Sourav Ganguly - A Century Is Not Enough

A Century Is Not Enough

A Century Is
Not Enough

Sourav Ganguly
with
Gautam Bhattacharya

JUGGERNAUT BOOKS

KS House, 118 Shahpur Jat, New Delhi 110049, India First published by Juggernaut Books 2018

Copyright Sourav Ganguly 2018

The views and opinions expressed in this book are the authors own.
The facts contained herein were reported to be true as on the date of publication by the author to the publishers of the book, and the publishers are not in any way liable for their accuracy or veracity.

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publisher.

ISBN 9789386228567

Typeset in Adobe Caslon Pro by R. Ajith Kumar, New Delhi Printed at Manipal Technologies Ltd

To the memory of my father, my immediate family and all the players I have played with

This book is also dedicated to Jagmohan Dalmiya with respect and love. He is no longer with us I wish he could have read this book.

Contents

Cricket was very important in my life, probably its most important aspect. By the grace of God, I could pursue what I wanted and make a career out of it. Playing this game for a long period gave me a life, financially and professionally. It gave me recognition, a place among the successful in society, and most important a tremendous amount of self-confidence. Cricket may be a sport to some, but to me it was life and very close to my heart.

During the course of my playing career it was not just the runs and wickets that were important yes, they were but I had to perform to play for that long. In my journey of success and failure, cricket taught me much about life, which I want to share with you in this book. From the outside most people see the adulation and hero worship but what escapes attention is the mind within. The tough periods, the important phases where you are just a little bit down, at times at painful crossroads it happens to the best. At those points it is important how you react. They say there is no backward step in life. For me there wasnt. And this was something sport taught me.

Sport poses many challenges along the way and it teaches you to take tough decisions in life, which is crucial for longevity in sport. In this book I hope to show you the real challenge in sport. It is a fascinating challenge. A challenge that is worth taking. Always take the challenging path. You will end up a winner.

It was Durga Puja. As with all Bengalis, its my favourite festival.

Our para Puja pandal is just a stones throw from my house. Every year, I would not just visit it and offer my prayers but also play the occasional dhak, distribute prasad to the public and even do a bit of dhunuchi dancing during evening arati.

I knew that I was being watched as I celebrated. That there were people taking photos as I danced and played the drum. But I couldnt care less. During the Puja I was just like everyone else the local para boy enjoying his favourite festival with all the glee of boyhood.

I am so hooked to the Pujas that I make it a point to always accompany the deity on her final ride. In Bengali there is a semi-tragic word for it bisharjon. This is when the deity is immersed in the Ganga. The scene is amazing the energy is sky-high, the crowds full of joy and sorrow at seeing Durga Ma going away, its truly memorable. The area around the river is so crowded that once, during my Indian captaincy days, I decided to go disguised as one of Harbhajans tribe. Yes, disguised as a sardarji.

Now I could have been mobbed big time. The situation could have gone out of control. But the thrill of accompanying the para boys and family members on the truck carrying the deity was just too irresistible.

My wife, Dona, had arranged for a make-up artist to come home to turn me from a hardcore Bengali into a convincing-looking Sikh. My cousins all mocked me, saying I would be recognized. I gave as good as I got and took up the challenge.

They turned out to be right. I was not allowed on the truck by the police and had to follow it in our car with my daughter, Sana. As the car reached the Babughat area the police inspector peered in through the window, looked closely at me and smiled gently in recognition. I was embarrassed but asked him to keep my secret. The escapade was worth it. The immersion scene around the river is just indescribable. You have to see it to understand it. Durga Ma, after all, comes only once a year.

Little did I know that the toughest decision of my life was to be announced on a Puja day in 2008. On Mahastami, when celebrations are usually at their peak, two days before the Bengaluru Test, I took part in a press conference. There I announced that I would retire from international cricket at the end of the series, after the last Test match in Nagpur. The bisharjon was still two days away but I had decided to bring an end to my cricketing career. It was The End, as they say in the movies. I was so emotionally drained that the Pujas that year passed me by in a blur. I dont remember a thing.

Almost a decade has gone by. Yet journalists and the Kolkata press still gossip about the events leading to my decision and what I felt at the time. Surely I couldnt have felt as decisive and calm as I appeared that Mahastami day. Even this week as I write this, a close journalist friend asked me with a raised eyebrow, Come on, you dont expect me to believe that after so much trauma you did not cry after playing the last innings in Nagpur?

I replied, no. I dont shed tears. I did not cry even at my fathers death. Most of you, like my friend, wont believe me. Sourav is not telling the truth, youll be saying to yourself. But some of you will be nodding your head in agreement. You know my type. We are a minority who tend to think tears are the easy way out of sadness. But dont let our masks fool you. Maybe its because we hold our emotions in check that they remain within us even more. We look tough on the outside, but inside we bleed.

The events of that summer afternoon in 2008 still remain a raw wound for me. I was going for practice at Eden Gardens and had almost reached Fort William, which was just two minutes away. Suddenly my mobile rang. The caller happened to be a journalist. He had heard the news that I had been left out of the Rest of India squad, which is a clear indicator of how the selectors feel about you.

I had been dropped? The Asian batsman and player of the year left out from a Rest of India team? After having scored consistently for India in the last three and a half years? But why? It couldnt have been my performance as I had only failed in one series in Sri Lanka where, apart from one batsman, none of my colleagues had done well. Yet they had all got picked.

I was angry. Disillusioned.

Hanging up, I told the driver to turn back and go home. I was in no mood to practise. This made it clear to me that my chances of playing for India were now pretty low. My driver was unsure. He hesitantly looked at me, as if to get a final confirmation. My face must have said it all he turned the car around quietly. I reached home and sat in front of the television, wondering to myself, whats next?

People talk about the pluses of being a successful sportsman. The fame, the money and the high that it brings. Not many understand the tough side of the lives of sportsmen. Not only does age catch up with you but even after a glittering career you continue to be judged by others. This scrutiny decides your fate.

Never forget that through their career sportsmen often have only a single option for work. Rejection from national selectors or the cricket team closes all doors. Most of you can switch jobs. If you are not happy with the Ambanis, you can apply to the Tatas. If the Tatas reject you, you can try Infosys. The paths are many. For us cricketers, we have only one job. India placement. There is no other job. It is simple India or nothing.