The Surfer

It didn't help that Kambli, despite his best intentions, had the tactfulness of a five-year-old. There's a story about him that a Mumbai cricketer once shared. When Kambli, still 17, hit his first ball in Ranji Trophy for a six, he immediately held up his hand to stop the non-striker from taking a run. "Kambli was sure so he had hit the ball for a six, he didn't want to waste his energy running for that shot," the cricketer said. But the non-striker was a heavyweight in Indian cricket and a man not to be trifled with.

Is it a lack of technique that has prevented the 29-year-old from nailing down a Test match slot despite eight years and 37 games? Is it a lack of temperament? Of hunger, desire and ambition? Is it the absence of that single-mindedness and unwavering discipline that the five-day game necessarily demands? Or is it just plain bad luck, in the shape of untimely illnesses and injuries?

No other sport played a bigger part in bringing down apartheid than cricket and it all came about because of the ugly scenario in 1968. D'Oliveira's is the example I use when people tell me sport and politics should never mix. Sport can have huge political influence in the right situation.

There are theories as to why cricket seems to have such a high rate of self-destruction (to which may be added alcoholism, which is what one might term Suicide Mark 2). It seems to me that the long days of dedication which cricket demands by its often punishing format can wear a man down, especially when he doesn’t know where his next run or wicket is coming from. Despite the comradeship on the field and in the dressing-room and club bar, a man who is out of sorts still needs somehow to find a good night’s sleep.

"The Swann book wasn't ideal. If we can avoid situations like that they're best avoided because we pretty much live together for a large chunk of the year. For instance in 2012 we are going to be away from our own homes for 240-plus nights. When you are living together like that as a group you're not going to agree on everything but there needs to be a degree of harmony and honesty.

'That situation arose and I think it was dealt with efficiently and maturely by both guys, especially Kevin Pietersen. He conducted himself well through a tricky situation. I know it sounds a little silly but I was proud of him."

Firstly, the high performance programme will or should ideally consist of three tiers: the Indian national team, the India 'A' squad, and the High Performance/Academy structure, with the country's top fifty-sixty players as a part of this setup. This is much like football clubs across Europe (the first team, reserves and the academy). Each individual unit will have close to 20 players each on full-time contracts with dedicated coaching and support staff. What this ensures is the automatic expansion of available bench strength to a minimum of 30 players, and a maximum of 60. The three primary objectives of the High Performance mechanism will be intake, exposure and evaluation.

This is an unusual and chilling premise which seems to fly in the face of common perception. What makes a cricketer so different from a footballer or Formula One driver, one may ask. But documented evidence would suggest that the premise is not entirely unfounded, for suicides in cricket seem to outnumber those in any other sport several times over.

It is no small thing to take anyone under one's wing and to proceed to nurture them with everything one has, including one's own resources. For what it's worth Peter had over 35 Zimbabweans in his capable care at the time of his death and my guess is that he had spent something in the region of $500,000 of his personal funds to help realise some African dreams. Put it this way: whatever the precise circumstances of his death he has left the world a better place.

Most poignant of all now is to reflect on Roebuck's almost triumphant claim in that foreword: "Some people have predicted a gloomy end for this writer," he wrote of himself. "It will not be so."

In walked Gavaskar at No. 8, and when he took leg stump guard with a left-hand batsman's stance, everyone on the ground was shocked. Raghuram Bhatt, remembering the incident, says, "I just couldn't believe my eyes. But he batted superbly. I had six fielders around the bat, but Sunil would play with soft hands and drop the ball dead at his feet or pad up. That was master class of how to play on a turning wicket. Mind you, he batted for a long time."