Take one, Trent Bridge. Sourav Ganguly is standing at the nets, smiling and yelling indulgently as Irfan Pathan smacks one of the practice bowlers into the horizon. Switch to the Brit Oval. Ganguly, looking serious, is striding across the ground with two bats in hand, examining both intently early on match day. We switch again to Lord's, where the Indian skipper is playing a vintage knock --- superbly timed elegance is interspersed with strokes that leave the fielders bemused. His 90 is a knock of determination and power, something that is quintessential Ganguly.
On Thursday, two days before India take on Kenya in the first of their Champions Trophy encounters and before Friday's rains, Ganguly was walking alone around the peaceful environs of the nursery ground adjacent to the Rose Bowl under a benevolent afternoon sun. He had just finished practice at the spinner's net, where after a couple of minutes, he had held up an authoritative hand and stopped the two practice bowlers from bowling at him. Till then, they had been bowling at the other players along with India's spin twins. But Ganguly wanted just Harbhajan and Kumble.
He muttered to himself through his batting, kept up an intermittent conversation with Harbhajan, finished and then walked off. The tread was purposeful, even though he didn't seem to be going anywhere particular. He seemed instead in an unusually reflective mood and thereafter, preferred to watch what his flock was up to. There was no exchange of pleasantries with the people nearby. He just stood with hands on hips and watched.
