Rahul Dravid - A fan's tribute

It has been just over a week since Rahul Dravid announced his retirement from all cricket. And inevitably there is no dearth of tributes, all thoroughly well-deserved and which paint the picture of a great batsman, a good friend, and of a man who played such a pivotal role in Indian cricket’s emergence as a major cricketing force.

However, while a lot of what is written – particularly pieces by Ed Smith and Sambit Bal – provides a glimpse into Dravid from close quarters, the closest that fans get to players in cricket-mad India is on TV, the occasional tweet and when one reads notes like the ones above.

We cannot claim any such proximity with Rahul Dravid – except if “reports” about a little kid in the family, now a teenager, then still a chubby one-year old (circa 1997), being photographed with Rahul Dravid who happened to be in the neighourhood to greet a contest winner, count as genuine proof of proximity.

So, a fan’s view of Rahul Dravid, as with most other cricketers, is limited to the occasional piece – like Dravid’s tribute on Laxman’s 100^th Test appearance, or his Bradman oration – which provides but a fleeting glimpse into the person behind the sportsman, to borrow an overused cliché. But where one does not get to meet these cricketers in person, a lot can still be observed about sportsmen by looking at how they conduct themselves on the field.

So what did Rahul Dravid come across to the average TV watching cricket fan as when he played? Selfless team player? Uncompromising competitor? Very fit sportsman? A player who treasured the India cap? An ambassador for cricket, who genuinely respected the spirit of cricket? And off it – an almost scholarly man, whose Bradman Oration was one for the ages? Yes, to all of those.

And in the recent England series where India crashed to the first of their two successive 0-4 defeats overseas, Dravid showed each of these qualities in abundance. In agreeing to open the batting when India were missing the services of their regular openers through injury he was selfless. In waging singlehanded battle with England quicks and placing great value on his wicket he was being the fierce competitor Indian cricket has to come to expect of him. And in talking to MS Dhoni over the Ian Bell run out – valid under the laws of cricket, but arguably skirting the edge of the spirit of cricket, Dravid displayed each of these qualities in ample measure. In a sense, England was his real final series – the series where Dravid led the way for not just Indian cricket but also for Test cricket in general as he displayed cricketing skill and behavior which is so rapidly dissipating in an increasingly boorish sport.

But the real impact of Rahul Dravid remained that as a #3 – and with his retirement a score-line of 10/1 for India in an away Test match will have a much different feel to it from now on – we will miss that old familiar feeling of looking at the scoreboard and realizing that all was well since Dravid was still one of the two batsmen doing battle for India. The next #3 will step into a very large pair of boots, though the person who steps into the slot Sachin Tendulkar will probably have it much harder, if only for the weight of expectations.

Dravid’s batting was not merely about a fighting cricketer – it was also about his monumental concentration. The ability to cocoon himself and play his own game while a whole lot would be happening around – either a flurry of boundaries or the fall of quick wickets. Every sportsperson has to enter that zone where the crowd, the match situation and the opponent do not matter and where the class of the competition demands that batting, bowling, fielding or whatever else the sportsperson does is instinctive. Dravid typified that approach, with his ability to modify his batting approach to suit the challenges of Test cricket – where bowlers have time to work on a batsman one ball at a time, and where wearing down the opposition remains such a valuable skill. At the same time Dravid has shown himself able, and willing, to try a different set of shot choices in one-day internationals, and as he has demonstrated at the IPL, at T20 as well. That he has played the game for so long and finished with such staggering figures tells the story of how he used concentration as his weapon to bat his team into a position strength and the opposition into being worn out. And yet it appeared that if Dravid did not play the more extravagant scoop shots or reverse sweeps, it was not because he did not know how to play them.

Nothing symbolises Dravid’s ability to bring his best out when India were with their backs to wall than the Ahmedabad Test against Sri Lanka in 2009. On a slightly nippy morning the Sri Lankan quicks reduced India to 32 for 4 and it required Dravid to bail India out. The match was a typical draw but a 2-0 series win gave India the World No.1 ranking in tests. That one innings of defiance from Dravid went a long way in giving India the top sport for the next eighteen months. And it is this toughness we have gotten used to over the last 16 years.

“Finally I would like to thank the Indian cricket fan, both here and across the world. The game is lucky to have you and I have been lucky to play before you. To represent India, and thus to represent you, has been a privilege and one which I have always taken seriously.” – these were Dravid’s parting words in his retirement press conference. So what does Rahul Dravid finally mean to the Indian cricket fan – the faceless #3 who came out to bat before the exciting stroke-players or the gritty determined batsman who buckled down when the going got tough and dug India out of a hole time and time again? One fervently hopes the Indian fan is discerning enough to realise it is the latter but if his true worth is to be known only in his retirement then so be it. Dravid’s contributions to Indian cricket will never diminish.

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