A hit in the park

Strolling around to a shady spot under the trees, I was just in time to watch the shot of the afternoon. Coming off a long run, the pace bowler pitched the ball a fraction outside off stump. The batsman leaned forward and the bat arced gracefully down. Both the fielders in the covers started to move but then froze as the ball sped between them to the boundary. Even from that distance the high elbow and the flourish with which the stroke was played were unmistakeable. This time, though, they weren't accompanied by any frenzied applause from the crowd. In fact, there was hardly a crowd, just a couple of dozen stragglers, a handful of journalists, and a camera crew waiting for their exclusive.

Rahul Dravid came down the pitch to pat it before settling back into his stance. As the men he had led for two years prepared for a marquee one-day series against Pakistan, he was back where it had all began, with his Karnataka team-mates, preparing for the Ranji season and the two matches that he will get as practice before the three-Test series against Pakistan starts on November 22.

The opposition was provided by a Kerala team on its way to Nagpur. As their coach watched from a bench, taking notes every so often, he was joined by Tinu Yohannan, one of Indian cricket's recent what-might-have-been stories. Four years before Sreesanth made his debut and became the focal point of Kerala's media and garish advertising hoardings, Yohannan had been a trailblazer, dismissing Marcus Trescothick on an impressive debut at Mohali.

Unlike Yohannan, who faded so fast that he no longer even inhabits Indian cricket's fringes, Dravid is far from finished. And even though this was the playing field of the Rajendra Singhji Institute and not the Eden Gardens, his approach was as meticulous as ever. Good deliveries were patted back, the time between overs spent working on the stance, and the loose balls put away across an outfield that was more cabbage patch than Bermuda grass.

With spin at both ends, Dravid found the gaps easily enough, even playing a fine lap-sweep that raced to fine leg. On a pitch so sluggish that most cuts went through the covers, and against bowlers who weren't in the class of Mohammad Asif or Danish Kaneria, the only danger appeared to be a lapse in concentration. When he miscued one off the leading edge to midwicket, there were a few chirps of encouragement for the bowler. No one dared, however, to sledge the batsman.

Just before tea, as Sunil Joshi - another man who owns an India cap or two - crashed a few fours himself, the Kerala side had their moment in the sun. Dravid rocked back to cut a delivery too close to him, and the edge was smartly taken at slip. B Prasanth, the left-arm spinner who got the wicket, will no doubt treasure the moment for a lifetime.

Dravid walked off slowly, staring ruefully at the outer edge of the bat. As practice went, it had been a decent outing - 49 runs from 86 balls in a shade under two hours. When he emerged from the tiny dressing room minutes later, the tea was waiting, in little plastic cups rather than bone china. As he was sipping it and talking to Joshi, who continues to be a domestic titan a decade after his international career fizzled out, he was immediately besieged by the TV crew.

"For two years all I've done is talk for the cameras," he told them with a smile. "Just leave me be for now. Let me just enjoy playing a match and spending some time with my friends." Having warded off the lenses, he took his time to sign a handful of autographs, including one from a man whose pocket diary had a picture of Dravid on the front page.

As a press photographer clicked away, Dravid even found time for some levity. "Make sure you don't stop here. Anil Kumble will be here tomorrow. You'd better be around to take pictures of him as well."

The next three weeks will be devoted to the serious business of rediscovering the form that deserted him against a relentless Australian side in the recent one-day series. "I have two games, one against Mumbai [starting on November 3], and another against Himachal," he said. "It will be good to spend some time in the middle."

The brow was no longer creased with worry, and there was more than a laugh or two as he caught up with old mates and young hopefuls who were clearly delighted by the opportunity to spend time with one of the game's greats. In some ways, with the open space, the traffic noises from the MG and Cubbon Roads, and the huge trees dotting the ground, it was a surreal image - a bit like catching Mick Jagger and Keith Richards playing on a street corner in Soho.

Four years ago Shane Warne started his rehabilitation in the wake of the drugs ban in the similarly nondescript surroundings of St Kilda's Junction Oval, in a match for Victoria's second XI. He went on to enjoy three glorious years before the triumphant exit in Sydney last January. If the final chapter of Dravid's career is anything near as productive, this little piece of parkland in the heart of Bangalore would have done Indian cricket a huge favour.