If you haven't already, head over to Balanced Sports to see my tribute to Anil Kumble. I don't know why I hadn't written one before, but I have now, and it's great (but of course I would say that). Anyway, here's the piece, if clicking on links isn't your thing.
The lasting image of Indian cricket in the 1990s is that
of a young Sachin rising to prominence, fulfilling the prophecies that had
marked him as a demi-god early on.
However, only a few months after the Test debut of India’s
greatest batsman, another young man began his Test career; a man who was
India’s steadiest, most consistent bowler in the 90s, who would eventually
become India’s highest wicket-taker.
If you’re thinking of Venkatapathy Raju or Atul Wassan, stop.
The man I’m speaking of is Anil Kumble, one-third of the 600-wicket club
alongside fellow leggie Shane Warne and fellow Beethoven-lover (I cannot
confirm that) Muttiah Muralitharan.
My own fascination with Anil Kumble cannot really be
attributed to one thing in particular. Entering the teen years for me was like
waking up from the Matrix; I was suddenly aware of cricket and I decided that I
liked it. India had been beaten in the World Cup final a few months earlier,
and now they were playing the champions in their backyard. I didn’t know many
of the players, so I was free to make my own judgements without being
influenced by reputation.
I saw Kumble running in to bowl over after over,
seemingly every day, with the bouncy run-up and the skillful release from high
above his wiry frame. I got to see plenty of him in my first full Test series,
because he bowled in excess of 40 overs in four out of the six Australian
innings, for a total of 24 wickets, the mastermind behind India’s closest
attempt yet at winning a series in Australia. His 8-141 in Sydney is one of my
favorites, and is unfortunately hard to come by.
It was easy for me to relate to him. Like him, I started
playing cricket attempting to be a fast bowler (I never got past slow-medium
full-tosses), before becoming a legspinner. And like him, I was a colossal
nerd. And I don’t mean he looked like a nerd just because he once wore glasses
like Daniel Vettori – he was the real deal, as you can see in this picture
below.
Practically twins, him and I. Who’s that kid on the right? And who’s that future commentator on the left? |
His relatable geekiness is the result of being a keen
student – he succeeded in becoming a mechanical engineer before he played Test
cricket. As he isn’t someone who turns the ball a great deal, he presumably puts
his finely-tuned mind to the task - seeing every batsman as a Physics quiz,
asking question after question until he finds the answer. He finds the smallest
chink in the batsman’s technique and works on it until he gets the wicket. Aiding
him is his arsenal of deliveries – the stock legspin, the wrong ‘un and
probably several different kinds of flippers.
His strongest attribute, though, is considered to be his
never-say-die attitude towards bowling – this has helped him and his team when
they have most needed it. If the first half of his career ended perfectly when
he took that classic 10-74
against Pakistan in 1999, the second half began with injury and the rise of
another spinner, Harbhajan Singh. With his position under threat for the first
time in his career, Kumble bowled despite the pain of a broken jaw in the West
Indies in 2002, and then developed his bowling to much greater effectiveness – the
noughties yielded 355 Test wickets, a vast improvement on the 264 wickets in
the previous nine years.
The numerous prolific years since 2002 led to him
eventually leading India in 2007, two months after his entertaining maiden
century against England. This was a short transitive phase, with the captaincy
expected to pass to MS Dhoni at the end. Nevertheless, Kumble led well, as
India won a home series against Pakistan for the first time in 27 years, and
his diplomacy was vital during the controversy-filled tour to Australia.
Age and injuries set in again in 2008, unfortunately, and
by then he was well past his best (though he would come back strongly in the
IPL). He retired mid-series in the home Tests against Australia (who I notice
have been mentioned quite a few times in this piece). I knew the retirement was
coming, had even secretly hoped for it when he was going wicketless because I
couldn’t bear to see this shadow of a great bowler. When it came, I wept
anyway. Not openly, of course, I wept with the minds’ eyes of my mind’s eyes.
He ended his career at the right time, when the Indian
candle was burning bright, when they were on the road to #1, when the young
players should have been given their trials for the future. With Anil Kumble
gone, India cannot be sure of winning even on a turning track, because they
have no one as good to exploit it. It’s clear that he wants to be a part of the
behind-the-scene improvement in Indian cricket, but if the board cannot do
whatever it needs to to retain his services, they do not deserve success.
I leave you with one of the best things I’ve ever
watched, a profile
of him from 1995, when he was with Northamptonshire.
Exit
stategy (I intended to spell it that way): He bowled approximately 55,000 deliveries in
international cricket, around 6000 more than Sachin has faced.