|
|
|
|
|
|
Playing against Superman Wisden CricInfo staff - April 25, 2002
Sanjay Manjrekar was one of the few Indian players to come out of the 1988-89 tour to the West Indies with his reputation enhanced. He shares his memories with Wisden.com. The West Indies tour of 1988-89 was my first overseas series. I had played just one Test prior to that – against West Indies in Delhi in 1987-88, when Winston Benjamin had forced me to retire hurt in the second innings for 10. A string of good scores in the domestic season had brought me in contention for a berth for the tour. I remember Dilip Vengsarkar coming out of the selection meeting looking completely drained. Later, I learnt that much of the debate had centred on the 17th member of the squad; after much deliberation, I was in. To begin with, the tour schedule itself was unusual. We played a four-day game, then three one-dayers, then a three-day match followed by two more one-day internationals, and then immediately went into the first Test. The Indian board had a very weak voice then, and I don't think they even made an effort to get the itinerary altered. We were walloped 5-0 in the one-dayers, and I don't think that was unexpected. West Indies had an awesome line-up. They were by far the best team in the world, and even Australia, the second-best team then, were overawed by the Caribbean brilliance. For Indians especially, looking at a West Indian cricketer was like looking at superman. Seeing players like Malcolm Marshall, Viv Richards, Curtly Ambrose, Gordon Greenidge and Courtney Walsh walk out on the field was the most intimidating sight in the game. On the other hand, India were one of the weaker teams in international cricket. Sunil Gavaskar had just retired, Mohinder Amarnathwasn't in the team, and our bowling attack, barring Kapil Dev, was quite ordinary. Though we had some good batsmen –Vengsarkar, Ravi Shastri, Navjot Sidhu and Mohammad Azharuddin were all accomplished players – we lacked the self-belief to compete. For me, succeeding against West Indies was the ultimate goal. I probably had the right technique to get runs against quick bowling. Many players had to make huge technical adjustments after playing mostly against spinners on Indian tracks, but my style of batting was built around tackling fast bowling. My backfoot play was solid, and I decided that I would go there and grind it out. No flashy counter-attacks, no aggression – I realized that I didn't have too many attacking shots against bowling of that quality – but I backed my defensive ability. The tour started off well for me. I got runs in both the warm-up games, and more importantly, felt comfortable facing the fast bowlers. Those knocks gave me plenty of confidence which I carried into the second Test at Bridgetown, Barbados (The first Test at Georgetown, Guyana was washed out). Occupying the crease wasn't a problem; the only question was converting time at the crease into runs. I didn't get too many against my name in the first hour, but as I settled in, my confidence grew, and slowly, the shots started coming too. Every stroke came from the middle of the bat – I don't recall offering a single chance, or even edging a ball. I remember Richards had come on to bowl in the last half hour of play that day. I was in the nineties, and it was an ideal opportunity to race along to my hundred. But being a pure, uncorrupted batsman then, I played by the book, took no chances and returned to the pavilion unbeaten on 93. I hardly slept that night. I remember getting a call from a well-wisher in India at 4am (I wonder how the operator allowed the call to come through), and the next morning, Ambrose took the new ball and bowled one of the best spells I have ever faced. I wondered if allowing Richards to get away with so many dot balls the previous evening had been a wise decision. But I hung on, and reached my hundred with an on-drive from Walsh. It was a tremendous feeling. One of the greatest memories of my career was Richards waiting for me after the Test match to offer his congratulations. He was there outside our team bus to shake my hand and say "well done". It meant a lot to me. I had a poor third Test –Marshall trapped me in front in both innings for single-digit scores. After the Test, I went back to the nets and devised a way to tackle that delivery from Marshall. In the fourth Test, Marshall tried the same trick, and when I countered it with a straight bat, he smiled cheekily, almost pleased by the fact that I had found a way to deal with that delivery. That was the greatness of most West Indian players – they enjoyed a good performance by the opponents. In fact, Marshall sought me out after the series and discussed the strengths and weaknesses in my batting. Some of his tips, especially regarding how I could tackle the seaming conditions in England, were very helpful. Desmond Haynes was another senior West Indian cricketer who went out of his way to make me comfortable. Before each game (except perhaps the first one-dayer), he would ask me if I was playing. I'd say no, and he would shrug his shoulders as if to suggest that I should have been in the eleven. On the morning of the first Test, when both squads were warming up, Haynes did a thumbs-up to me, indicating that I had been selected for the Test. It was incredible, for I myself didn't know if I was playing. Not surprisingly, he was the first player to come up to me and shake my hand when I reached my century at Barbados. I found it quite unbelievable that someone like Haynes, who had been around for more than 10 years, would be bothered about a newcomer like me. These little incidents meant a lot to me. Even though we lost the series 3-0, I gained tremendously in self-belief and confidence. I had successfully cleared the ultimate test in international cricket. When I met Gavaskar at Trinidad, he congratulated me and said, "Now you've become a man." Sanjay Manjrekar was talking to S Rajesh.
© Wisden CricInfo Ltd |
|
|
| |||
| |||
|