Rahul Sharad Dravid
This is a collection of articles archived for the excellence of their content. |
A profile
Source:
1.[ From the archives of the Times of India], Bobilli Vijay Kumar
2.[ From the archives of the Times of India], Boria Majumdar
A Classical Hero For Modern India
Rahul Dravid epitomised the best traits of a resurgent country as it moved into a new century
His arrival in mid-1996 on the horizon of India’s cricketscape could not have come at a better time. Just as a liberalised India was opening up and making giant strides in the world – and just when middle-class Indians, uninhibited and confident, were leaving home shores to stake a claim to the world’s treasures – arrived Rahul Dravid to control and steer Indian cricket forward. Dravid was symptomatic of the mid-1990s India; strongly nationalist and resurgent, determined and passionate, committed and hard-working. Of a middle-class ethos and with a global outlook, Dravid was a product of his time. The away pitches of Australia, South Africa and England did not scare him for he represented a different India, hardly ever insecure. Not as talented perhaps as the other legendary number three, Ricky Ponting, Dravid epitomised virtues which a turn of the century India would need; reliability, reliability and further reliability. Even when things did not necessarily go his way like in Australia in December-January 2012, his commitment never wavered. He was the first and only Indian at the MCG at 9 am on Christmas day to practise against hundreds of throwdowns ahead of the Boxing Day Test. He would even shadow bat over dinner when things weren’t going his way as manager G S Walia later recounted. How do we define Rahul Dravid in a sentence? The task might sound impossible but isn’t so in reality. In fact, the answer is fairly simple. Had Sachin Tendulkar not played his cricket at the same time, Dravid would surely be the best batsman to have ever played the game for India. At a time when we are ruing our sudden dip in form in overseas conditions, Dravid’s achievements overseas, more than anything else, appear staggering. In the pre-Rahul Dravid era, India hardly ever won a Test match on foreign soil, the presence of Sunil Gavaskar notwithstanding. Port of Spain 1976 or England 1986 were aberrations that were few and far between. Most if not all of India’s famous away wins between 2002-08 have one common factor, Dravid. Not always associated with his style of batsmanship, Dravid has been the catalyst for all of India’s famous overseas Test wins in the course of the last decade, a record incredible enough to catapult him to the echelons of the game’s greatest of all time. Rediscovering himself against Steve Waugh’s Australians at the Eden Gardens in Kolkata in 2001 with a peerless 180, in the process helping V V S Laxman to his magical 281, Dravid fashioned the Headingley (2002), Adelaide (2003-04), Rawalpindi (2004), Kingston (2006) and Perth (2008) away wins for his team. His scores in these matches, 148, 232 and 72, 270, 81 and 68 in a low-scoring contest in Jamaica and 93 are Bradmanesque figures, which put the debate over who is the best ever number three of all time after the Don himself to rest once and for all. No tribute to Rahul Dravid can be complete without mentioning his off-field persona. Even when the going was tough, he exuded a sense of calm at press conferences, just like the way be batted. Comparable perhaps to the State Bank of India in his qualities, unfailing and purely Indian, not without reason is Dravid recognised as a true ambassador of the game in an era of hyper-nationalism and aggressiveness. Gesticulating to the crowd or hurling abuses at the opposition just isn’t Dravid, as also misbehaving with scribes or acting in a high-handed manner. Not without reason does Tendulkar say, “There was, and is, only one Rahul Dravid and there can be no other.” The other interesting attribute without mentioning which an assessment of Dravid remains incomplete is his emphasis on what he called “the importance of ugliness” as a standout quality in any cricketer. While serving as guest editor of the Times of India he was forthright in observing that the achievement he values the most is the "ugly hundred" – a century that is achieved despite poor form, touch and timing by virtue of sheer determination and unflinching commitment and integrity in one’s approach to the game. Dravid, it is universally accepted, wasn’t particularly suited to the 50-over format. Yet, he ended up scoring 10,000 runs. This statistic, more than any other, defines Dravid the cricketer. Prepared to struggle and prepared to be uncomfortable for long periods if need be, he is a rare species in an age of T20 cricket. Talking about the need for accountability and modesty for cricketers in the course of his much appreciated Donald Bradman oration in December 2011, Dravid had an interesting take on legacy in the context of continuing when you aren’t doing well and in the process tarnishing your legacy. He echoed the Australian swimmer Ian Thorpe’s words, “'I can sacrifice my legacy for the love of the sport.” There can be no other cricketer who can say such a thing for there can be no other Dravid. To conclude, it is fitting to leave the last words on Dravid to Tendulkar, who has spent more time with him on the field than any other player over the last 16 years. “For someone who has played 164 Test matches and scored 13,200-plus runs, no tribute can be enough.”
Like Arjuna, he only saw the bird’s eye
He was Arjuna; he would go on to become one of the greatest archers, if not the most accomplished warrior in mythology. Dravid’s rise to legendary proportions also rode on similar traits: unflinching focus and unyielding dedication for his skill. Like the Pandava, he too had been marked out for greatness at an early stage; but he traversed the horizons and reached that destination by tangoing with perfection, all along the way.
Being intelligent, charming and good-looking, he could easily have succumbed to any of the vices, or all the temptations; but he rarely looked beyond the eye, he never really saw the bird. He could shut himself from the world, or simply shut the world to find solace in a book, in his hotel room. Sunil Gavaskar’s preparation, famously, started about 30 minutes before he went out to bat; for Dravid, though, the exercise would begin almost 30 days earlier. Like an earnest student preparing for a big exam, he would study the itinerary carefully; he would dig into the background of the pitches and analyse the bowlers he was going to face. If it was South Africa or Australia, he would work on his hook and pull shots, with wet tennis balls; if it was England, he would hone his forward defensive leaves, making sure his head was over the ball or was ready to weave in or out of its line. It didn’t end there though: once he landed, he would find time to grasp the history of the city, just to feel its air and catch its spirit. It has a liberating effect on Dravid. On the eve of the match too, he has a different routine: with a bat in hand, often without it too, he would spend close to 30 minutes by the pitch. It’s almost like he was trying to unravel its mysteries, befriending the devils within; he would meditate and he would indulge in positive visualisation, thinking of all his previous big knocks here. He, then, would close his eyes and play and replay all his strokes.
By the end of it, he seems healed; you can almost sense that he is in a zone of his own. There were, of course, times when his elaborate preparation didn’t yield the desired results; but until the just-concluded Australian tour, it had mostly been to unplayable deliveries, death balls that would materialise from nowhere just for him. At that point, probably, Dravid knew it was time to go: six times bowled out of eight would have broken even Arjuna. It’s ironic that just a few months earlier, in England, he was batting on a different plane. While the rest were collapsing, he was virtually unbeatable; the pitches were difficult, the bowlers fast and aggressive, but nobody could get past him. For all his numbers (13,288 runs. 36 tons. 210 catches and One-dayers), the ride has not always been easy though; he was shunted up and down the order before he commandeered the most pivotal slot: Number 3. In One-dayers, too, he had to make peace with the big gloves merely to keep himself afloat. Yet, he had the courage to walk away from the one thing every player aspires for: India’s captaincy. It wasn’t just that the hype was breaching his sanctum sanctorum, the private space that he so dearly cherished; it was the pressures and politics from within which were leaving him a shattered person. He’d rather lose the coveted prize than lose his faith in people, in friends. So, in a way, he didn’t give up the captaincy; he renounced it. His goal was never to be India’s top captain; he simply wanted to be one of its best batsmen. And he realized quickly enough that this was blurring his target, that he couldn’t shoot well enough; in no time, he was only seeing the bird’s eye again. Yes, it took him almost three years to reach the pinnacle of his batsmanship, at the same place where the journey had begun 16 years ago: England
Farewell from Cricket
[ From the archives of the Times of India]
(As told to Satish Viswanathan)
Exceptional student of the game: By Anil Kumble
Right from the day Rahul Dravid made his debut for Karnataka, we knew he would go on to play for India. In terms of batting technique, he was a genius. Also, his commitment and approach to the game was there for all to see. He had to wait probably for five years before he made his debut for India, although it was in the One-day format. He established himself during England’s tour of 1996. From there on, he never looked back. Dravid had to make a lot of changes in his game, especially in the One-day format, when people questioned his ability to force the pace. Credit must be given to the way he adapted to One-dayers and later the T20 format. Every time questions were asked about him, he would spend extra time preparing himself to counter the new challenges. He was an exceptional student of the game and very committed. He was probably too involved in the game, and maybe that element of enjoyment that you seek when you are not that involved was probably missing, especially in the latter part of his career. I felt he was trying to focus too hard. But he kept working on his game every time he came back from a series. If he got out to someone twice in a similar fashion, he would work in the nets even if he had been dismissed after scoring 150. I remember in the Delhi Test against Pakistan, my first Test as captain, he got out to Shoaib Akhtar in the second innings. We won the game chasing 140. He got out to Shoaib scoring some 40-odd runs to a reverse swinger, bowled: similar to how he got out in Australia a few weeks back. The next two days he was in the nets. That is how he was. Rahul was an exceptional guy to have in the team, you could send him to bat whenever you wanted and he would never complain. He adapted to all these roles very well. He has done everything he could on the cricket field. When he looks back, I’m sure he will look back with a lot of pride and satisfaction at the way he has gone about getting those 13,000 Test runs and 10,000 One-day runs. I’m sure he will be proud of his achievements. Is there anything missing? I am not sure, may be a triple hundred. But he himself said that if he has to get one he has to bat for three days, which is tough since he gets dehydrated very quickly. It is never easy giving up. He just had probably one bad series in 15 years. I think he has done everything one can ask from a cricketer.
‘I have lived in a cocoon’
There were no tears shed, but the emotions were overflowing when Rahul Dravid announced his retirement on Friday. Surely, it would have been tempting to carry on for that one more series, that one home Test where the adoring fans could come together to provide the right setting? "I don’t think it is right just to keep playing for the sake of one Test," Dravid said, "I don’t think that was the way I played the game. It was important for me to move on. I needed to play for the right reasons and as much as I respect other people’s feelings that I should have played another Test, I hope they will respect and appreciate my feelings." Understandably, everyone present at the Chinnaswamy Stadium - including Dravid himself - would have had mixed feelings. It must have been a huge decision for Dravid to take. "When you leave something like playing for India - a life that I have lived for close to 16 years and five years before that of firstclass cricket, it is tough. It’s all I had known all my growing life," he started. "From that point of view it was difficult decision. But it also wasn’t a difficult decision for me because I knew in my heart deep down that the time was right. I was very happy and comfortable in what I had achieved and what I had done. It is hard in a way and it’s also easy in a way." Dravid was also at pains to point out that he would have hung up his boots even if the Australia tour had gone India’s and his way. “Irrespective of how it went, I was sure that after the Australia tour I would sit down and look at a lot of things. Now it is easy for me to say but I would like to think that I would have come to the same conclusion." He added: "I truly believe that a little bit of time away from the game will be good for me. I have played this game for 20 years and lived in a cocoon, a surreal world. It has been away from reality in some ways and so many former cricketers have told me that if I get away from the game for me a while, it will give you a better perspective and you will be able to come back and look at things differently. When you play, it is difficult to see things from outside. Whatever decisions I take will be based on the fact that I have a young family.” DRAVID TALK
ON WHAT THE MONIKER ‘WALL’ MEANS TO HIM
“I never really took it seriously. I will be honest with you that when people called me ‘Wall’ I used to joke they were setting up me because after I fail, it is easier for them to say that there is a brick in the wall, the foundations are weak, the wall is missing — I mean for the people who put the headlines and make the copies. So they would say let’s put the ‘Wall’ so that later we can use it. I know that a lot of people call me that very fondly and I respect that. But I never really thought that I was a ‘Wall’ whenever I walked out to the middle.”
WHAT HE WILL MISS THE MOST
“I know what I am going to miss the most is being part of a unit. The joy of bonding together and striving to achieve a goal is what made cricket special for me.” ON TAKING THE RETIREMENT CALL “There was no eureka moment that forced me into taking the decision to retire. A lot of these decisions come to you. I felt it was the right time to move on and for the next generation to come forward.”
ON THE IMPORTANCE OF CATCHES
“Nothing frustrates me more than dropping a catch. When one gets out, one can get over it in 15-20 minutes. But when you drop a catch in the slip cordon, it stays with me for a very long time, that hurts in a lot of ways.”
