It wasn’t something you could make up. As Sreesanth started to establish himself in India’s Test line-up in 2006, dismissing the likes of Brian Lara, Greg Chappell, then coach, had a small routine. Before most sessions that India were in the field, Chappell would take Sreesanth to one side and ask him: “So, are you going to be good Sree or bad Sree?”
No, this is not the script of Kindergarten Cop. It actually used to happen. Sreesanth would usually reply that he would be good Sree. Then, Chappell would ask: “What does good Sree do?” Sreesanth would then tell his coach that ‘Good Sree’ would bowl in the off-stump corrider – mostly outswing on the fourth-stump line, with the upright seam that was the envy of his contemporaries.
That anecdote isn’t there to belittle either Chappell’s coaching skill, or Sreesanth’s ability. It merely illustrates how difficult it was to manage a maverick, mercurial talent. Sreesanth’s skills were never ever in doubt. His temperament, however, was constantly questioned. On the sidelines of the decisive Newlands Test in January 2007 – South Africa would eventually win by five wickets to seal a come-from-behind series win – Allan Donald marvelled at Sreesanth’s seam presentation.
“I’ve seen some of the greats, including Glenn McGrath,” he told a small group of Indian journalists during a break in play. “I haven’t seen anyone who could keep the seam bolt upright six balls an over, and keep repeating that. It’s a special gift.”
Sreesanth had taken 5-40 in the first innings of India’s historic win at the Wanderers in Johannesburg, but when Chappell spoke to the Indian media contingent after the game, he revealed that the young paceman – who had made a mockery of Mickey Arthur’s request for a pitch with pace and bounce – was struggling with an upset stomach as a result of the emotional rollercoaster he had been on.
Sreesanth would bounce back to take eight wickets in the loss in Durban, but the inability to match those levels in the second innings in Cape Town – he took 0-50 in 13 overs – played a huge part in South Africa’s escape to victory. The emotional battery had been totally drained, and a tough side led from the front by Graeme Smith cashed in.
Sreesanth would go back to South Africa in 2010-11, summoning up a magic delivery in Durban to get Jacques Kallis hopping, but by then, the discussion had long since moved from his use of the seam to whether he was worth the baggage he brought along.
Make no mistake, Sreesanth irritated and annoyed people, his teammates included. When Harbhajan Singh slapped him during the first season of the IPL in 2008, there was an uproar, but more than one player admitted privately that they would have loved to do the same. In that very same season of IPL, a visibly irked Matthew Hayden – whose dismissal in the World T20 semifinal had been celebrated with fists beating the pitch – told a press conference in Chennai that he thought Sreesanth was a ‘singularly ordinary cricketer’.
When Sreesanth was eased out of the India picture after the disastrous 4-0 defeat in England in 2011, some of his loyalists in the media in Kerala kept writing about a ‘northern’ conspiracy to keep their hero out of the side. To put it politely, that was utter nonsense. The fact was that by then, hardly anyone in the dressing room could tolerate him.
If you want proof, consider this. Mohammed Azharuddin and Ajay Jadeja were both banned for long periods for their alleged involvement in the match-fixing scandal that came to light in 2000. Despite that, at least a few of their former teammates stayed in touch with them. When talking of Azhar, in particular, you could see both wistfulness and regret in the faces of one-time comrades and journalists alike.
When Sreesanth was banned in 2013, not one of his former teammates came out and spoke on his behalf. Not one. What his backers couldn’t explain was this. There have been players who were not especially popular before. But it takes quite some talent to upset or annoy every other player in a 15-man squad.
Gautam Gambhir’s apparent outburst during the Legends League game has to be viewed in that light. What Gambhir said wasn’t right, and cannot be justified, but it came from a place of deep frustration. For years, his teammates and coaches tried to keep Sreesanth on the right path. Not one of them – not even Chappell, who probably handled him best – succeeded. You can only help those who want to help themselves.
Most importantly, cricketers don’t appreciate someone who bleats off the field. From time immemorial, what happens on the field, or what’s said, stays on it. You don’t take it to the media or your Instagram account. That code of honour, whether it’s an international game or a school match, is as old as cricket itself. Over the years, by constantly annoying those he played with and then playing victim when they responded, Sreesanth paid scant respect to that code.
A man with his gifts should have finished with far more than the 169 wickets he took across formats for India in 90 games. That he didn’t is no reflection of the talent he had. It just tells you that Good Sree didn’t turn up as often as he should have.