Dravid's masterclass
If bygone generations of Indian fans were openlyenthralled by - and secretly coveted - an unendingline of Pakistani pacemen, so too will this generationof Pakistani fans come to appreciate and marvel at thecurrent generation of Indian batsmen
The Verdict by Osman Samiuddin in Kolkata
16-Mar-2005
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If bygone generations of Indian fans were openly
enthralled by - and secretly coveted - an unending
line of Pakistani pacemen, so too will this generation
of Pakistani fans come to appreciate and marvel at the
current generation of Indian batsmen and envy them. In
each case, the enchantment, the fascination has been a
derivative as much of their wondrous skills as a
glaring paucity of similar resources.
Who, for instance, in the Pakistani line-up, can match
the sheer ballast of Virender Sehwag? Against Pakistan
in this series, Sehwag has pillaged runs. Today, with
minimum foot movement and fuss, as his is wont, and
maximum hand-eye coordination and threat, as is his
nature, he cut and drove at will, usually audaciously
and imperiously.
Arguably Inzamam-ul-Haq, now at his peak, possesses the
mastery over conditions and bowling as Sachin
Tendulkar once did. Tendulkar provided a brief glimpse of his skill,
passing his 10,000th run and compiling a composed 40th
Test fifty. But the one batsman, the glittering jewel
in a lavishly studded crown, that Pakistan must crave
for the most is Rahul Dravid.
Last year, when Dravid compiled that immense 270 at
Rawalpindi, Yasir Hameed, standing at point, dropped a
sitter on 71. Hameed confessed later, only
half-jokingly but revealingly, that he was taking
lessons in watching a master at work. Those two days
in Rawalpindi, the sun beat down relentlessly, much
like Eden Gardens today. As much as the heat, Dravid can be sapping on opposition bowlers.
Ball after ball he repels with a painstakingly,
composed and studious defense, standing up straight
and tall for anything short and crouching forward to
swat any mischief in the bounce or movement for fuller-length deliveries. And just in case he still gets
beaten by either, he brings soft hands into play,
killing off any unnecessary edges. On this base, he
builds.
His first boundary against Abdul Razzaq was special,
leaning into a wide, good-length delivery and driving
through just wide of mid-off. To bring up his 19th
century late in the afternoon, he saved his best. When
Mohammad Sami, beginning an energetic spell, pitched
wide, he got down on one knee to steer through the
covers. Next ball, to bring up the landmark, he leant
down on a ball drifting onto middle and, with a
straight bat and a twinkle of the wrists, drove
between mid-on and midwicket. Many batsmen,
particularly from this part of the world, would have
put it squarer, with exaggerated and more supple
wrist work, but not Dravid.
When he got something short enough, he recoiled;
crouch down, step forward then lean back, move and
position the feet wide enough for balance, and uncoil
a cut, late or early. For effect, to highlight the
extent of his mastery perhaps, he nonchalantly picked
up a legspinner from Kaneria outside off-stump over
his head for six, a rare result of any Dravid shot.
For much of the day, there was little Pakistan's
meagre resources could do but watch the masterclass,
hoping maybe to pick up a tip here or there. They were
committed in the field and although their bowling
currently is unlikely to be anyone's object of envy,
you can't fault it for perseverance. Shahid Afridi
added an unlikely chapter to the story of his recent
redemption, hurrying batsmen, mixing his spin and pace
and running onto the pitch twice for added drama.
Supported well by Razzaq and, towards the end of the day, by Sami, they made up for an understandably fatigued
Danish Kaneria.
But most noticeable, and as a parting thought,
consider this. Pakistan's fightback in the final
session occurred without Inzamam on the field and
Younis Khan as stand-in. You can put it down to
coincidence, as something that just happens in
cricket, or you can conclude that Pakistan's rewards
in the last session were the result of their
emancipation from Inzamam's lethargy as a leader.
Certainly the verve and visible enthusiasm with which
Younis ran around the field, marshalling
fielders, setting fields and talking regularly, almost
excessively, to his bowlers, contrasted starkly with
Inzamam. Was his vibrancy infectious enough for the
team to respond in kind and haul back what could have
been a desperate situation? Or was it just
happenstance that this team, which in any case has
developed a will to fight, most memorably and recently
in Mohali, did so with Inzamam off the field?
Osman Samiuddin is a freelance writer based in Karachi.