It’s time we redefined greatness.
Cricket aficionados would still be circumspect about assigning greatness to Rishabh Pant, parading the usual arguments to justify themselves. Isn’t it too early to judge him? Does he have a pile of runs comparable to earlier greats of the game? Doesn’t he have that suicidal streak of recklessness? Valid points; it’s hard to disagree with them. Unless you have a close look at his 125-run knock at Manchester and rethink the idea of greatness itself.
Greatness, in the commonplace paradigm, is a product of statistics. For a batsman, it is the number of runs he accumulates during his career, with centuries and fifties thrown in. The longevity of a career and consistency across it are essential factors here. The same goes for a bowler. But statistics is a blind guide; while delivering bland numbers, it misses the nuances and drama that make sport a lively, thrilling experience. Numbers won’t ever catch the tension when Pant arrived at the crease at Manchester or Edgbaston or the circumstances under which he delivered in Australia a year earlier. They won’t mention a million prayers among cricket lovers wishing the next player to create magic and conjure victory out of a hopeless situation. Neither would they describe the sense of expectation and despondency in the team dug-out.
Statistics is about numbers, not value. How does it explain the true worth of Hardik’s score in the last one-dayer? It won’t reveal the conditions under which his knock of 71 came about. It won’t ever tell how such knocks at critical moments have been more important for the team’s victories. Under a new paradigm, the concept of greatness should be less serious about longevity or runs/wickets accumulated; it should take into account impact as a critical element. If only we had a way to quantify match situations and weave these numbers into a player’s statistics!
The existing paradigm is unforgiving of recklessness, which easily translates into being irresponsible. According to conventional wisdom, great players are those who read the match situation well and play accordingly. They should be risk-averse when the going is tough for the team and go ballistic when the situation so demands. But for the outsider, there’s no way of telling between reckless batting and calculated risk-taking; it’s solely in the head of the player involved; in the way, he perceives his chances. It’s a percentage game, which might or might not yield the desired result. But the more it does, the better it is for the team.
The way Pant launches unpredictable attacks on bowlers may appear sheer madness. Isn’t he importing the high-risk elements of Twenty20 cricket into Tests and one-dayers? Yes, he is. But other players adopting the same approach have not been as successful. What misses the eye is the method in the madness. He is a master of those shots with incredible control while executing them. That cuts down the element of risk by several notches. Moreover, he unsettles the rhythm of bowlers with such an approach, forcing them to alter their line and length, and the thought process.
The method in Rishabh Pant’s batting may not deliver the goods all the time, but, as evidenced so far, it would cause a surprise turnaround even in the most difficult of situations. The old paradigm, fixated on the notion of responsibility, won’t quite capture the utility of recklessness. Pant’s recent knocks are a reminder that we should relook at this paradigm.
Perhaps it is proper we add the match-winning ability to the construct of greatness. Pant, given his style, may not end up among the biggest run-makers in world cricket, contemporary or past. But he is certain to win more matches single-handed than most of them. His exploits are likely to spawn a breed of cricketers who would be known for their impact. Hope one day statistical tools would find a way to account for that. So far, greatness has been defined from the perspective of individuals; it’s time to add the perspective of the team too.
