The Greatest Trick MS Dhoni Played
“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.”
That line is usually attributed to Charles Baudelaire, though he almost certainly wasn’t the first to say something on those lines. Mahendra Singh Dhoni is no devil, but it’s hard to think of any marquee cricketer in the game’s history who was more elusive. We saw Dhoni everywhere — on the field, on screens, on billboards — but we never really knew him. Books have been written and Bollywood movies made, but aside from selected vignettes, we’re really not much wiser about the man behind the enigma.
As I look back over a career that unfolded mostly in front of my eyes, I’m convinced that the greatest trick Dhoni ever played was convincing us that he didn’t care. About Test cricket, overseas records and the many other sticks used to beat him with as his captaincy reign slowly unravelled after the 2011 World Cup.
At the time, his remarks could be infuriating, but now with distance and perspective, they begin to make sense. After a loss at Edgbaston in 2011, Dhoni was asked about India’s struggles in conditions where the ball swung and seamed. His reply was on the lines of not being unduly fussed about it. “We play about 70 per cent of our cricket in familiar [spin-friendly] conditions,” he said.
There was nothing factually wrong with that response, but the immediate impression was of someone who didn’t care enough. But looking back, maybe it was the only answer he could have given. The generation of batsmen who had taken India to №1 were all on the wrong side of the hill. With the notable exception of Rahul Dravid, they had a miserable series. Dhoni knew their time was up, but respected them too much to make public remarks about it. His glib responses instead ensured that he and not they became the lightning rod for criticism.
It was no different in 2014. After a bright start to the series, including a famous victory in the second Test at Lord’s, India disintegrated like a paper boat in the monsoon rain. The two men expected to be the cornerstones of the batting — Virat Kohli and Cheteshwar Pujara — both had shocking tours, with Kohli aggregating 134 runs across ten innings. Dhoni would not throw them under the bus though, again making light of India’s difficulties when he had to front up to the microphones.
There was also the visit to the Metropolitan Police’s shooting range on an optional practice day before the final Test at The Oval. With his team 2–1 down in the series, it was cited as another example of a leader who just didn’t care enough. Or maybe it was a captain who knew that if he drew attention to himself, those that had failed abjectly would escape some scrutiny.
For someone who allegedly wasn’t bothered, Dhoni fought with the intensity of those in the military fatigues he loves to wear. India lost both the last two Tests by an innings inside three days, and his refusal to submit was just about the only consolation. At Old Trafford, where India totted up six ducks in the first innings, the scoreboard showed 8 for 4 when he came to the crease. He finished with 71 out of 152, keeping a highly skilled seam attack at bay for 200 minutes.
It was utterly unorthodox batting with the guard often on off stump and well outside the crease, and he used everything from delicate deflections to tennis-forehand slaps to get the score moving. For all his jumpiness at the crease, there would inevitably be stillness at the moment he met the ball — the hallmark of a special player.
There was a repeat performance at The Oval where he took the score from 28 for 4 to 148 before being last man out for 82. The next-highest score was Murali Vijay’s 18. If Dhoni genuinely didn’t care, this was a funny way of showing that indifference.
Indifference was the word that epitomised Dhoni’s attitude to the media after the 2007 World Cup. It, after all, is the opposite of love. Again, I wonder just how different the Dhoni persona might have been without the lynch mob mentality that greeted the players when they returned home from the Caribbean after being knocked out of the World Cup in the first round.
The nauseating scapegoat culture established by shows like Match ka Mujrim had taken root by then, and Dhoni with his flamboyantly streaked long hair became an easy and obvious target. It wasn’t that he became surly or rude after a mob attacked the house that his family was constructing in Ranchi, but the impish sense of mischief disappeared, to be seen again only by those part of his small inner circle.
When times were good, as with the ascent to the №1 ranking in Tests and winning the World Cup in 2011, he never went overboard with the celebrations. Having seen first-hand how his heroes had been savaged in 2007, he wanted no part of the artificial hype. That’s why it was such a surprise to see the thin-skinned, ultra-nationalist version of Dhoni that was on view during the World Twenty20 in 2016. Till then, it had often seemed that all the criticism just deflected off a mask thicker than Iron Man’s.
The other thing I won’t ever forget is the confidence that came so easily to him. Our very first interaction was in the stands at Chepauk in 2005, a couple of days before his Test debut against Sri Lanka. I had watch him grab the limelight in the ODI series against Pakistan months earlier, but we had never had a chat. Given the opportunity to shoot off a few questions — we were a small group of journalists — I thought I’d find out more about his goalkeeping exploits in school.
“I’m bored of answering those questions,” he told me, with a directness that you simply didn’t expect from a newcomer. But that was Dhoni. From beginning to end, the interactions were very much on his terms. Even a press conference could be steered in the direction he wanted it to, whether it was with a candid quote, a funny quip or that nearly goofy smile.
Dhoni’s ability to find his feet and a comfort zone in any situation was one of the things had that had impressed Greg Chappell the most. Some reckless strokeplay in a Test loss to England in Mumbai (March 2006) had resulted in the first sustained volley of criticism, but once that series was over [India won the ODIs 5–1], Chappell spoke frankly about the journeys that the likes of Dhoni and Sreesanth had to undertake.
“Some of these guys have had very little [first-class] cricket,” he said. “Sreesanth has had very few games in a Plate team [Kerala]. Dhoni too [for Jharkhand]. Their development has been incredible. They’ve been challenged with things they’ve never seen before. You don’t get three international-class fast bowlers in a Plate team.”
Both in terms of temperament and skills, Dhoni adapted far quicker than most. “Who’ve you ever seen hit an attempted yorker for six before?” asked Chappell. “I don’t know anyone in the world who could pick a ball out of the blockhole and hit it for six. He’s an awesome talent. Some days, he will stuff up. That’s part of learning.”
He didn’t just learn, but he imparted much of that knowledge to another generation of cricketers. Watching Dhoni with his bowlers at times was a bit like observing a mother hen and her brood. He would go into the most minute detail when instructing them. When you look at the pace riches that India possess now, it’s tempting to wonder what Dhoni could have done with them once his Test team started losing its way. Zaheer Khan was nearly 30 when Dhoni took over as captain. Munaf Patel had started to burn out, and Sreesanth was too mercurial. Irfan Pathan was already fading, and Praveen Kumar and RP Singh didn’t have more than cameo impacts.
Dhoni kept faith in Ishant Sharma when few did, and it’s his successor that has mainly reaped the rewards of that. He won a World Twenty20 with Joginder Sharma bowling the final over, and made household names of Manpreet Gony, Deepak Chahar and Shardul Thakur. If he believed in you, he backed you to the hilt, perhaps a legacy of those early days when Chappell encouraged him to just go out and do his thing.
Over the past couple of years, the debates have raged about whether Dhoni had overstayed his welcome. Such black-and-white judgments often missed one vital aspect. Veteran players can’t be judged on performances alone. Having Dhoni in the dressing room didn’t just equate to a certain number of runs, catches and stumpings. It added years of experience to the group, and provided an invaluable sounding board for his captain.
Dhoni used to say the same of Tendulkar in his twilight seasons, and only those completely ignorant of the dynamics of sports teams would have doubted that defence. Now, aside from the IPL in a bio-secure environment later this year, there are no more microphones to sit behind, no more inane or controversial questions to answer. No justifications, no vindications. Just satisfaction at a career well played, one which brought smiles and explosions of pride to millions of people.
After the semi-final defeat at the 2015 World Cup, his last global tournament as 50-overs skipper, Dhoni offered brief insight into his philosophy. “What people think about me as a player or what I have done, it doesn’t really matter, because I play for the enjoyment of the game,” he said. “The day I pack my bags, I’ll be happy on my bike.”
Thank you for the ride, MS. It was epic.
The Interview Series — Sachin Tendulkar