Fallen Empire of the Mighty Windies

How the mighty have fallen. Once upon a time, the West Indies cricket team was a juggernaut, a fearsome beast that sent shivers down the spines of opponents. With legends like Sir Garfield Sobers and Brian Lara wielding bats like Excalibur, they carved out records that stood as monuments to their dominance.

Sobers’ 365 not out in 1958 and Lara’s 375 in 1994, followed by his audacious 400 not out in 2004, were the gold standard of Test cricket scoring—individual feats that mocked the very idea of collective failure. Fast forward to July 14, 2025, and the West Indies, chasing a modest 204 against Australia in Kingston, collapsed like a house of cards in a hurricane, bowled out for a pathetic 27 runs. Twenty-seven. Let that sink in. A team that once terrorized bowlers worldwide couldn’t muster enough runs to fill a decent PowerPoint slide. This wasn’t just a collapse; it was a public execution of pride, broadcast for all to see.

Mitchell Starc, in his 100th Test, turned into a one-man wrecking crew, taking 6-9, including three wickets in the first over. Scott Boland chipped in with a hat-trick, because apparently the West Indies batters were in a race to see who could get back to the pavilion fastest. Seven ducks—seven!—and only Justin Greaves, with a measly 11, bothered to show up. The second-lowest Test total in history, just one run shy of New Zealand’s 26 from 1955. 

Congratulations, West Indies, you narrowly avoided the ultimate humiliation, thanks to a misfield. Truly, a moment to frame. Let’s rewind to the glory days, shall we? The 1970s and 1980s West Indies were cricket’s equivalent of a heavyweight champion, knocking out opponents with a swagger that made lesser teams tremble. Sobers, the greatest all-rounder ever, could bat, bowl, and field with a grace that made the game look unfair. Lara, with his high backlift and murderous cover drives, toyed with bowlers like a cat with a half-dead mouse. These men didn’t just play cricket; they redefined it.

Their individual scores—365, 375, 400—were the stuff of legend, numbers that stood unchallenged for decades. Meanwhile, the 2025 West Indies team can’t cobble together 200 runs between 11 players. It’s like comparing a Shakespearean sonnet to a toddler’s crayon scribble. What happened to this once-invincible empire? The West Indies of yesteryear had fire in their bellies and steel in their spines. They had Viv Richards, who stared down fast bowlers without a helmet and still smashed them into next week. They had Malcolm Marshall, whose bowling was so lethal it should’ve come with a health warning. Now? The current squad looks like they’re auditioning for a tragic comedy.

Captain Roston Chase called it “heartbreaking,” but that’s generous. It’s more like watching a former rock star busking for loose change outside a dive bar. The team’s batting was so spineless that even the extras felt embarrassed to contribute. The emergency meeting called by Cricket West Indies, featuring luminaries like Lara, Richards, and Clive Lloyd, is a nice touch—like inviting Einstein to fix a broken calculator. But let’s not kid ourselves. This isn’t a one-off; it’s a symptom of a rot that’s been festering for decades. The West Indies rank eighth out of 12 Test teams, a far cry from their untouchable perch in the ‘80s. Players are lured away by the glitz of T20 leagues, leaving Test cricket to wither like an unloved houseplant. The pitches in Kingston might favor bowlers, but no surface excuses a batting lineup folding faster than a cheap lawn chair. Here’s the kicker: Sobers and Lara didn’t just score runs; they carried the hopes of a region, turning cricket into a cultural force. Their records were a middle finger to anyone who doubted the Caribbean’s might. Today’s team? They’re a cautionary tale, a reminder that even empires can crumble into dust.

So, what now? The West Indies’ 27-run implosion isn’t just a bad day at the office; it’s a neon sign flashing “Game Over” for a team that’s been on life support for years. The emergency meeting feels like a desperate séance to summon a spirit that’s long since fled. Cricket West Indies can talk about “rebuilding” and “strategic reviews” until the cows come home, but let’s be real: this team is a shadow of its former self, and no amount of PowerPoint presentations will fix that. The problem isn’t just technique or preparation; it’s a cultural collapse, a slow bleed of passion and pride that’s left the West Indies as relevant as a flip phone in 2025. The T20 leagues, with their fat paychecks and instant gratification, have seduced the region’s talent away from the grind of Test cricket. Why sweat it out for five days when you can slap a few sixes in three hours and buy a yacht? The current crop of players, with rare exceptions, seem to treat Test matches like an annoying chore, not a sacred battleground where legends are forged. 

(The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai.)