delhi last month perhaps cost Australia a shot at a rare Test series win in India. On the ascendancy at that stage, Australia swept to their doom on the third morning in a crazy passage of play, putting on a masterclass in the art of frittering away the advantage.

One hour of madness in Adelaide two-and-a-quarter years back ushered in the darkest chapter in Indian history, a nadir from where there seemed no way back up after they were bowled out for their lowest Test score, also on the third morning of the pink-ball, day-night Test.

The Miracle Makers, By Bharat Sundaresan and Gaurav Joshi; Penguin; 240 pages;Rs 399.00

India’s remarkable rise from the depths of 36 all out to one of the most famous series victories of all time is the stuff of legend. Even in isolation, to find the fortitude and wherewithal to claw back from the debilitating blow to morale and confidence in an alien land was commendable. When viewed against the larger canvas of the pandemic-induced bio-security protocols, the constant loss of key personnel through injuries and the necessity of having to ask boys to immediately graduate to men with little warning or preparatory time, the 2-1 series victory against a full-strength Australian team in Australia in their summer of 2020-21 will be impossible to emulate, let alone surpass.

That series Down Under, when India looked down and out in less than three of the scheduled 20 days of action, threw up one hero after another. It was a victory of India’s resilience and their bench strength, of their character and unflagging spirit. It was a victory of inspired, inspirational leadership from stand-in captain Ajinkya Rahane, and of the relentless infusion of positivity from the coaching staff, with the mercurial head coach Ravi Shastri at the forefront. It was a victory of epic proportions, a victory that reiterated India’s standing in world cricket, a victory that will shine through as a beacon of hope and desire in the darkest, densest fog of self-doubt and adversity.

Time has done little to blunt the sharpest images from that epochal journey. Images of Rahane responding to 36 all out with a series-turning century in the next game in Melbourne, from where he would lead the team for the rest of the series after Virat Kohli returned to India on paternity leave. Images of Rishabh Pant unleashing mayhem and carnage at the SCG and the Gabba, instilling such visible fear in the opposition ranks that one wondered if this was really Australia, unshakeable Australia, at the receiving end. Images of R Ashwin and Hanuma Vihari defying pain and pressure and going above and beyond the call of duty to bat for more than three and a half hours each and secure a memorable draw in Sydney, the precursor to an unprecedented triumph in Brisbane ten days later. Images of Cheteshwar Pujara riding blows to limb and body, a punch-drunk boxer who swayed and wobbled and stumbled and stuttered, but who would simply not go down.

The story of that wondrous journey of the surreal and the all-too-real simply had to be told. Preferably by people who were there to witness first-hand arguably the greatest series of all time. Fortunately, among the very few that did have the privilege of watching Don Quixote tilting at the windmills was the enterprising duo of Bharat Sundaresan and Gaurav Joshi, who have done their best to relive those exhilarating weeks through The Miracle Makers.

That they had access – primarily but not only virtually – to most of the central characters of this incredible tale lends greater gravitas and depth to a labour of love that sometimes seems mired in too much detail and exaggerated hero-worship, but that provides behind-the-scenes insights and revelations which compensate for the occasional shortcoming. Sundaresan began his cricket-writing career in Mumbai before moving to Australia, and Adelaide, in 2018; naturally gregarious and always true to his flamboyant self, he therefore has been able to glean information and inputs from both camps, though there is an understandably distinct Indian slant to the narrative because, after all, this was, is and will continue to remain Indian Test cricket’s brightest hour.

A focussed approach only towards the cricket would have been both self-defeating and slightly mundane because what happened on the field was there for the world to see. It’s in throwing light on what happened off the park, much of which influenced what transpired on it, that Sundaresan and Joshi, who worked in the IT industry for a decade before translocating to freelance sports journalism, have hit the right notes.

Their relationship with Shastri and then bowling coach Bharat Arun, two of the many off-field heroes of that tour, forms the basis for many pithy revelations that have otherwise only sporadically, and not with any great authority, made it to platforms of public consumption. One can say from experience that to be in a position to gather credible information on planning and preparation from the horse’s mouth is an increasingly rare luxury in Indian cricket. To Sundaresan and Joshi’s credit, they have been able to extract everything that went into making the 2-1 scoreline possible, though over time, they might feel that they need have not crammed too many details within the framework of a 213-page effort devoid of even a single visual, most certainly by choice.

The concerted and successful effort to set the stage for what’s to follow by elaborating on the security protocols in place during the peak of the pandemic, and by throwing light on the frustrations of the players from time to time, might appear an obvious starting point. But as the world continues to try to move on from the pandemic, it’s as if through an admixture of the conscious and the sub-conscious, we have almost forgotten what it was like back then. The challenges for competitive sportspersons, accustomed to letting off steam through practice and training, having to sit cooped up inside matchbox-sized hotel rooms, unable to even trot over to a teammate’s pad, is impossibly hard to imagine. The Miracle Makers deals with that empathetically and with feeling without lapsing into the dramatic, another plus for a book that delivers almost as much as it promises – and that doesn’t happen too often, let’s not forget.