Bumrah and Varun form India’s bowling axis, providing eight overs of control and wicket-taking threat

Recently, there was a clip of Hardik Pandya chatting with coach Gautam Gambhir during an open net session. The discussion was not about which part of the field to target, but whether it was prudent to aim for the second tier in the stand at midwicket or the first tier. This was not arrogance, but merely an acceptance that this was what the game had come to.

The change T20 cricket has brought to batsmen’s mentality is dazzling to watch. The ideal result, now, to any delivery bowled, is a six. A four is handy, a single acceptable to keep the correct batsman on strike, but a dot ball is as good as a wicket lost.

This is not because batsmen have collectively lost their minds. It is because resources are so stacked in their favour with only 20 overs, or 120 legal deliveries, in an innings.


The game is no longer about waiting for the right ball to hit because that may not come in time. It is about taking calculated risks, knowing that you will likely fail more often than you succeed, but that it is correct to do so in the team’s interest. Getting out attempting a big shot is preferable to occupying the crease while not scoring quickly enough.

Who would want to be a bowler in these times, you might ask. The short answer is that the freedom given to batsmen has led to a kind of liberation for thoughtful, intelligent bowlers. They have been freed from the tyranny of the economy rate.

Once you accept that batsmen who would be hopping for cover in a Test match are coming after you like you’re a club bowler in T20 cricket, the opportunities open up. Jasprit Bumrah was perhaps the first to suss this out. When he bowls a perfectly good delivery and still gets smacked, he cracks a wry smile and walks back to his mark, knowing that all he can do is stack the odds in his favour, after which anything can happen.

Bumrah was initially the yorkerand-bouncer guy. Sent down with his unique action, they were bankable dot balls even if they didn’t fetch wickets. Today, batsmen have found ways to attack even this. But that has only led him to use the stock delivery more intelligently, disguise the slower ball more subtly, and further differentiate his T20 bowling from other forms of the game.

If muscle and pace are Bumrah’s friends and carry him through the flattest of pitches, natural variations are Varun Chakravarthy’s greatest ally. As a slow bowler, he is accurate to the point of being predictable. This may not work in longer formats, as a good batsman would bide his time. But opponents don’t have that luxury in T20 cricket. Here, Varun can bowl the same ball six times in a row and expect things to go his way.

By the same, one does not mean jog up and roll the arm over. Rather, Varun’s best ball is the one that tests the batsman’s eyeliner through flight, challenges the middle of the bat with minimal turn and always attacks the stumps. Within this framework, he will vary his deliveries, whether the ball turns in to batsman or away, whether it bounces a bit more or skids through quicker … And then there is what the pitch does.

While subcontinental pitches in T20 cricket may do nothing for Bumrah, they keep Varun in the game. The aim might be to produce flat, batting beauties, but this inevitably means no grass and no pace. This allows the ball to stop and grip at times, to different degrees, except when the sheen of dew transforms the natural characteristics of turf and earth into something approaching a smooth, artificial surface.

Between Bumrah and Varun — let’s call them India’s bowling axis — India have eight overs covered. Together, they cover the bases of new ball, middle overs and death, delivering constant wicket-taking threat. For both, a good economy rate is merely a by-product, not the objective.

India are fortunate to have them, and the day will inevitably come when both are taken down by a skilful batsman riding his luck. They won’t mind, as long as that is not in a knockout game.