India has been on tenterhooks for Sachin Tendulkar’s 100th century for the past five months, but over the past few days the Little Master has been upstaged for newsworthiness, as it were, by his long forgotten school friend.
Vinod Kambli’s disclosure that the 1996 World Cup semi-final could have been fixed has predictably thrown the cat amongst the pigeon. The media has been sent in a tizzy, the cricket establishment looks at a loss for words — never mind the dismissive sounds made by senior functionaries — and sports minister Ajay Maken, not to be left out when it comes to taking on the BCCI, has asked for a probe.

That corruption existed — and perhaps still does — in cricket is now widely accepted by even the most diehard fan. It is no secret either that international cricket passed through a particularly distressing and sordid period in the 1990s and early 2000 — as even Baron Paul Condon, former chief of the ICC’s Anti Corruption Unit has revealed in a recent interview.
It is pertinent to note that Condon tarnishes most teams in this interview, not merely those from the sub-continent, as is widely projected. Be that as it may, one of the stellar players who came under the scanner when the Delhi police accidentally stumbled on a telephone conversation between Hansie Cronje and an Indian bookie in circa 2000 was Mohammad Azharuddin who was banned for life by the BCCI, a decision he is still contesting legally.
In a broad perspective, therefore, it is not impossible that something was amiss in all matches played in that era, the 1996 World Cup semi-final included. But after years of trying to tackle the menace, I would believe allegations must be supported through substantial evidence, not innuendo or insinuation. Cricket has suffered far too much to leave loose ends dangling in such matters.
For example, India’s World Cup final match in 2003 was no less disastrous than the 1996 semi-final. The team had done splendidly to reach that far against expectation and all experts agreed that batting first was the thing to do on the Johannesburg pitch for the final. Instead, India fielded first, were belted all over the park by Ricky Ponting and failed quite badly to score the 350-plus target.
The texture of this game is such that it is almost impossible to know a genuine mistake from a contrived one unless there is sufficient evidence to suggest the latter. In hindsight and replays, most collapses look silly, dropped catches and run-outs avoidable and defeat even more difficult to digest. Without basic belief sport — given its vicissitudes — would be impossible to play or accept.
Kambli alleges that the Indian team batted first in the 1996 semi-final when every indication was to the contrary. This has found no corroboration from any of the other players who were part of that match. Then captain Azharuddin has obviously become the butt of suspicion but he claims it was a collective decision which has been vindicated in part by then coach Ajit Wadekar, left-arm spinner Venkatpathy Raju, and batsman Sanjay Manjrekar who tweeted about it when the controversy broke.
Whether Kambli is talking through his hat or has something substantive to offer is, of course, the million dollar question. That he is a maverick personality is well known. His revelation was accompanied with high melodrama and copious tears, quite pointlessly, puts further strain on his credibility. In itself, however, this should not be a reason to be dismissive of his charge.
Indeed a probe may not be entirely unwarranted, though the crux is how and with whom it should begin. Perhaps best done with Kambli himself, asking him why he kept slept through 15 years, a la Rip Van Winkle, while inquiries and commissions came and went and the entire cricket world agonised on what more he knows. After all, this is a serious matter to which millions of people want closure, not an evening’s entertainment.