There can be little doubt that cricket’s longest format has been impacted by its shortest. Not only are there players -- David Warner being one -- who came to Test cricket through the T20 door, but the modern Test batsman has generally been more adventurous than his predecessor. The modern batsman is willing and more capable of clearing the boundary, and so sixes are no longer the rarity they had been in the past.
Recently, in Dhaka, West Indies batsman Shimron Hetmyer, made 93 against Bangladesh in a manner that would hardly have been out of place in a T20 game. Containing nine sixes and a single four, it is the kind of innings the purists scoff at. It is the kind of innings Indian wicketkeeper-batsman Rishabh Pant attempts to play almost every time he takes guard, yet it is the kind of innings that’s becoming more and more commonplace.
What Pujara did in Adelaide, scoring 123 in the first innings and 71 in the second, was to remind us of the value of an old-fashioned approach to Test-match batting. The kind associated with the likes of Shivnarine Chanderpaul and Geoffrey Boycott. The kind which emphasizes the value of occupation of the crease.
Both of Pujara’s innings in Adelaide plotted a route for India to escape the early peril brought about by the foolishness of its flashier batsmen. But they were also more than that. They were a riposte to those who often accused the batsman of lacking intent because of his propensity to do his utmost to hold on to his wicket, even if it means remaining scoreless for long periods. His batting was a revolt against the idea of relentless attack, the notion that the batsman should always seek to be dominant.
Firstpost
Recently, in Dhaka, West Indies batsman Shimron Hetmyer, made 93 against Bangladesh in a manner that would hardly have been out of place in a T20 game. Containing nine sixes and a single four, it is the kind of innings the purists scoff at. It is the kind of innings Indian wicketkeeper-batsman Rishabh Pant attempts to play almost every time he takes guard, yet it is the kind of innings that’s becoming more and more commonplace.
What Pujara did in Adelaide, scoring 123 in the first innings and 71 in the second, was to remind us of the value of an old-fashioned approach to Test-match batting. The kind associated with the likes of Shivnarine Chanderpaul and Geoffrey Boycott. The kind which emphasizes the value of occupation of the crease.
Both of Pujara’s innings in Adelaide plotted a route for India to escape the early peril brought about by the foolishness of its flashier batsmen. But they were also more than that. They were a riposte to those who often accused the batsman of lacking intent because of his propensity to do his utmost to hold on to his wicket, even if it means remaining scoreless for long periods. His batting was a revolt against the idea of relentless attack, the notion that the batsman should always seek to be dominant.
