The night I stopped worrying about Sanju – Shashi Tharoor

I first met Sanju Samson when he was 14, playing for a club in Trivandrum. I followed his early career, met him and his father while he was still in school. I've seen his journey from the beginning and remain a huge fan. I believe he has exceptional talent.

It's more than just the pride every Keralite shares. As his MP, I take extra pride that someone from my constituency has excelled from under-19 days to playing for India across all formats. He just hasn't had the luck he deserves—like scoring a century in an ODI and then being left out of the next match.

He's never been given a long enough chance to prove his worth, but his experiences have led him to this sublime innings. I've seen his centuries on TV, but this one was exceptional: chanceless, with no sense of doubt or risk-taking. There was an extraordinary stillness from the first ball, something missing in earlier knocks.

His confidence has been battered—being shuffled in the order, judged by failures. You could sense tentativeness before, but he overcame it yesterday. On screen, there was a complete mental and physical stillness. He anchored himself and played with impressive confidence. This was the best of Sanju.

I hoped he'd reach a century. With 100 runs needed, he had 50 to make but fell just short. Still, this 97* ranks among his finest innings and one of the best by an Indian in T20Is.

Sanju's talent has always been incredible—sublime, elegant, almost poetic strokes, like a backfoot cover drive off a fast delivery racing to the fence. You saw those yesterday, yet there was no sense of risk. Often with Sanju, you worry the next risky shot might get him out, but not this time. That's the stillness I mean: nothing excessively flamboyant or chancy. It was almost perfect.

As the innings evolved, even before his fifty, I felt this would be monumental. I didn't say it earlier to avoid jinxing it, but I had that feeling throughout. Eventually, I stopped worrying. With Sanju, I'm always emotionally invested, fearing an unnecessary risk or lapse, but this time, that fear vanished. It was clear he was at his peak, heading for something monumental. If not for the match ending, he could have gone on forever.

It's odd to draw a parallel, but in terms of concentration, calmness, stillness, and composure, it reminds me of Sunil Gavaskar's phenomenal 96 in his final Test in Bangalore in 1987. Both marshaled every ounce of concentration, like Arjuna seeing only the target's eye. Samson saw the ball and the spaces; Gavaskar saw only the ball. Both innings were pivotal—if victory was coming, it hinged on their success. Gavaskar's effort faltered at the end; Sanju's didn't.

Sanju also mastered T20's demands: he had just eight dot balls in the entire innings. When he couldn't hit a boundary, he took a single. Yet, when savagery was needed, it was clinical—like two blistering boundary shots where the bat met the ball and fielders had no chance. His final shots in the last over were classic T20 bludgeoning, but much of the innings could have been played in any format.

This innings felt like something he could have done in a Test or ODI. A couple of square cuts found gaps you wouldn't imagine existed. Sanju often says he plays instinctively, but there's something magisterial in his precision and classical in his grace. Most T20 innings, even higher scores outside World Cups, have a flashiness to them. I enjoy watching Abhishek Sharma, for example, but you feel he could get out any ball with his risks. With Sanju's innings, I never felt that. His calmness was infectious; I knew it wouldn't go wrong.

I'm too busy to follow the World Cup as much as I'd like—I missed the Kotla match and won't be in Ahmedabad or Mumbai for the knockout stages, but I'll be watching on TV.

I feel confident about Mumbai. No one can guarantee Sanju replicates this magic, but I believe he's reached an equilibrium he may repeat. Good innings depend on circumstances—bowling, ground, fielding. Yesterday, none of those factors made a difference; no dropped catches or influential moments. Next time might differ. I'm not saying we'll always see this Sanju, but watching this innings from start to finish was a superb pleasure.

Where do India go? Both England and India are vulnerable. England has won every Super Eights match but hasn't looked invincible, with close calls due to their vulnerabilities. India has had moments of vulnerability too, unlike their invincible run before the World Cup. It will come down to which side better exploits the other's weaknesses. Jos Buttler's horror run shows every victory had a different hero, but also failures from those we counted on. Everything depends on the day. I'm looking forward to the 5th.

I'm not predicting an easy win for either in the semi-final. Both have been equally vulnerable and flawed. Neither looks like a world-beater yet. Of the four semi-finalists, South Africa looks most impressive. Whoever faces them in the final will have a tough match; they are strong and will take some beating.

Let's see how things go in Mumbai. It will be an interesting match. By then, we'll know South Africa's result against New Zealand. South Africa is remarkably strong, but New Zealand can surprise anyone. We have two fascinating semi-finals ahead.

For me, the satisfaction is that India gave a good account of itself, and Sanju's performance gave me hope. If he brings even 80% of this confidence, calmness, and reliability to the semi-final, it would be a huge advantage for India. Conversely, I have to keep my fingers crossed for pretty much everyone else.

(Shashi Tharoor is a Lok Sabha member from Thiruvananthapuram. He spoke to Vijay Tagore)