The Glove Poser
- By Vedam Jaishankar
One memorable comment about wicket-keeping came
from former India batsman TE Srinivasan. TE, as he
is popularly known, was member of the Indian team
on that 1981 twin tour of Australia and New Zealand
made famous by the near conceding of the Melbourne
Test by Indian skipper Sunil Gavaskar. So peeved
was Gavaskar at being adjudged leg before wicket to
Dennis Lillee that he very nearly succeeded in
forcing fellow-opener Chetan Chauhan to walk off
the field in protest.
The
gregarious, TE, who loves to talk and laugh a lot,
made his foray into coaching at the end of his
playing days. On one occasion, watching an India
game, there was this then unusual sight of
erstwhile wicket-keeper Nayan Mongia calling for a
helmet with protective face grill to stand up to
leg spinner Anil Kumble . Those days, the helmet
and face grill were not standard wicket-keeping
equipment. But with the tall Kumble, who bowls his
variety of leg spin and googly at a brisk pace,
getting the odd delivery to pop up and turn, Mongia,
standing behind the wickets, opted for extra
protection.
It was then that TE made his unforgettable remark:
"Standing up to Kumble on these pitches pales into
insignificance when compared to what Kiri (former
India wicket-keeper Syed Kirmani) used to do. Those
were the days we played Ranji Trophy and Duleep
Trophy matches on some of the worst pitches. Teams
used to get bundled out for 120 to 150 runs.
Sometimes even these scores were winning scores!
"On such lousy pitches it was a nightmare batting
against Chandra (BS Chandrashekar, India's
legendary match-winning bowler who used to bowl his
brand of leg spin, top spin and googly at a
terrific pace). If one delivery shot through from a
length at ankle height, the next one from the same
length had to be fended off from the face. Batsmen
with a bat in hand, pads and all sorts of
protective equipment used to be petrified at
playing Chandra on such pitches. But there was Kiri,
standing up to the wickets and collecting the ball
in all sorts of acrobatic style.
"Certainly he was the greatest-ever wicket-keeper.
But my own feeling is you had to be mad or
absolutely brilliant to stand up to Chandra on such
pitches, and without the benefit of these helmets.
To this day I do not know whether Kiri was mad or
brilliant. Why, even now when I think of batting
against Chandra on such pitches I break into a
sweat.'' TE's observation comes to the fore when
one takes into account the sad accident that spelt
finis to the career of yet another Karnataka
wicket-keeper. Sanjay Desai, who along with Roger
Binny was involved in a then world record first
class opening wicket partnership, used to don the
gloves whenever Kirmani was called away on national
duty. Desai had played for Indian schools, Indian
Universities and was a regular member of the
Karnataka team even when the stalwarts were
available. This Ranji Trophy match against Andhra
was held in Manipal, a small university town near
Mangalore. It was not a regular venue for first
class cricket. Although Chandrashekar and EAS
Prasanna, along with GR Vishwanath, Brijesh Patel
and Kirmani, were away in Australia with the Indian
team, there was still left arm spinner B
Vijayakrishna to spearhead the Karnataka attack.
In that match, Vijayakrishna's `chinaman' went
through the last batsman's `gate' and clipped the
bails. Desai, standing up, was unsighted by the
batsman. The flying bail struck him on the left eye
and he permanently lost vision in that eye. Sanjay
Desai cut off in his prime by this unfortunate
accident on the cricket field, never played the
game again. Wicket-keeping, by any yardstick, is a
tough job. Anybody who has seen the battering
Kirmani's hands and fingers have taken over the
years will understand what a toll it takes of the
purveyor of this trade. Kirmani's fingers, for
instance, are all crooked now. Another Karnataka
wicket-keeper of note, Sadanand Vishwanath too took
a lot of punishment behind the sticks. Yet, for all
the hard work and bruises, a wicket-keeper's job is
a thankless one. When he does a good job, few
appreciate it, for it is his business to be
efficient behind the sticks. But when he makes a
small mistake, it is magnified and blown out of
proportion. In an era when with slow motion cameras
and super slow mo' replays help commentators
dissect every fumble or perceived chance, these
mistakes are shown again and again until the
wicket-keeper is made to look silly.
Did this make Rahul wary of wicket-keeping? That
would be a difficult call to make. By nature he is
extremely careful and guarded. He weighs the pros
and cons in every situation before taking any
decision or making a move. And again before he
makes a move he dwells on the minus points before
committing himself. Alternately, he is not one to
flinch from a challenge. It is just that he is not
impulsive. When he walks into a challenge he
ensures he is thoroughly prepared and hence is
seldom caught off guard.
Rahul had kept wickets with some success in his
early teens and at the junior level. He was clean
and effective without being brilliant. It is
possible that his childhood neighbour Sadanand
Vishwanath and his brother Santosh Bhavani both of
whom were wicket-keepers could have subconsciously
prepared him mentally to wicket-keeping. However,
it was his coach during the formative years, Keki
Tarapore -- incidentally Sadanand's coach earlier
-- who introduced him to wicket-keeping. But as
Dravid moved into his late teens he grew taller.
Now Tarapore always nurtured a theory: tall players
do not make for good wicket-keepers. The fact that
top notch wicket-keepers Alan Knot, Syed Kirmani,
Geoff Marsh, Wasim Bari, et al were relatively
short seemed to support his theory. Thus as Rahul
shot up to be a six-footer in his late teens,
Tarapore had a hand in getting him to concentrate
on his batting. However, since he had kept wickets
constantly during his formative years, and in junio
Rahul, though, was not keen on keeping wickets.
Having shunned it at the age of 16 and not having
kept for college, club and state, he just could not
fathom how he would get to keep for India. On the
eve of the 1997-98 season when Rahul was training
at the KSCA stadium, I asked him one morning if he
had ever thought of donning the gloves again,
especially as he was forced to do a little bit of
it on the England tour. Rahul looked horrified. I
pressed that like Alec Stewart had for England;
Rahul could bring a great deal of value addition to
the team if he donned the gloves at least in
one-day internationals. Rahul's reply revealed that
he had already thought this one out in detail,
weighed the pros and cons, and rejected it.
"`I kept during my school days and in junior
cricket. Keeping at the international level is a
totally different ball game altogether. The pulls
and pressures make it a full-time job," he said.
When I persisted and stated that the only problem
would be to keep to Kumble for 10 overs, the
quintessential Rahul came out with a matchless
analysis of the difficulties.
"Actually keeping to Kumble would not be that stiff
a problem. He is not a big spinner of the ball. It
is the subtle variation of pace and spin and the
bounce that I would have to cover. The problem
would be keeping to Sri (Javagal Srinath). He gets
tremendous movement off the seam, even with the new
ball. The problem with keeping to Sri is that most
of the time the tilt is into the right hand batsman
- the unnatural side for me as wicket-keeper. And
the angle of the ball keeps widening. I have kept
in the nets to him and found that the ball, after
passing the batsman, keeps going away on the leg
side. This, at his genuine pace would not only test
the wicket-keeper, but end up bruising the fingers
of his left hand (the right hand batsman's top
hand). Unless a wicket- keeper can collect Sri's
delivery cleanly all the time, he would end up with
broken or bruised fingers."
Since those days, Rahul's value as a batsman has
increased tremendously. On many an occasion he is
reckoned as the team's number one batsman. And for
him to flirt with a trade that exposes his precious
left hand to probable injury would be suicidal.
Many purists have denounced the decision to make
him keep wickets for the country. This includes
Syed Kirmani, India's finest wicket-keeper to date.
Kirmani, as the chairman of the National selectors
has gone on record that he does not approve of
Rahul keeping wickets.
"In my opinion India should unearth a specialist
wicket-keeper who can bat a bit as soon as
possible. The team management consisting of the
skipper, vice-captain and coach and the national
selectors have banked on Rahul to keep wickets in
one-dayers. Of course the interests of the team
come first. But sooner or later the interests of
the team would be in ensuring that Rahul is in
prime condition to bat at his best and a specialist
wicket-keeper is left to do the job behind the
stumps," said Kirmani. However, what would always
be the amazing aspect of Indian cricket would be
how Rahul, who literally gave up wicket-keeping at
the age of 16, did not keep for college, club or
state, was dragged into keeping for the country
after a seven-year break. History would also show
the irony of how despite two of India's finest
wicket-keepers, Kirmani and Kiran More being in the
five-man national selection committee and setting
the agenda for team selection, the team's faith was
placed on a reluctant wicket-keeper's ability to
dig deep into his motivational powers and keep for
the country at the highest level.
Rahul has already kept wickets at the World Cup
level. There is nothing higher than that. It is one
of the quirks of fate that try as he did to give up
wicket-keeping, it was something that simply would
not go away. When Rahul finally hangs up his boots
- or should it be gloves - it would be interesting
to see the impact wicket-keeping made on his
overall career. Certainly his wicket-keeping saga
would rank as the most peculiar cases in the
history of the game.
Extracted from Rahul Dravid A Biography by Vedam
Jaishankar.