Any takers for one man’s army?

Sourav Ganguly’s legions of supporters have accused John Buchanan of ‘emotional atyachar’, as it were. Having multiple captains will reduce their bold dada into a self-doubting Hamlet, they argue.

The anguish of the diehard Ganguly fan is understandable for he is a cult figure, and primarily for his captaincy. Moreover, to dilute his powers is to strike not only at Ganguly, but the game at its core. But the Kolkata Knight Riders have thrown up an interesting debate nonetheless about leadership — and not necessarily restricted to cricket — by hitting conventional logic for a six.

Change is the only constant goes the old axiom with the longest shelf life and greatest truth value, but even by that yardstick, this is pretty radical stuff. Cricket captains have traditionally enjoyed a suzerainty and status that is unmatched in any other sport. In theory (though not always in practice), he has unfettered powers — much like that of a company managing director. Reduce those powers, and will his efficacy not be reduced?

Buchanan’s argument is that in New Age cricket, driven by Twenty20, diluting the onus on one man will in fact enhance the productivity of the collective effort. In effect, this subscribes to the theory of flat hierarchies and situational leadership: there is no captain in the traditional sense, but every one can be a captain if he seizes the situation according to his skill sets and his designated role.

Buchanan cites reduced time span and extraordinary pace of Twenty20 in opting for structured, rather than spontaneous captaincy still necessary (he admits) in one-day internationals and Tests. As in other team sports of short duration like soccer, hockey and basketball (in which, incidentally captains can be substituted) the strategic inputs have to be largely predetermined in T20, and the job of the players would be to go out and perform to the best of their ability.

This concept is not entirely unknown. For instance, when a company is expanding, the mergers and acquisitions specialist takes lead role, and when there is a financial crisis, it could be the chief financial officer who may take charge. In the political sphere, the policies for winning a state may be defined by a leader who knows enough of the ground realities, rather than being vested only in the top man.

Cricket, let’s face it, has also not remained unchangeable, especially in the last few decades, and not just because of coloured clothing and floodlit matches. The two-captain theory (different men for ODIs and Tests) has been successfully deployed, and the referral system is now redefining the role of umpires.

Despite its brevity, however, Twenty20 still retains the texture and tenor of the same old game in that every delivery is a discrete event in itself.

This necessitates original decision making — unlike say in soccer and hockey — albeit in a limited time span. Moreover, while there will be several ‘experts’, the team is not a loose confederation of skills, but one unit functioning in a far narrower ambit than, say, a multinational company in which many country heads work quite independently towards the larger cause.

This puts the onus on one man who has overall control over strategy. For instance, MS Dhoni chose Joginder Singh to bowl the crucial last over in the T-20 World Championship final in 2007 when by almost any conceivable logic the ball should have been given to someone else. A situation where a bowling captain overrules the nominated captain is fraught with problems.

Can this theory work? It just might. However, management theories are as plentiful and also as transitory as those about cholesterol. Several such theories have often turned out to be no more than beguiling jargon with more academic than utility value, and can assign needless complexities to what may essentially be a simple pursuit. As in the virtues of having one prime minister to run a country and one editor a newspaper, I believe cricket (even T20) is best served by one captain.

Who that person should be, remains the vexing issue. In his magnificent treatise Art of Cricket, Sir Donald Bradman says only a person who is certain of his place in the team. Now, is that the real story behind this melodrama?