Aggression, in the Indian imagination, has to be in your face. It has to involve a lot of explosive words and physicality which must reflect in the body language. Being emotionless and being aggressive at the same time does not work for us. Thus the heroes in our movies have to be all sound and fury. Our leaders have to deliver dialogues with combative punchlines. And we love aggressive leaders, don’t we? Former Indian skipper Saurav Ganguly fit into this mould to some degree. He was and still is adored by millions of cricket fans for the attitude he displayed.
Mahendra Singh Dhoni was polar opposite as a personality type. His aggression was controlled and calculated, just the way his batting was. The lack of emotions in his case could be read as indifference. Not even a smirk registered on his face when the bowlers got belted in critical moments of a tense match or a batsman at the opposite end got out playing a reckless shot. He carried on dispassionately to finish the task at hand. Perhaps this approach — winning as a task that had to be completed — set him apart from all other captains in contemporary cricket. No wonder, it won him the epithet ‘Captain Cool’.
Being a finisher is not easy. It brings the man concerned under a lot of scrutiny. He carries the expectation of a billion people on his shoulders. If he fails, he becomes immediate target of public scorn. If he secures a victory for the team then he turns into an instant hero, building more expectation among people for the next outing. No other role in cricket is riskier. It not only requires skills of exceptional order but also nerves of steel. A person with a weak heart would slink away. Not so Dhoni. He made the risk his own. It takes courage. He could well be called ‘Captain Courage’.
A leader of men is a different proposition in politics or any other public role than in team sport. In the case of the former one can get away with being a backroom player, not so in case of the latter where one has to lead by example. One must perform consistely well among players of similar ability to earn respect. Dhoni could win matches on his own, a feat he repeated umpteen times in his different roles as wicketkeeper and batsman. Simply put, one has to be a player first in a team of players. He was among the best in any combination of team members whether or not as captain.
Aggression can mean different things in different contexts and in different personalities. Was Rahul Dravid an aggressive player? Many would scoff at the suggestion. But if you equate aggression with grit, determination and the will to wear the opposition out, then he would count as one. So would Anil Kumble. Their aggression is hardly in your face, but their tenacity of purpose leaves no doubt that opponents would be wary of them more than other flashy players around. Dhoni’s aggression could be compared to their attitude. He never gave up, fighting till the end. If there are 16 runs to be scored in the last over for a win, only he could build mass anticipation of a victory. He didn’t allow the Indian cricket fan to give up either.
He was aggressive without being overtly so. He needed no punchlines or furious movement of the limbs. He created his own definition for the term.
As a bright career ends, how do we judge MS Dhoni? A small town boy from Jharkhand who made it big? A middle class youth who broke the class barrier to strike it rich? The captain who gave India two World Cup crowns or a leader of men who made the word impossible irrelevant? There may be many more ways to explain the phenomenon that he was. Yes, nothing would be less than appropriate.
To end, goodbye MS, you made us happy.
