The dust bowl and desert storm

The great cricket writer Neville Cardus once remarked: "We remember not the scores and the results in after years; it is the men who remain in our minds, in our imagination." Cardus closed his eyes in 1975. Our man who matters was only a two-year-old then; at the least toddling around his house in Mumbai or at the most busy flailing his tennis racket ala childhood hero John McEnroe. In all obviousness it is hard to say whether the greatest writer missed the greatest cricketer or was it the other way round. But Cardus, taking into account all the greatness of the Don Bradmans and the Jack Hobbs he had seen and taken account of, had...

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Innings unmatched and that great catch

As BBC puts it: “The grandeur of Lord's may have played host to India's memorable 1983 World Cup final win, but the momentum of that unlikely victory was founded in far less salubrious surroundings.” It happened that day; the stage was Nevill Ground, Royal Tunbridge Wells and the date was June 18, 1983. Twenty-twelve was not known of and Titanic- the movie was not yet made, maybe the world was not used to unexpected disasters. Under overcast conditions, India won the toss and elected to bat against minnows Zimbabwe. The pundits might have expected the elite list of Indian batsmen to plunder the toddlers of international cricket...

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Kings were two good

I don’t rate Viv Richards above the game but he was in a genre of his own. In an era when cricket was still in its well-ironed shirt and pleated pajama, Richards was no masquerader. With rolled-up shirt, chewing gum in mouth, flailing his bat he would come, see and conquer just as lyrically as it would be had poetries been written with sledgehammer.  That day was no different. West Indies was off to a bad start losing Haynes, Greenidge, Kallicharan and Lloyd in quick succession and with just 99 runs on the board. Now it was up to Richards and his new found ally, the unheralded, Collis King and what followed was heartless slaughtering....

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Garner and his English prey

Fast bowlers look up to him for inspiration and batsmen never looked into his eyes- had you said this, any one would have believed, after all he was 6 feet and 8 inches above the ground like a betel nut tree add to that the late afternoon gloom and the shade would almost engulf you into its realm. Jokes apart, Garner garnered respect and educed fear for his impeccable line and length, combined with ruthless pace, deadly bouncers and toe-crushing yorkers. And England got them all in the final of 1979. The stage was set by Vivian Richards’ 138 and Collis King’s swashbuckling 86 off 75 balls. Courtesy, those masterly knocks, West-Indies piled...

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When big cat crossed the Aussie way

The carpet was laid for the show to be absorbing, the house was full as much as it could afford but what followed was Shakespearean Romeo-Juliet told in James Bond style. Romantic action or action in romance- It was complete panache, totemic of the calypso kings.  “If you are going to lose, the man you’d like to see beat you is Clive Lloyd,” says Ian Chappell, the losing captain 1975 World Cup, in remembrance of their loss to West Indies that day. Mind you! Aussies are sour losers and this coming from the captain of the crew speaks volumes about Lloyd and his innings.   The venue was Lord's, and the game's Mecca was bathed in...

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Gilmour- 'Six for' and a bit more

"You never knew with Ian Chappell what was going to happen until it happened," said Gary Gilmour, in an interview with The Age, much later after his name got embalmed in pages of history.    It was unexpected, to say the least, or else, who would have expected the water boy of the previous matches to leave the royal Brits gasping for water, that too, in their own backyard.  Throughout the World cup, Gilmour had been warming the benches, swatting flies and minding his mane. It was sheer serendipity that Gary (or Gus as he is fondly called) got included in the playing eleven for the semi-final against England.  More surprising...

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