Indian women’s team feels weight of expectations
The narrative of ‘winning hearts’ and ‘plucky girls’ around the Indian women’s team has moved into gender-neutral emotional investment. More people now care enough to get annoyed by their result
The Indian women’s cricket team is now officially in the washing machine. Or it could be said their circus has officially now pitched its tent. Defeat in the semi-final of the ICC Women’s T20 World Cup – after dominating the chase for ten overs against the most dominant team in world cricket – has been met by a maelstrom of more than just deep disappointment. This is not just about former captain Diana Edulji’s total demolition job of the Indian team or even social media harangues and complaints about the ungiven wide.

There is now a certain impatience about the Indian women’s response in clutch matches in big events. Why promising starts turn into collapsed souffles, why we field how we field, why the top order can’t bat through, why we don’t take twos rather than ambled ones. Edulji’s was a proper scolding but everyone feels a hair-tearing anguish. Why are we choking? That’s not choking. Okay, but why then after being so close…
To cricket watchers of a particular dotage these feels (to quote that unconfirmed Yogi Berra-ism) are “déjà vu all over again”. The over-35-ish Indian cricket fan has been there, seen that and come through on the other side, with that other Indian team circa mid-90s to early Noughties. The one that would huff and puff, make it to the deciders of bilaterals or finals of fizzy drink triangulars and quadrangulars only to go into final freefall disaster. Who either rode the Tendulkar wave or went into rapid shipwreck mode on the desolate beach of self-pity. When captain Harmanpreet Kaur said she couldn’t “feel unluckier than this,” one side of the brain wanted to start howling and bemoan the fates. The other wanted to get onto a pulpit, smash it into bits shouting what absolute bakwaas.
Before further surgical dissection, let’s take a moment and acknowledge that in the midst of this gut-wrenching T20 World Cup result, Indian women’s cricket is at a delectable point in its history. The familiar narrative of ‘winning hearts’ and ‘plucky girls’ around the Indian women’s team has moved into gender-neutral emotional investment. More people now care enough about Indian women’s cricket to get annoyed by their result. The opposite of love etc., etc., … This is beyond pay equity and WPL monies.
The tipping point of fan commitment has been crossed at this World Cup and we have gone from appreciative supportive observers to completely involved ‘what the hell!’ witnesses. The women are, in a manner of speaking, playing with the big boys now and therefore must be ready for an Edulji-degree open season. On their form, on their fitness, on their ability to handle pressure. It may appear a smidgeon of what Rohit Sharma’s team will face in their 50-over World Cup this October-November, but in the context of global women’s cricket, Harman & Co are already in a pressure chamber cranked up to the power of n.
What must also be noted is that over the last five years despite everything, the Indian women have made two ICC event finals, played a gold medal CWG match, won a U-19 World Cup and an Asia Cup. They have gone head to head, toe to toe and remain the strongest contenders to take down the two strongest teams in women’s cricket whose growth and professionalism trajectories are far ahead of the rest of the world. (After Friday’s heist standing ovation to the South African women for becoming the first South African team to entering an ICC World Cup final).
The reason the Indians are where they are despite being late starters on any professionalism index is because of the sheer quality and quantity of talent at their disposal.
Yet, the second successive ICC event knock-out defeat against Australia in six months in an identical manner is neither about talent nor is it about luck. Their ‘one-percenters’ and vital errors are so instantly recognisable that it’s tough to decide whether to cry or to take heart in the fact that India have a very visible, solvable problem.
Firstly, this women’s team is far better informed and resourced than the men’s team were in the post-fixing era. They don’t have to supply reasons why the data analyst must stay in their hotel not elsewhere. Or why the team physio cannot also be trainer, doctor and fielding drill supplier. Why those are in fact separate jobs. Sharpness in the field is the easiest cricketing skill to learn, which should lead to less easy singles to the opposition and quicker running between the wickets. “Some of our best players are our worst fielders” was once said about the men by their own coach. On record. Facts are facts, let’s sort this out.
Catching and direct hits are sharpened by practicing them to a repeat-rinse degree. Hundred perfect high catches a day or x number of direct hits. If there’s an error at No 99, it’s back to zero and off you go again. Athleticism may be innate, but on-field alertness and game awareness can be learnt. Pressure responses can only be internalised by more game time. Put them altogether over and over and the collective turning point will come.
A cricketer pal with whom I was chatting about this on Saturday used a word to describe Richa Ghosh‘s ability: ‘scary’. The word has been so often about the richness and depth of Indian cricket, said many times in many discussions about women’s cricket, like it had about the men. If India gets its act in order, its cricket team will be unbeatable.
Before his team’s final match in a T20 World Cup, outgoing coach Ravi Shastri said the team he had coached was “one of the great teams in the history of the game.” That Indian team sadly couldn’t make the knockouts. There cannot be a better opportunity for that notion to be challenged, countered and overcome by another Indian team. That’s how good our women have the power to be.
