India’s bowling coach Morne Morkel makes a powerful public statement, arguing that pacer Mohammed Siraj is not given enough credit for his tireless efforts and the ‘hard yards’ he puts in for the team, especially during the grueling Test series against England.
In the high-pressure cauldron of a home Test series against England, where every delivery is scrutinized and every statistic dissected, India’s bowling coach Morne Morkel has thrown a grenade into the public discourse. In a stark, unflinching assessment, the former South African pace titan declared that one of his most vital assets, Mohammed Siraj, is a victim of gross under-appreciation. It wasn’t just praise; it was a public indictment of a narrative that has, for too long, overlooked the man who consistently does the team’s dirty work.
KEY POINTS:
- Morkel’s Public Backing: India’s bowling coach, Morne Morkel, stated unequivocally that Mohammed Siraj does not receive sufficient credit for his contributions.
- The Workhorse: Morkel highlighted Siraj’s willingness to put in the ‘hard yards’ and push his body to its absolute limits for the team’s cause.
- Test Series Context: The comments were made after Day 4 of the 2nd Test in the high-stakes 2025 series between India and England, a point in the match where grit and character are paramount.
- A Respected Opinion: Coming from a legendary fast bowler like Morkel, the praise carries immense weight and serves as a powerful endorsement of Siraj’s value beyond simple statistics.
The Coach’s Verdict: A Line Drawn in the Sand
Let’s be clear. When a man of Morne Morkel’s stature speaks, the cricketing world listens. This is not a platitude from a coach trying to boost a player’s morale. This is a calculated statement from one of the most fearsome fast bowlers of the modern era, a man who knows intimately what it means to tear in on a lifeless pitch under a scorching sun. His words, delivered in the charged atmosphere of a post-play press conference, were a direct challenge to fans, pundits, and journalists alike. “I have a lot of respect for him,” Morkel began, before delivering the crux of his message. “We don’t give enough credit to Mohammed Siraj.”
The pronoun is critical. ‘We’. Morkel wasn’t pointing fingers at an abstract entity; he was implicating the entire ecosystem that consumes and analyzes the sport. He was talking about the obsession with headline-grabbing five-fers and the tendency to overlook the grueling, unglamorous spells that set up those victories. This was Morkel, the coach, drawing a line in the sand and defending his warrior. He sees what many miss: the relentless effort, the courage, and the sheer physical sacrifice that Siraj embodies every time he takes the ball.
Siraj: The Relentless Workhorse in the Shadows
Mohammed Siraj is not a cricketer of subtle nuances. He is a force of raw, untamed energy. He plays the game with his heart stapled to his sleeve, a throwback to an era of visceral, aggressive fast bowling. But in a team blessed with the surgical precision of Jasprit Bumrah and the mesmerizing artistry of its spinners, Siraj’s role is often misunderstood. He is the enforcer, the battering ram, the man asked to do the ‘hard yards’.
What does that actually mean? It means charging in for a seventh or eighth over on a dead Day 4 pitch in Chennai or Mumbai, when the temperature is nudging 40 degrees Celsius and the Kookaburra ball feels like a bar of soap. It means pounding the deck to create rough patches for the spinners to exploit. It means targeting the batsman’s body, not just his stumps, to create an atmosphere of intimidation and unease. It’s attritional, exhausting, and often, thankless work. The wickets column might not always reflect the damage inflicted, but the psychological scars left on the opposition batting lineup are indelible. Morkel, having performed that very role for South Africa for over a decade, recognizes a kindred spirit. He sees a bowler who isn’t just executing a skill, but is pushing his body to its breaking point for the collective.
Beyond the Stats: Measuring the Unmeasurable
Modern cricket is drowning in data. We have ball-tracking, spin rates, and expected-wicket models. But how do you quantify heart? How do you assign a numerical value to the momentum shift that occurs when a hostile spell of fast bowling puts a previously comfortable batsman on the back foot? You can’t. And that is precisely Morkel’s point.
Siraj’s value transcends his economy rate or his strike rate. His true worth is measured in the moments that don’t appear on the scorecard. It’s in the loud, desperate appeals that lift the team’s energy. It’s in the searing bouncer that forces a top-order player to question his technique. It’s in the willingness to run in with the same intensity in his last over of the day as he did in his first. These are the intangibles, the one-percenters that coaches prize above all else, because they are the building blocks of a winning culture. While spectators might see a dot ball, Morkel sees a plan being executed, pressure being built, and an opponent being mentally broken down, piece by piece.
The Ripple Effect: Will the Narrative Finally Change?
Morkel’s praise wasn’t limited to Siraj; he also spoke highly of fellow pacer Akash Deep, signaling a coach’s satisfaction with his entire unit’s effort. But it was his forceful defence of Siraj that became the story. The question now is, what happens next? A public endorsement of this magnitude from a coach of Morkel’s pedigree is a powerful shield and a potent weapon. For Siraj, it is the ultimate validation of his methods and his role within the team hierarchy.
For the rest of us, it should serve as a crucial reminder. It’s a call to look beyond the obvious, to appreciate the grit as much as the glamour. Cricket, especially the five-day Test format, is a war of attrition, and in any war, the shock troops who soften up the enemy lines are just as crucial as the snipers who land the killer blow. Mohammed Siraj is one of India’s finest shock troopers. Thanks to his coach, perhaps now he’ll finally get the credit he so richly deserves.