World Cup touchdowns at Eden Gardens have an unmistakable ceremonial vibe. The air is crisper, the cavernous stands look grander with hidden illumination and the workers keep milling around as officials make a dash for their cabins to attend emergent meetings.
Outside, the cross-section of Red Road and Mayo Road, along with Gostho Paul Sarani that winds past the ground, bear a rattling traffic that slows down in front of the facade featuring Kapil (Dev), Sachin (Tendulkar), Sourav (Ganguly), (Mahendra Singh) Dhoni and Jhulan (Goswami). “Practice hocche? (Is anyone practising?),” is the common query. Nothing seems to have changed, yet it feels more guarded this time, and not without a palpable tinge of anxiety.
The unease is understandable. Last time Eden Gardens featured in an ODI World Cup, it had to embarrassingly forfeit an India-England match to Bangalore after failing to meet ICC deadlines. Left with non-India matches— ‘crumbs’ as one office-bearer had put it back then — the Cricket Association of Bengal (CAB) felt insulted, none more than Jagmohan Dalmiya who had made it his life’s mission to wrest back Eden’s glory.
“I was hurt. I still am. I don’t think that was fair,” Dalmiya had told HT.
Redemption came in the form of a pulsating India-Pakistan match followed by a T20 World Cup final for the ages but Dalmiya didn’t live to witness that delirium.
This is the ODI World Cup though. And Eden Gardens represents not merely a venue or a city but the conviction that brought the World Cup out of England for the first time in 12 years. Two neutral countries played that final but there was no problem fitting 100,000 people because 12 people could be crammed into concrete rows meant for 10.
The crowd was partisan, which Steve Waugh later said was “because England had beaten India and we had beaten Pakistan in the semi-finals”. Nevertheless, the scenes made for a fascinating culmination to a World Cup like no one had experienced. “It was probably the best atmosphere I’d played in. The noise the crowd made was absolutely phenomenal,” Mike Gatting told The Guardian.
Riding the coat-tails of that runaway success—shepherded by Dalmiya all along—Eden Gardens was at the forefront of the 1996 World Cup again, hoping to break new ground. First act of that play was an opening ceremony that was expected to set the tone of the tournament. But the performers’ came out in mismatched dresses, the compering was completely off before the evening breeze picked up and pretty much blew away the centrepiece screen.
Abandonment of the semi-final then came as a rude jolt to a venue known for its sporting spectatorship. Much of the ire — missile-throwing and torching the stands — was directed at India’s abject surrender but it went above the head once the protests refused to die despite multiple requests. Festoons torn, ramparts blackened by soot, gates dented — Eden Gardens wore the look of a battleground the next morning.
History will tell us cricket has always managed to bring out good and bad in equal measures at Eden. Eyewitness accounts of the 1966-67 Test against West Indies recall Conrad Hunte climbing to the pavilion roof to save the West Indies flag before making a break for Red Road on foot as Eden was torched by angry ticket-holders denied entry.
Chants of “No Kapil, no Test” during the 1984-85 match against England are perceived to have prompted Sunil Gavaskar to vow never to play at Eden Gardens again. In 1999, a Test match had to be completed in front of empty stands after Eden couldn’t stand losing to Pakistan. But it also gave us the greatest Test ever in 2001.
“People here know their cricket. This is a special place and I wanted to make it count for myself and for the team,” said Rohit Sharma after getting to 264 here.
On a more subliminal level, Eden Gardens symbolises the growth of the game across nearly two centuries. It used to regularly host top-league football—Pele’s Cosmos included—till 1984. Stands had to be moved across the road from Mohun Bagan, East Bengal and Mohammedan Sporting to seat spectators much before permanent galleries came up. In 1992 came floodlights that are switched every year to facilitate the immersion processions converging on Hooghly from around the city, making Eden nothing short of a nervecentre.
The old and faithful took that advantage for granted, to the extent that it almost became ingrained into the system. So, when alarm bells had started ringing in 2011, CAB officials were nonplussed even though an entire stand was yet to be raised from the rubble. When reality finally hit, the general reaction was of surprise and shock. “We were absolutely sure we could have fixed whatever the ICC had deemed not up to scratch,” Biswarup Dey, the then treasurer had said.
First host of a World Cup final after Lord’s, first cricket stadium in India to install floodlights, host of the first pink-ball Test in India — Eden Gardens’ primacy will remain intact even if it doesn’t host a World Cup final anytime soon.
But like before any cricket match at Eden, the breeze from Hooghly sweeps up a thousand whispers. Of how this is a litmus test for current CAB president Snehasish Ganguly after his more famous brother decided to step down from all administrative positions. Only fonder memories can bury a troubling past, and Ganguly knows he has five matches—including an India-South Africa fixture—to make that happen. It required a fair bit of parleying but extending organic support to their bid was Eden’s history.
“You can’t deny Eden Gardens a big match,” Snehasish had told reporters after the semi-final venues were announced. “There is an aura about Eden Gardens. All we needed was a little bit of renovation.”
