An Afternoon at Eden Gardens, Shaw's Cover Drive, and the Training Notebook Page That Hasn't Lied Since 2026

Wednesday afternoon, the media box at Eden Gardens. I was turning to a page in my notebook where, twenty years ago at this very ground, I had written on the first morning of a Ranji match: 'Pitch dry, but the movement in the first net at 9:40 tells me spin will rule after two o'clock.' The prediction proved right that day. My notebook has one rule — I write down what I see first, then measure it, and only then say anything. That rule served me again this time, when Prithvi Shaw struck an unbeaten 53 off 50 balls against Bengal to carry Maharashtra to a 114-run target in 19.4 overs.

When the scorecard is laid out, it tells you everything — except the moment when Shaw did not look toward the pavilion but watched the wicketkeeper's movement behind the stumps. This is the world of my notebook — the ball does not look at a ball-tracking app; it looks at the batter's feet. And Shaw's feet, between three fours and six sixes, were saying he was not playing with confidence but with calculation. That distinction matters. Hitting a boundary and hitting a boundary because you judged the ball worthy of it are two different things.

Maharashtra won this match with seven points — including a bonus point — and moved to the top of Elite Group C with 19 points, while Bengal slipped to second with 18. But this match is not merely a story of points. It is the story of a process I have seen many times in 48 years — a first-innings lead, then a collapse, then the victim of a modest target. Bengal were bowled out for 143, Maharashtra took a 75-run lead, and then Bengal climbed from 87/6 to 186 — including a 64-run stand between Porel (65) and Gupta (59). That stand is the story of a lower order that postpones defeat but cannot deliver victory.

When I began covering the Ranji Trophy in the 1980s, the press box used to be full. Today, in that same box at Eden Gardens, there are two reporters and one cameraman. This decline is recorded in my own attendance records, and that is why when I hear talk of 'the death of Ranji,' my notebook says — no, this is not death, this is neglect. The IPL did not kill Test cricket; in India, Test tickets still sell out. It hollowed out the Ranji Trophy, and the coverage numbers prove it. But the morning at Eden Gardens I saw in this match was testimony that cricket survives even amid this neglect.

Now to the real technical drama of this match — and it was not Prithvi Shaw but Bengal's top order. Bengal's first innings collapsed for 143, and in the second innings the same old structure repeated at 87/6. Here I turn to my 2026 notebook — the time when I filed nets notebooks for 41 consecutive days from the Gujarat Lions camp and the team's video analyst screenshotted two of my seam-position notes. That experience taught me that the measure of bowling depth is not wickets but the rhythm visible in the first morning's nets. In Maharashtra's bowling, Walunj took four wickets (left-arm spinner) and Dadhe also took four (pace bowler). Four wickets each from two different types of bowler — this is a durable structural asset in first-class cricket, and this was the real foundation of Maharashtra's victory, not Shaw's 53-run innings.

The biggest misconception is that this match is the story of Prithvi Shaw's comeback. It is not. This match is the story of Bengal's top-order collapse and Maharashtra's bowling variety, and Shaw's innings is a subplot within it.

Why am I saying this? For that, I point to the page in my notebook where Shaw's last four innings are recorded — 21, 0, 17, 12. Fifty runs in total, including a duck. Scoring 53* in one innings and averaging 12.5 in the four before it — this is a clear signal of volatility, not a trend reversal. Shaw himself has said that his dismissals were caused not by a technical flaw but by shot selection. I respect this self-diagnosis, but it is not third-party technical corroboration. When a batter defends himself, he is often at his most honest — and his most blind.

Here I recall the 'ninety nets sessions' rule I created when DRS arrived. I said then — no new tool, whether technology or a batter, earns my trust until it passes the ninety-nets-session test. For Shaw, that number is currently one — one innings. And even this innings came on a surface where the target was only 114 and the ball was old. What I have written in my notebook about the Eden Gardens pitch is that in the fourth innings, spinners get bounce here but batters face a 'tricky' surface. Shaw himself has called this surface 'difficult.' So then, scoring at a strike rate of 106 on a difficult surface — is this technical repair or a risky gamble that succeeded?

My notebook says — both.

Shaw had six sixes and three fours, meaning 42 of his 53 runs came from boundaries alone. This is a profile with high risk and high reward. For a batter in a form trough, aggression is often defensive — it is a confidence-building strategy in which he trusts his instinct rather than caution. Shaw told the coach he would target 70-80 and that 'attack is the best form of defence.' He finished on 53*, but he followed the plan. Following the plan and the plan succeeding are two different things.

Now the point no one is making — Bengal's top-order failure is the biggest technical event of this match, and it points not to one match but to a trend. 143 and 87/6 — this is the same structure in two different innings. In the first innings, the entire team collapsed for 143; in the second, the top order lost six wickets for 87. Porel and Gupta's 64-run stand postponed defeat but could not deliver victory. This is the pattern I call 'lower-order plaster' — it fills the wound but does not erase the scar.

If credit for Maharashtra's victory goes to anyone, it goes to their bowling variety. Walunj is a left-arm spinner who turns the ball away from the right-hander, and Dadhe is a pace bowler. In first-class cricket, when you have two different types of bowler each taking four wickets, that is structural strength, not a one-match coincidence. Sanghvi scored 60 and also took two wickets — this all-round contribution reflects the depth Maharashtra possesses.

But here a question arises that I am recording in my notebook — Maharashtra's victory has come from a small core. Shaw and Dhas (61*) chased the target, Sanghvi contributed all-round, and in bowling, Walunj-Dadhe. This is the story of four or five names. Reaching the top is one thing; staying there is another. 19 points versus 18 — that is a one-point margin, and the table can turn in the next round. Maharashtra's top position is provisional, not permanent.

Now the angle the media has created — 'the return of the former prodigy.' I understand this narrative, because in 2026 in this same city I saw another comeback story, when a senior batter scored a century in Ranji and the newspapers sounded the comeback bugle. Three innings later he was out of form again. Narratives are built fast and broken slowly. And here there is another layer attached to Shaw's name — former India Test opener. Name recognition accelerates the narrative faster than the character deserves.

I am not saying Shaw's innings doesn't matter. It does — for a player who moved from Mumbai to Maharashtra last season, who is out of the Indian team, whose IPL franchise position is unstable. Scoring runs in Ranji is a signal in that ecosystem that influences both national selection and franchise demand. But there is a difference between a signal and a system change. One fifty is a signal, two consecutive fifties are a trend, and five are a season.

Here I return to the habit I formed after that empty-stadium Ranji final in 2026, when Saurashtra, carried by Jaydev Unadkat's 67-wicket season, beat Bengal on first-innings lead and then cricket went silent for eight months. In those eight months I digitised my 214 notebooks from 31 years. When cricket returned, I was the only reporter who could pull a 2026 Motera pitch note in under a minute. That habit taught me — before writing about any player's form, I check my notebook for his last ten nets sessions. For Shaw, I don't have those ten sessions. I only have this 53*.

This is where I disagree with the media narrative: an easy target (114), a worn surface, and a 50-ball sample — this is not proof of technical rebuilding. It is a successful risk, which I record in that day's netbook, not as a season's conclusion.

And if you are wondering on what basis I say this, I show you my prediction ledger — the diary I started after the 2026 pink-ball Test. At that time, having watched Axar Patel's arm angle in the Gujarat nets for four mornings, I wrote that England's top order would not be able to score off the straight ball. Axar took eleven wickets, England collapsed for 112 and 81, and India won inside two days. That day my desk asked me to write 'the magic of the pink ball,' but I refused and filed instead on the length Axar had bowled in a Ranji semifinal three seasons earlier. The ledger taught me — before calling anything a 'success,' think twice. I will not call Shaw's innings a 'comeback.' I will call it 'one day's rhythm.'

Now let us talk about the side no one is watching — the structural context of the Ranji Trophy. This is an Elite Group C match, and under the bonus-point system, seven points were awarded. What is this bonus point? It is a rule that awards an extra point for a win by a large margin — a ten-wicket win or an innings victory. In this match, Maharashtra won by ten wickets, so the bonus point was awarded. This system shapes the table, and that is why the 19-versus-18 difference is not just about one point but about a bonus.

I have been watching this game for 48 years. I covered the 2026 match-fixing scandal and saw the 2026 IPL spot-fixing fallout. Those experiences taught me that questioning institutions is a journalist's job, not making villains of individuals. There is no integrity signal in this match, no controversy. But there is a structural question — why does Bengal's top order keep collapsing? This question is of the same kind I asked in the 1990s when Ranji press boxes began to empty.

There is another page in my notebook — 13 March 2026, Rajkot, the last day of the Ranji final. Saurashtra beat Bengal on first-innings lead. Then eight months of silence. In that silence I learned that the game does not only happen in the stadium; it also happens in the wait that follows. Today at Eden Gardens, when Shaw hit a boundary, I heard applause. But I was remembering the day when, in an empty stadium, I heard only the sound of the bat, not the applause.

*So what next? Shaw's next two or three Ranji scores will decide the narrative of this whole season — not this 53. Maharashtra's top position rests on a one-point margin, and whether Bengal's top-order failure is a one-match coincidence or a trend will become clear in the next round. My notebook says — nets first, noise later. And I am still waiting for the page where Shaw's next ten nets sessions are recorded, so I can weigh them on my scale.**