Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Dravid, the Hurricane Man - NYTimes.com

Sidin says Dravid was our Hurricane man in one day matches compared to the spitfire of rest of the team!

Dravid, the Hurricane Man - NYTimes.com

Saturday, August 27, 2011

we will miss Test match specialist Rahul Dravid; his duel with Shane Warne was thrilling - Telegraph

Tanya Aldred: we will miss Test match specialist Rahul Dravid; his duel with Shane Warne was thrilling - Telegraph

One of the wonderful article about Dravid and his dual with Warne

Back in July 2000 the old ground was saying goodbye to first-class cricket — a victim of poor pitch reports and an alluring Rose Bowl flouncing her wares over in West End. The summer sun was meltingly gorgeous and there were ice-creams in the press box. The salt on the warm wind seasoned the skin and seagulls patrolled the ground for rogue cheese and onion crisps.

The final championship game at the ground was between Hampshire and Kent, which for that season meant Shane Warne and Dravid — riches unimaginable today. And the match became Warne against Dravid, flamboyance against rectitude, passion against calm, genius against near-genius.

Warne, who had claimed supremacy over Dravid, pulled every one of his multiple tricks; Dravid, who had claimed he could read Warne from the hand, watched, waited and masterfully dispatched; the holiday crowd who had paid just £9 to get in sat in rapt concentration. The winner? Dravid, with 137, 73 not out and a Kent victory to his name. And as he walked off after his 137, every Hampshire player, every spectator and every journalist, stood and applauded.

To see such a duel, such brilliance somewhere so unexpected, only added to the thrill.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Dravid. With his good-boy’s haircut, old-fashioned parting and his long lean but slightly awkward limbs, he has more of the air of an excellent GP than an international athlete.

He has taken the No 3 spot in the Indian Test line up, the spot of princes — Ponting, Richards, Gower – but without a whiff of the romance that comes with it. For a while he even had to suffer the indignity of being booed when he came out to bat at home, because he wasn’t the next player in, he wasn’t Sachin Tendulkar.

He has borne the tribulation of being the least lauded of India’s Olympian batting line-up with a quiet shrug, possibly of relief. With neither the pizzazz of Virender Sehwag, the worshipped touch of Tendulkar, nor the silky stroke play of VVS Laxman, he got lumbered with the nickname 'The Wall’ — not, surely, an epithet he conjured up as a dreamy young boy batting on the streets of Bangalore.

And how unfair! He is so, so much more than a stolid, red-brick defender.

His wrist can flick with exquisite grace, his timing can take your breath away, his calm creates chaos in an opponents’ mind. He is a classical Test match specialist, neat of shirt and of stroke. Who knows, with the ubiquity of Twenty20, whether he is a dying breed. His willingness to compromise, move positions, take the gloves, captain the side, practise diplomacy and concentrate, concentrate, concentrate has helped India out of many a hole.

He is also, and by the by, the most successful slip-catcher in Test history.

And in his finest hour, at Eden Gardens, 10 years ago this March, he and Laxman changed the course of cricket history. Their fifth-wicket partnership of 376 took India from certain defeat to the brink of what was to be an amazing victory against Australia.

There is a photograph of the two of them walking off undefeated on the fourth day, their young faces dazed, triumphant and exhausted. Never have whites seemed more iconic. India’s victory on the fifth day ended Australia’s run of 16 Test victories in a row; and kick-started a triumphant period which may only be coming to an end now — as England rise and Dravid, Tendulkar and VVS prepare to dust the shelves for whatever is the Board of Control for Cricket in India’s equivalent of a carriage clock.

When Dravid made 95 on his Test debut at Lord’s in 1996, he was overshadowed by a century by fellow debutant Sourav Ganguly and Dickie Bird’s tearful farewell.

Fifteen years on, his au revoir to Test cricket in England will be overshadowed by tearful farewells to Tendulkar.

I didn’t see Dravid at Eden Gardens 10 years ago, and I didn’t see him at Trent Bridge last week, but I did see him do battle with Warne over four wonderful days at Portsmouth, and I feel truly lucky.

If you are lucky enough to be at Edgbaston on Sunday, wish him well.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Spin | Rahul Dravid's displays in a losing cause were an achievement to cherish | Rob Smyth | Sport | guardian.co.uk

The Spin | Rahul Dravid's displays in a losing cause were an achievement to cherish | Rob Smyth | Sport | guardian.co.uk


Rahul Dravid's displays in a losing cause were an achievement to cherish

Almost impossibly, over the last few weeks Gentleman Rahul has made us admire him even more than ever before

Rahul Dravid leaves the field
Rahul Dravid leaves the field. Photograph: Andrew Boyers/Action Images

EVERY LOSER WINS

It's one of sport's more lamentable clichés. "Yeah it's true I've just scored 502 not out, cured baldness and had a night of unprecedented feral fun with the my chosen one, but I'd swap it all for a team victory." We shouldn't blame sportsmen for uttering this nonsense – society has become so nuance-averse and addicted to fabricated anger that the players court unjust opprobrium if they say anything different. Yet it was refreshing to hear the wonderful Rahul Dravid ignore all those distractions and assert calmly that his performances this summer have given him a "degree of personal satisfaction", even if India's defeat left him with "mixed feelings".

Dravid has always been one of the most admirable men in sport yet, almost impossibly, over the last few weeks he has made us admire him more than ever before. He batted with immense pride and dignity to make three centuries, two of them as a stand-in opener, a role he has never enjoyed. Dravid was both kingpin and handyman. He filled in not just as opener but also as wicketkeeper when MS Dhoni bowled at Lord's; he also defused any lingering controversy over the Ian Bell incident at Trent Bridge with an honest and perfectly judged interview at the close of play. You wouldn't be surprised to hear he also fixed a leak in the dressing-room and drove the team coach back to the hotel one night.

To see one of the great players so willing to get hands dirty, and still perform with his usual pristine excellence, was a joy. For all England's extraordinary excellence, some will always associate this summer with Gentleman Rahul, an immaculate human being who is part 1940s film star, part modern man; a good man, and thorough.

The fact Dravid made his runs while India were whitewashed will mean a devaluation in some quarters. The question of runs made in a losing cause has always vexed those who spend half their day leering at cricket statistics. It is preferable to make runs in a victory, such is cricket's fusion of individual and team sports, yet it is absurd to dismiss runs made in a losing cause. It's so much more complicated than that. To take an extreme example, Ian Bell hit 162 not out in a win over Bangladesh in 2005 and a four-hour 87 in defeat against Australia at Perth in 2006-07. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know which was the superior innings, or what should have given him more satisfaction.

Instead of looking at winning and losing runs, we should instead focus on tough and easy runs. Dravid has always specialised in the former. It is certainly not fair to bracket all losing runs together. Some are worthier than others, and few are as worthy as those made while you are along on the burning deck. The banner at The Oval – "England v The Wall" – was pretty apt. In this series Dravid batted for 1,476 minutes, almost twice the next best (Sachin Tendulkar's 745). He made 461 runs at an average of 76.83, which accounted for 23% of India's runs. In the tone-setting first innings, he made 388 runs at an average of 184, and 35% of India's runs. The record belongs to Brian Lara, who made a staggering 42% of West Indies' runs in Sri Lanka in 2001-02; West Indies were thrashed 3-0, yet Lara scored 688 runs in those three Tests, first muzzling and then mastering Murali.

West Indies were so abject for much of Lara's career that he made 5,316 in Test defeats – over a thousand more than the next highest, his erstwhile colleague Shiv Chanderpaul. Some people feel this statistic compromises Lara's genius; if anything, it embellishes it. So many of Lara's runs were made when he was completely alone. This is also why Dravid's best hundred of the series was arguably his last. During the first two he had a legitimate expectation that his runs might win the match and the series. At The Oval, however, the series was gone, and it very quickly became apparent that India were going to lose the match regardless of what Dravid did. While human beings are intrinsically selfish, that selfishness is often, paradoxical as it sounds, supported by external concerns – whether it's doing it for the team, your family, your boss, whoever. We should not confuse selfishness with self-worth; doing it only for yourself can be the scariest and hardest thing of all.

Dravid had all the excuses he needed to fail. It would have been natural to allow the tiredness to take hold, yet he somehow managed to achieve and maintain the higher state of concentration necessary to resist the Chinese Water Torture of England's bowling. Given the innate precariousness of batting – one false move and you're history – and the fact that the nature of Dravid's game meant he could not play with the freedom of the damned, it was a staggering achievement. And one that, whatever the book of clichés tell you, he should remember with pride for the rest of his days.