His meagre form this tournament is a reflection of his world cup record where he has looked mortal (just one hundred) as opposed to his Fab Four occupants Virat Kohli, Joe Root and Kane Williamson.
Underneath the Jagmohan Dalmiya Stands, a bunch of youngsters and on-duty policemen had excitedly flocked behind the freshly-painted iron fence. For an hour or so, they barely moved from their perch, rarely shouted or clapped, but watched as though hypnotized, every move of Steve Smith in the practice nets, as though they were into a world unto themselves and Smith, soaking in the manoeuvres of a generational great.
The Australia batting figurehead was in a world unto himself, oblivious to the skin-peeling humidity, the chatter of his teammates and in a single-minded devotion to rediscover the golden touch that has evaded him this World Cup. This has been a workman-like World Cup for him—he has been in the shadows of those around him, he has staggered unnoticed and unsung. Only Ricky Ponting and David Warner are ahead of him as his county’s all-time run-getters in the global tournament—1102 runs at 44.08—but this instalment, four of his colleagues have scored more runs than him. He has scratched and scraped for runs, he has looked mortal, just one of those many batsmen in yellow and green, and wielding no spectacular aura. In a sense, it’s a reflection of his World Cup career—a tournament where he has looked mortal (just one hundred) as opposed to his Fab Four occupants Virat Kohli, Joe Root and Kane Williamson.
Whereas he has not looked utterly out-of-touch, he has not looked absolutely divine, operating in a mid-pitch frequency, not inaudible but not sparklingly clear either. Arguably the most competent player of spin bowling around, but being troubled by spinners this tournament. Before his unbeaten 63 against Bangladesh, he had averaged only 15.40 against spinners. A strange curse that began with Ravindra Jadeja flummoxing with a corker in Chennai, the twirly-men have consumed him four more times in six innings. Not all were as stunning as the Jadeja land-on-leg-and-hit-the-off pearler. Almost all derived from him trying to attack them than block, often a case of him misjudging the speeds of the bowler as well as that of the pitch that any sudden vulnerability that has crept into his batting.
But Smith is among the most diligent problem-solvers in the game; the rise to the pinnacle of Test-match batting owes to his ability to detect the cracks in his technique and approach and shut it out permanently. Smith himself had once dwelled on the aspect of batting that fuels him the most: “For me, one of my big strengths and joys is being able to adapt on the go and understand what they (bowlers) are trying to do and sort of solve the problem out in the middle.”
So went about his redemption business in characteristically methodical fashion. An assortment of spinners were summoned to the nets on a roughed-up pitch, a mosaic of black splotches revealing the black-soil underneath.
For the first quarter, he would just keep defending on the back-foot, moving with the turn, playing late. Some of the balls were short, some other full, but he would still defend and shout at them to bowl on good length, one that has posed him much trouble. A left-arm spinning net-bowler was particularly engaged—the threat of Keshav Maharaj clearly buzzing in his mind. He was of similar frame, but without Maharaj’s magnificent drift. To simulate the drift, he would advise the spinner to bowl wider off the crease and exaggerate the angle.
Bored of blocking, Smith threw all caution to the wind whistling past the open Dhan Singh Thapa Stand from the Hooghly. He would sashay down the track with mean-eyed purpose and flat-bat him down the ground, he would sweep and once reverse-swept him too, off the length. The shuffle down the track met with cheers from his teammates. A fundamental part of his attacking game against the spinners in Tests, he has been bizarrely reluctant to step out to them in this tournament. The game against India would have been the culprit again, as the Indian spinners often beat him in the flight, only to be rescued by his pliant hands.
Oftentimes, he has looked too rigid at the crease—a telltale sign of his good form is staying loose and flexible, especially the lower body. In the Bangladesh knock, he seemed to have revived some of his loose-limberness. One stroke he unpacked in the nets demonstrated that he had reached the vicinity of his peak form (or was it just a shot from the past?) Josh Hazlewood sprayed a short ball and he coiled for the pull. But the ball kept short but he still went with the shot, contorting himself almost in an S-shape, dropping his knees and waist and swivelling low to thump the ball towards mid-wicket. The mesmerized crowd could not stifle their excitement and screamed in joy.
Source:indianexpress.com