A suicidal stroke is sweeping the IPL

On a tense Friday night, Rohit Sharma did it and perished; a couple of days earlier, Suresh Raina did it too and paid a similar price. Robin Uthappa indulges in the same mischief regularly and still doesn't learn his lesson. Why, the other day, even Shaun Pollock opted for the same trick. There was only one difference though from this seasoned campaigner: he went for the other side but, not surprisingly, ended with the same fatal result.

Yes, a new virus is sweeping across the cricket firmament: you can call it the sweep, the scoop, the paddle or the mother of all gaffes: the reverse sweep but it is the latest scourge. Thanks to the IPL, batsmen are falling prey to it faster than a bunch of little, gullible boys.

Every big tournament, of course, throws up a new ball, a new shot or a new fielding technique. As the players made peace with the T-20 format, it was inevitable that some innovation would come along too.

Given the nature of this game, a destroy-or-destruct streak screaming from each gene, it is fitting that it had to be a suicidal stroke.

So why are batsmen, young and old, playing it so unabashedly? Why aren't they realizing that the plusses-minuses ratio is skewed substantially in favour of the latter? Or is there so much stress on boundary-balls that an element of desperation, even madness, has crept into their lexicon?

You can blame it on the format. In One-dayers, there is as much scope for horizontal strokes as there is for vertical, or indeed, front of the wicket shots. In fact, the glide to the third man (equally risky) was the byproduct of the 50-50 game.

Many perished trying it but they never gave it up. Surprisingly, the glide wasn't even a productive shot as the third man ensured it didn't fetch more than a single. The T-20's suicidal stroke is at least potentially more rewarding. The player looks macho and the shot exhilarating when it comes off; but when it doesn't he looks like a fool.

In a way, you can call it evolution. The bowlers have understood that anything short, long or wide will be plundered over the rope; there is no scope for error here. So more and more are resorting to yorkers and slower but fuller deliveries. It is the only weapon left in their hands now. The idea, of course, is to avoid being deposited over long-on, long-off, mid-wicket or covers. The batsmen, in turn, have to improvise. As the ball becomes soft and energy drains from their shoulders, they have to once in a while play a less-physical shot which also yields the maximum. With fine-leg up, thanks to the need for men to patrol the boundary in front of the wicket, this is the only lucrative option.

It works when the ball is just short of fuller-length; it is even better if it is drifting down the leg side. Either way, miss it and you have either wasted a delivery or you are goner. Obviously, the stroke is laden with danger but since when has that stopped batsmen? Boys will be boys and will continue to do it. Until they find some other way of doing it.