Grovel & Cricket: The word that carries the weight of history.

 

  

 Grovel & Cricket: The word that carries the weight of history.

Now that the heat on the comprehensive drubbing (2-0) that South African team gave to the over hyped Indian team in the Test series, I am tempted to write on the infamous word “Grovel” that hogged headlines and its history with a racial undercurrent. It all started with what the South African coach Conrad, said during the press conference after the end of the fourth day of the second test. He said “…. we wanted them (Indians) to really grovel”.  This word and its use in the context of the match resurrected not merely a controversial word, but a racial shadow that South Africa once fought so hard to escape, isolation / ban from international cricket.

For India—a nation that had helped South Africa return to cricketing legitimacy— “grovel” felt like an unnecessarily abrasive turn of phrase, especially coming after a First-Test defeat and a looming loss in the second. Language carries memory, and this word (grovel) of all words, could have been avoided by the South African coach. To highlight my thoughts, as a science communicator, I am reminded of the legendary scientist, James Watson, who died on 7 November, at the age of 97.

Watson’s example serves as a reminder of a paradox that repeats itself across history: brilliant minds and sporting arena are not immune to human frailties. Watson, one of the co-discoverers of the structure of DNA for which he shared the coveted Nobel Prize in Medicine and a towering figure in molecular biology, helped set in motion scientific revolutions that continue to shape medicine, genetics, and our understanding of life itself.

Watson championed the Human Genome Project and pushed for greater scientific attention to mental health - partly because of his own son’s struggle with psychiatric illness. Yet, all of this and his monumental contributions to science and humanity could not insulate him from the consequences of his own words. His repeated claims that Black people have inherently lower intelligence led to his downfall. The Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory—an institution he nurtured into global prominence— revoked the honours it had once bestowed. In his death, Watson did not receive the accolades which he so richly deserved.

Watson’s “fall from grace” is not an isolated tale but a reminder that racism pervades in subtle and overt ways, sometimes in the corridors of science and sometimes on the sporting field. And this brings us to the word “grovel” used by South African Coach, Shukri Conrad that has hogged media headline. This word has a history.

In 1976, during England’s tour of the West Indies, English captain Tony Greig declared that he intended to make the West Indians “grovel.” For a generation of Caribbean people whose parents and grandparents had struggled against the legacy of slavery and colonial domination, this was not just a sporting provocation. It was a racial insult. To “grovel” implied submission, abasement, a return to the humiliations of the past. The backlash was swift, and Greig himself later admitted that he had underestimated the racial implications of his words. But then the West Indies Cricket team paid back in-kind defeating Grieg’s English team 3-0 in the test series.

This word grovel was back again in news reminding its history, power, and pain in the second India-South Africa Test match, which the Indians lost comprehensively.

South Africa should have known the history and context of the word “grovel”, more viscerally than others, more so since South Africa was banished from international cricket, for over two decades due to apartheid—a system built explicitly on racial hierarchy - an undertone for the word grovel. Speaking of South Africa’s isolation from the world, I am reminded of my first passport (obtained in 1987), which clearly mentioned “this passport is valid for travel to ALL COUNTRIES EXCEPT REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA”.

It was India that extended the warmest hand of friendship and welcome to South Africa, when the time finally came for South Africa’s reintegration into the cricketing world in 1991-92. While developing a “Cricket Connects: India South Africa” exhibition, one of the most important sections of the exhibition was the reintegration of South Africa. This exhibition, which was developed to mark the India South Africa cultural relations in 2015, was curated and developed by the Nehru Science Centre, Mumbai and was presented in Johannesburg and Durban to a very appreciative crowd, I vividly remember presenting the exhibition catalogue, which accompanied the exhibition, to Sachin Tendulkar during the opening of Deconstructed Innings A tribute to Sachin Tendulkar that was presented at NGMA, Mumbai when I headed this institution.    

In November 1991, India hosted South Africa’s maiden historic return to international cricket. The reception in Kolkata at the inaugural one day international (ODI) match of the 3-match series, remains legendary. The packed Eden Gardens – more than 90000 spectators- roared not just for cricket match (ODI), which India won, but also for South Africa, a nation re-entering world cricket after a long spell of pariah status under apartheid. The South African team received a memorable reception including an opportunity to met Mother Teresa. Indian crowds cheered Allan Donald and Kepler Wessels as if they were their own. Their return to international cricket was celebrated by Indians as a symbol of friendship, solidarity, and an extraordinary act of goodwill by the hosts. It must be recalled that India had stood firmly against apartheid.

India further strengthened this relationship when it became the first country to tour South Africa in 1992 for a full series and Nelson Mandela personally welcomed the Indian team. Cricket became a bridge between two nations that had shared moral positions against racism and discrimination.

“Grovel” makes the present moment deeply ironic.

In the context of the second test match, South Africa coach, Shukri Conrad said that his team batted as long as they did in their second innings, because "we wanted them to really grovel”.  This phrase by Conrad, resurrected not merely a controversial word, but a racial shadow his own country had once fought so hard to escape. For India—a nation that had helped South Africa return to cricketing legitimacy—it felt like an unnecessarily abrasive turn of phrase, especially coming after a first-Test defeat and a looming loss in the second. Language carries memory, and this word, of all words, should have been avoided by a South African coach.

Racism mutates; it does not disappear

This is where the Watson story mirrors the cricket controversy. Watson was not a man unaware of the implications of his language; he was at the pinnacle of scientific achievement. Yet he repeated ideas long discredited by genetics itself. In cricket too, the people involved are no longer colonial administrators or imperial-era players. They are part of a global, multicultural, interdependent sport. But racism—even when unintended—slips through in choice of words, in unconscious bias, in language inherited without reflection.

We often imagine racism to be a loud, explicit act. More often, it is a careless phrase, a historical insult casually revived, or a stereotype uttered without thought. The Watson episode teaches us that no amount of brilliance or success inoculates a person against prejudice. And cricket teaches us that institutions with painful racial histories can sometimes forget their own lessons.

India, in the last few decades, has experienced a transformation in cricketing power, confidence, and global influence. From hosting South Africa’s re-entry into international cricket, we now dominate the commercial and sporting landscape of the game. But this does not make the country—or its players—immune to racial slights or coded insults. What the “grovel” remark underscores is that international sport is not insulated from past trauma. Words can reopen wounds. They can destabilise cricket’s attempts to transcend its colonial past. They can damage the very spirit of the game that brought nations together after decades of segregation. And yet, the appropriate response for such unpleasant situations is not anger alone. It is to remind the world of history. It is to assert that cricket today operates in a moral universe shaped by the struggle against racism, one in which every stakeholder must exercise responsibility, in the true spirit of the game, befittingly called Gentleman’s Game.