Cricket Odyssey: A fascinating journey... with 75 legends of all time

By Rajgopal Nidamboor

Cricket Odyssey is a skilfully executed, lovingly constructed, book: a literary celebration of over a century-and-a-half of cricket. It has narrative and character study blended in a dexterously refined, yet readable form. It not only manages to pervade the essential of the essentials of some of cricket’s greatest players — from Dr W G Grace to Steve Waugh; from Sir Don Bradman, Sachin Tendulkar to Rahul Dravid; from Sir Learie Constantine and Sir Gary Sobers to Jacques Kallis; from Ray Lindwall to Wasim Akram; and, from Clarrie Grimmett to Anil Kumble and Muttiah Muralitharan — but, it also brings to life a classy and effulgent cricketing collage. More than a lively, encapsulated grandeur of individual brilliance, or cricketing chemistry, of each player epitomised in its canvas, Cricket Odyssey explores not only the many-resplendent delights of cricket, but it also delineates a deftly woven work of art — of the game’s scientific foundation, art and grammar, and its players’ phenomenal exploits, acts of courage, grandeur, and ‘shortfall.’ A journey through nostalgia, and a living monument to a living philosophy, it is, in sum, a ‘must-read’ and ‘must-keep’ book for all avid cricket fans across the globe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Jan 11, 2018

Book preview

CRICKET ODYSSEY

A FASCINATING JOURNEY...

WITH 75 LEGENDS OF ALL TIME

Dr W G Grace, Sir Don Bradman,

Sir Frank Worrell to Sachin Tendulkar

Walter Hammond, Denis Compton,

Viv Richards to Rahul Dravid

Sir Learie Constantine, Sir Gary Sobers, Imran Khan,

Sir Richard Hadlee to Jacques Kallis

Graeme Pollock, Barry Richards, Brian Lara to Mark Waugh

Clarrie Grimmett, Ray Lindwall, Malcolm Marshall, Anil Kumble to Muttiah

Muralitharan... and, more...

RAJGOPAL NIDAMBOOR

Foreword

SIMON HUGHES

Special Message

RAHUL DRAVID

Afterword

LALCHAND RAJPUT

FIRST INTERNATIONAL [E-BOOK] EDITION 2018

Cricket Odyssey

© Rajgopal Nidamboor

Book Design and Layouts

www.jscommunications.in

Cover Photograph

Rahul Dravid: WENN Ltd/Alamy

Author’s photograph by

Yashwant Rao

Available worldwide, wherever you are

First published [as Cricket Boulevard], in coffee table format, by Murray Books [Australia], 2004.

Rahul Dravid's original [post-publication] handwritten message, is incorporated, in its 'print' avatar, in this new, fully revised, updated edition — with grateful thanks to the legend.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in a retrieval system, or transmitted, by any means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author/copyright holder.

While every effort has been made to ensure that the information in this book is accurate and correct at the time of going to press, the author and printer take no responsibility for any inadvertent, or unintentional, error/s or omission/s.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rajgopal Nidamboor, PhD, is a wellness physician-writer-editor, independent researcher, columnist, author and publisher. His published work includes hundreds of newspaper, magazine, and Web articles, essays, meditations, columns, and critiques on a variety of subjects, including cricket, eight books on natural health, two coffee table tomes and an encyclopaedic treatise on Indian philosophy. He calls himself an irrepressible idealist. What he likes best is spending quality time with his family, close friends, and reading, writing, listening to music, watching cricket and old movies and practising mindful meditation. He lives in Navi Mumbai, India. Website: www.rajnidamboor.com

DEDICATION

To my parents, and grandparents; Saroja and BVK; for their eternal love and blessings.

To my uncle, NSR, for his affection, and blessings. I remember a special moment — as a school kid — when he took me along... to watch my first-ever first-class cricket match.

To Shobha, my wife, the ever-doting, firm optimist, and our charming sons, Jawahar and Sanjiv, for their unconditional love and making the world a beautiful place to live in.

To Rahul Dravid, my ‘idol’ — a legend in his own right... for his sublime cricketing skills, intellect, discipline, vision, values, and courage.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The basic tapestry, or ‘hand-hold’ material, that I’ve used — now in its fully fresh, and thoroughly updated, redacted form — in Cricket Odyssey has been culled from my articles, essays, meditations, and critiques, originally published in Indian newspapers and magazines, and the Web — The Times of India Group, The Hindu, The Observer Group, The Mid-Day Group, Indian Express, The Independent/The Metropolis, FPJ, Cricket Today, Financial Chronicle, On Line Opinion, The Roar, and HoldingWilley, among others.

I am grateful to my editors — Ayaz Memon, S K Sham, Ivan Crasto, Stanislaus D’Souza, Sandeep Bamzai, Kuldip Lal, Shubhrangshu Roy et al — who seldom ‘touched’ a word, comma, or semi-colon — for their affability.

I am grateful too to the various authors and writers, whose practical work has enthused me in my cricket studies, and also writing: Sir Neville Cardus; A A Thomson; Jack Fingleton; C L R James; John Arlott, whose timeless, golden voice reverberates in my ear; Bill O’Reilly; E W Swanton; Patrick Murphy; Robin Marlar; David Frith; Raju Bharatan; Mike Coward; Scyld Berry; R Mohan; Harsha Bhogle; Mario Rodrigues; Ramachandra Guha et al.

To my cousin, K S Rao, for his most thoughtful and priceless gift: my first-ever portable typewriter.

To Peter Murray, my friend and brother, who published my first coffee-table book.

To M V Kamath, the doyen of Indian journalism, my ‘guru.’

To Dr Mukesh Batra, exemplar.

I am especially grateful to my dear friend, former India Test opener and now coach-manager-administrator, Lalchand Rajput, for his constant encouragement, and for urging me to bringing out this edition — ‘a fascinating journey, lovingly told.’

And, last, but not the least, my especial thanks to all my kith and kin, my wonderful friends, teachers, and colleagues — for their love, and for being there... always...

— RN

SPECIAL MESSAGE

It’s an honour to have a nice book like this dedicated to me. It

came as a surprise. Well done on all your efforts and best wishes in

the future.

RAHUL DRAVID

DRAVID'S

HANDWRITTEN MESSAGE

FOREWORD

SIMON HUGHES

It is extremely flattering to be invited to write the foreword to what is a veritable encyclopaedia of cricket and cricketers. No one before has assembled such a fabulous cast of legendary names and gone into such depth to portray and personalise them and evaluate their contribution. Rajgopal Nidamboor [Raj, to friends] calls this book, Cricket Odyssey . That is almost an understatement. It is an epic, one-of-its-kind voyage through the game and its great players.

Cricket reveals character more than any other sport. There is so much time to watch players between deliveries and assess their emotions as they handle the game’s unique reality — that ecstasy and agony can be just one ball apart. With his decades of cricket-watching experience, Raj has been able to linger over those moments, monitoring, synthesising and characterising them — this has enabled him to produce crisp, evocative, sharply observed essays on cricket’s heroes.

He describes the remarkable Sir Don Bradman as a ‘nuclear taskforce,’ Barry Richards as ‘a cricketing cutlass’ and M S Dhoni as ‘the Vitruvian man.’ No one has attempted to label and badge the greats of the game like this before. My own boyhood hero, Colin Cowdrey, born, of course, in Bangalore [now Bengaluru], is characterised as having ‘great elegance and aplomb,’ an observation with which I wholeheartedly concur. He had remarkable longevity, being summoned to Australia at the eleventh hour to face the fearsome might of Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson, at the age of 41. I loved reading about his administering a ‘surgically orchestrated thrashing’ of the Aussies, when they returned to England two years later.

Much of cricket’s heavyweight literature chronicles the exploits of great batsmen. But Raj dwells on many of the great bowlers too, highlighting particularly the fearsome pace duos that wreaked havoc wherever they went, and the leg-spinning ‘wicket-thieves’ Clarrie Grimmett, Bill O’Reilly, Shane Warne and Anil Kumble. And although he is clear that Sir Garfield Sobers is indisputably the greatest all-round cricketer who ever lived, his book does not overlook the oft-neglected Jacques Kallis, who, I calculate, has been the most effective batsman of the modern era [averaging just under and over 50 in all three international formats], aside from an incredible tally of 292 Test wickets.

Cricket Odyssey is seventy-five works of art, individually capturing the legends who have bestrode our noble game with each of their essential characteristics painted through beautifully chosen words. It is a spectacular gallery of fine art — of cricket and cricketers.

Simon Hughes is known throughout the cricket world as ‘The Analyst’ for his unique work on TV, radio and in newspapers. He earned the sobriquet during Channel Four’s groundbreaking coverage of cricket [1999-2005]. He is currently heard on Channel 5’s Highlights and BBC Test Match Special as also on The Times’ digital output. His columns can be read in The Times and The Cricketer Magazine. Hughes was a cricketer in his own right too, taking over 750 wickets for Middlesex in all competitions — and, winning four county championship titles and five one-day trophies with the county before playing in Durham’s first two seasons as a first-class county. Besides his broadcast and newspaper work, Hughes has written nine books on cricket, including the award-winning A Lot of Hard Yakka. His latest is Who Wants to be a Batsman? A classy speaker who can host events and address club and corporate audiences with aplomb, Hughes also contributes regular travel articles for several publications.

CONTENTS

PART I: SPECIAL PORTRAIT

Cricket’s First Grace

PART II: WILLOW MAGIC

1   Hobbs: The Perfectionist

2   Sutcliffe: He Lapped Up the Whole Idea of Cricket

3   Bradman: The One-Man Nuclear Taskforce

4   Hammond: Genius is What Genius Does

5   Hutton: The Eternal Stylist

6   Compton: An Entertainer beyond Compare

7   Hazare: A Knight in White Flannels

8   Mankad: The Bejewelled Oracle

9   Worrell: Cricket’s First Apostle

10   Weekes: His ‘Tons’ are Forever

11   May: A Cricketer in Shining Armour

12   Cowdrey: Of Delightful Elegance & Aplomb

13   Graeme Pollock: The Frank Woolley of his Age

14   Barry Richards: The Cricketing Cutlass

15   Viswanath: Virtuosity & Vitality

16   Gavaskar: A Hero in his Own Right

17   Vivian Richards: Cricket’s ‘King’ Alexander

18   Martin: Much to ‘Crowe’ About

19   Wessels: Of Kepler & His Sound Voice

20   Lara: Elfin Genius with the Merlin Wrists

21   Ranatunga: Napoleon of Cricket

22   Aravinda: The Silva Lining

23   Kris Srikkanth: A Joy to Watch when he Cut Loose

24   Steve Waugh: The Cricketing Thoroughbred

25   Tendulkar: The Don of our Age

26   Mark Waugh: He Waved a Magic Willow

27   Ponting: His Willow’s Voice

28   D[r]avid: The Goliath

29   Graeme: Cricket’s Goldsmith

30   Dhoni: The Vitruvian Man

PART III: ROUND & ABOUT

31   Constantine: Cricket’s First Great All-Rounder

32   Miller: Thunder from Down Under

33   Sobers: Nothing to Declare except his Genius

34   Procter: The Demolition Man

35   Imran Khan: The Sultan of Swing

36   Hadlee: Cricket’s ‘King’ Richard I

37   Botham: Both Good & Bad

38   Kapil Dev: He Epitomised the Game’s Conscious Evolution

PART IV: THE PACE CIRCLE

39   Trueman & Tyson: Tempest to a Typhoon

40   Hall & Griffith: Origin of the Pace Brigade

41   Lillee & Thomson: Not Just Pace, but Gunfire

42   Roberts & Holding: Of Lace & Grace

PART V: ESSAYS

43   The Perfect Cricketer

44   Slogasm!

45   In The Cerebral Line of Fire

46   They Have a Different Charm

PART VI: NOT QUITE SPORT

47   The Murky Side of Cricket

PART VII: DIFFERENT ‘STROKES’

48   Grimmett: Newton of Cricket

49   O’Reilly: ‘Tiger! Tiger!’

50   Marshall: His own ‘Martial’ Law

51   Donald: Greased Lightning

52   Akram: Lord of the Ring

53   Kumble: The Importance of Being Earnest

PART VIII: 54. SIGNPOST

i.   Colonel C K Nayudu: Indian Cricket’s King Arthur

ii.   Les Ames: ‘Mr Twinkletoes’

iii.   Stan: The Stamp of McCabe

iv.   Borde: Courage & Grace

v.   Pataudi: When ‘Tiger’ blazed Bright

vi.   Curtly: Ambrosia!

vii.   Walsh: A Gentle Giant

viii.   Healy: ’Keeper Extraordinaire

ix.   Warne: A Flawed Genius, or Genius Flawed?

x.   Cronje: The Primaeval Horseman who Debased his own Self

xi.   Ganguly: Prince of Kolkata

xii.   Muralitharan: Magician from the Emerald Isle

PART IX: TALE SPIN

55   The Mystical Quartet

PART X: CAPTAINCY

56   A Question of Leadership

PART XI: CRITIQUE

57. The Bodyline Dishonour

PART XII: OF MATTER & MIND

58   Cricket at the Speed of Thought

PART XIII: BY INVITATION: GUEST COLUMNS

59   Amarnath: He Defied Selectors & Destroyed Fast Bowlers. By Haresh Pandya

60   Kallis: The Irreplaceable Colossus. By G Venkatesh

APPENDIX I

1   Ode to Cricket

2   Of Laxman, Sehwag, Mahela & Sangakkara

3   AB: The Gladiator

APPENDIX II: CRICKET IN THE US

When Cricket Stoked the American Dream

POSTSCRIPT

The Intensity of Being Dravid

ON THE MARQUEE

The Quintessence of Being Virat Kohli

AFTERWORD

By Lalchand Rajput

Part 1

SPECIAL PORTRAIT

CRICKET’S FIRST GRACE

Cricketing contexts are boundless means — not arbitrary constructions. They are, in more ways than one, nestled truths anchored in wide and deep realities, where each of such truths is a part of other wholes. In other words — a myriad artwork that more than highlights, or celebrates, a particular context.

This also means that the interpretation of a cricketing artwork is not only evocation, but also the illumination of a certain accentuated, necessary link and a sublime, subconscious interpretation — one that involves a careful look at the total web of evidence.

The understanding of a cricketing artwork, therefore, would intrinsically, or compositely, mean to enter, as far as possible, the contents determining the art. In simple terms, it is the fusion of the horizons — the emergence of cricket as one whole — in which the understanding of every work of art, of every great player, is a process of self-understanding and expansively invigorating in its final effect.

Not so simple, though. Because, to understand such a temple of art and science, one must, to a certain degree, enter its inner precincts, stretch its boundaries and, thus, grow in the process. Reason: the fusion of such horizons is the broadening, or expansion, of the self itself.

The orientation is obvious. When one connects with a legend called Dr W G Grace [born, July 18, 1848], one is consciously reminded of what superior art has in common — the capacity to, quite simply, take your breath away. It is something that makes you inwardly gasp, for a few seconds, when the ‘art’ first hits you, or enters your being. More so, because Grace lived in a different time capsule — one that did not belong to TV glitz. Result: you are lured, and yet flummoxed, to connecting picture frames of the old with the modern. Yet, what is remarkable is — you are now open to perceptions that you had not seen before.

This was Grace’s magic — his cricket seeps into your pores gently. Also, slowly. Maybe, just a little; maybe, a great deal. But, the effect is hypnotic. You are changed, thanks to the game’s own breadth of awareness — call it a wholeheartedly accepted existence of not just figures in terms of runs scored, but also its soul and spirit.

Grace was the creator of modern batting. A revolutionary, Grace held conventional wisdom by the beard. His own. He turned batting into an art — an accomplishment into a science. He developed the all-important criterion of style. In so doing, he also founded the refined theory of forward- and back-play, where both were equally important. Yet, he placed dependence on neither. He was, at his peak, the finest player born, or unborn. As the immortal K S Ranjitsinhji, the prince of batting, put it, He [Grace] turned the old one-string instrument into a many-chorded lyre.

For more than 40 years, Grace was the greatest player. He was also the most dominant force in 30 of them. He still is — thanks to the extent of his long career, and strong pre-eminence in his time, and beyond — as Grace, the physician, who used the willow with as much skill as the stethoscope. While it’s true that several batsmen have surpassed his total of 126 first-class centuries, none of them has been so revered from his playing days till today — the age of instant cricket and technological nirvana.

When Grace entered first-class cricket, in 1865, the game was a ‘vague’ pursuit for the ‘best’ players, who had enough ‘brand equity,’ for getting as much money as possible from and out of it. What’s more, cricket was just a provincial game — not a prospect with international reach. However, by the time Grace hung up his boots, in 1908, the year the one and the only Sir Don Bradman was born, it was a national sport in the UK — a sport that also brought people together.

Grace scored runs on every imaginable type of wicket, including a host of varying surfaces. Well, the wickets, in Grace’s early days, were dangerous. Not for Grace, who faced the roughest of pace bowlers, and the highly skilled of spin bowlers, with nonchalant élan and efficiency. As he moved up his own ladder of cricketing success, Grace amassed seasonal figures of rare consistency — with as much ease as a virtuoso violinist.

In the decade between 1871 and 1880, for instance, Grace averaged 49. That his nearest ‘rival’ averaged just 26 wasn’t passé; it was a powerful statement on Grace’s consummate finesse and run-making ability. Not only that. Grace also scalped 1,174 wickets. What’s most amazing, the bearded giant topped the batting averages — for 11 out of the 14 seasons betwixt 1866 and 1879. In 1871, Grace compiled 2,739 runs, at a remarkable average of 78.25; his runner-up totalled 1,068 at a measly 25.

What made Grace a distinguished batsman was his mighty faith in the basics of the game. The virtue of a straight bat, for him, was akin to the purity of every musical note to Mozart, or the precise, correct word to Shakespeare. He played the right stroke to the right ball — in a manner born.

Grace’s stance was upright. His back-lift was high, and he brought into every stroke an astonishingly quick response. The quicker the bowler, the more delighted he was. Grace loved to smash the ball to pulp through the covers, or straight drive it past the hapless bowler. No shot is as disheartening for a bowler as the drive — and, Grace cultivated the stroke to perfection.

Grace often said that games weren’t won by leaving the ball alone. He hated defensive strokes, because he thought you can only get three off ’em. So he hit the ball as powerfully as he possibly could, with stunning effect. His mercurial stroke-play was also an extension of his personality — full of zest and qualified self-assurance. When he advanced in age, Grace developed a thickening waistline, all right. But, when it came to sheer footwork he was nimble and all-powerful. His placement was sound — like a snooker player. He found gaps easily in the field — with a good deal of clinical skill.

As his days in the sun progressed, Grace was but a far cry from the young stripling — a colt with electrical enthusiasm for the game. So, the image that is commonplace of Grace today is his massive, bearded face — a grizzly bear, or a remotely comical figure, for a generation long used to lithe, athletic sport heroes. Yes, the bat, in Grace’s hands, looks like a child’s first-ever willow, not to speak of his enormous feet so transfixed at the crease. They are images that do not seem like taking the attack to the bowler. But, Grace was Grace. Once the bowler had let go the ball from his hands, the physician-cricketer would be a transformed man. Result: voila! Add to this Grace’s amazing stamina, and massive strength, and you have one great epic — Grace’s own — ever written, or put into composition in the game’s wondrous script.

Grace’s value was just not confined to the sports field. It extended beyond — not merely in terms of waves of hysteria of people who wanted to watch him play, but also financial productivity. Grace knew his price. He was also aware of how hard a bargain he could drive. In today’s world, Grace would have made a great copy for cricket writers, thanks to his idiosyncrasies and sense of mirth. More so, because opinion is divided on Grace’s gentlemanly qualities — whether he cheated and bent the rules to suit himself. To cull an example: Grace, who did not like fast bowling, in his later years, once nicked a ‘quickish’ delivery from a young paceman, Neville Knox. As the fielding side was cock-a-hoop with his dismissal, Grace stood his ground. He rubbed his arm, and said, I didn’t come here for nothing; nor did all these spectators. Play on!

The sheer multiplicity of Grace’s anecdotes lends credence to Grace’s larger-than- life image. He was a great character, doubtless. Maybe, he lacked that pedantic element of air. But, what was most extraordinary was his sense of dedication to cricket and his patients alike — two vastly divergent fields with nothing in common, so to speak. Well, the point is Grace was a rigid professional, a hard man to barter with. Yet, you wouldn’t believe it. He often provided his services free to poor patients — without holding anything back.

Grace was an instinctive player. He was forgetful too. More than anything else, he was a winsome soul — a man who loved practical jokes. What he hated most was reading books. It did not affect him at all — the accumulation of knowledge, or erudition. He also hated war. The First World War troubled him greatly. He was shattered to think how his fellow English cricketers were being butchered in France. Yet, he wrote a famous letter to The Sportsman magazine urging fellow cricketers to join the armed forces, ASAP. It showed his patriotic fervour — his affection for the country of his birth.

Grace’s keen eyesight was special — it was his keynote to success. He played the pull shot, for one, like no other player of his time. Grace was a great innovator and a great all-rounder too — all rolled into one. His Test record may not do him justice, all right, nor does his first-class percentage of 32.29 and 40.68, respectively. But, they confirm his standing: Grace, as Grace can be, the stamp of a champion. Here’s Grace’s fact-file: Tests — 22; innings 36; runs 1,098; highest 170; 100s 2; 50s 5. First-class cricket — matches 872; innings 1,483; runs 54,518; highest 344; 100s 126. You don’t judge a player merely in terms of statistical excellence — there’s something else called originality that’s imperative. Right? Grace had that glowing element — all his own.

This was his greatness — a vibrant expansion of his self, belief, method, and conviction of thought, and emotion in motion. Of the bat meeting the ball on its own terms — simply, and also sensibly. Of blending the serious with the pleasing — one that had every resource to please everyone. A force that carried the seed of cricket as all-encompassing — the most learned of all sport. Of poetry that emerged not from technique alone, but from a kind of Platonian ‘divine frenzy.’ The rest, as the cliché goes, is history — a part of cricketing folklore and enterprise.

It also sums up Grace, the fountain-head of cricket resurgence. A player, like no other — who carried nothing else, but his originality to a world beyond space and time.

Part 2

WILLOW MAGIC

1.   THE PERFECTIONIST

HOBBS

Sir Jack Hobbs was a purists’ purist. He brought to batting a new dimension, a rare canvas of perfection: something that is as yet unmatched. Hobbs’ art was full of profound expression, a fount of wisdom. Of subtle refinement and classical definition — a celebration of both cricket syntax and grammar.

Hobbs, one of English cricket’s finest jewels, with all his sublime modesty, amassed 61,167 runs in first-class cricket: a whopping achievement, replete with 197 hundreds. It’s a world record of unparalleled excellence. His average was outstanding: 50.68. What’s amazing is the fact that Hobbs posted no less than 98 of his ‘tons’ after his 40th birthday. Life, it is said, begins at 40. Hobbs, the supreme craftsman, exemplified this timeless maxim, like no other cricketer before, or after, him.

A legendary artist, who was blessed with his own god-given easel, the cricket bat, Hobbs played the game in copy-book style without ever compromising on the refined foundations of his batting skills, or alchemy. He pursued his vocation with a sense of total commitment — and, whenever the situation required a change in game plan, Hobbs evaluated it with a feeling of sublime subjectivity, not just objectivity alone.

This was also precisely the reason why he was able to demonstrate his velvety flair by being meticulously faithful to the cricket manual. So much so, the textbook became a resplendent vade mecum in his gifted hands. As Bill Bowes, a fine cricketer himself, summed up Hobbs’ revealing mastery, When he [Hobbs] stood at the wicket before playing the shot, he looked a great player. He was all ease, grace, and confidence. The rest was — poetry.

No batsman has, so far, scored more centuries than Hobbs, yes — yet what made him extra special was his marvellous eyesight. He had the capacity to sight the red cherry earlier than any other batsman of his time. It was a big-plus — it gave him enough time-frame to executing his classy strokes with the instinctive, inborn touch of a goldsmith providing the finishing touches to a bracelet. Hobbs was a good learner too. He was also supremely adaptable.

To highlight one example: Hobbs easily got into the thick of cricket anew, after a four-year lay-off, following the Great War. Had the tragic war, like all battles, not intervened, and robbed him of some of his best years, he would have, most certainly, scored more runs, and more hundreds — as if whatever he so gloriously achieved wasn’t enough.

For a thoroughly practical batsman, Hobbs’ only weapon of non-violent ‘balance’ was his bat. He seemed to caress the ball as if it were a child. He was not just a compulsive accumulator of runs in the strictest sense; he also never really ‘hunted,’ or ‘aimed,’ for records. Rather, the records went in search of him as if he were a heaven-sent messiah of the game.

When Hobbs was at the wicket, there never was a dull moment. His technique was strongly and stylishly oriented: relaxed and perfectly balanced. He could either go back, or forward... at the proverbial drop of a ball.