Rahul has been one of the two reasons why I have followed cricket. The other, of course, is Sachin Tendulkar. While Sachin has been there since I started watching cricket, Rahul arrived on the scene when I began appreciating the finer nuances of the game. Over the years, I probably have said more prayers for Rahul than for Sachin. I do not know the reason because I never sat down and decided ‘I like Rahul more’ but when I think of my favourite sportspersons, I see a clear trend to it. I have liked Boris Becker over Stefen Edberg, Agassi over Sampras, Steffi Graf over Monica Seles, Chelsea over Manchester united. The admiration for Federer began when he started to hold his own against the might of Pete Sampras.
I have vague memories of Rahul in his first match, an ODI, which I otherwise remember quite vividly. India won a low scoring affair by 12 runs, Sachin had scored the first 28 of 33 runs, Siddhu was bowled by Vaas in his nineties, Srinath spewed venom in his first spell and even Venkatesh Prasad had hit a six. The debutante went unnoticed, as would be the hallmark of his upcoming long career. Then of course Lords happened. India got busy celebrating the arrival of the ‘Maharaj’, but my heart went out to the one who stopped just short of the magical three-figure, not once but twice. Since then, while Sachin continued to conquer the world and Ganguly became the new ODI superstar, Dravid kept producing gems without being noticed by most.
He liked ‘slipping under the radar’, to use his own words, but I made sure I did my bit to publicise, even exaggerate, every little thing he did. Everyone around lauded his masterful first test century, 148 against South Africa, but I ensured they did not miss out the six he hit off Donald in the ODI series. My uncles discussed over tea, Saeed Anwar’s record breaking 194; I ensured the discussion did not end without applauding his dogged 107 in the losing cause. As it happens in all relationships, I have had to face brickbats and heartburns over the last 16 years. I became the butt of jokes when he scored 1 off 21 balls against a lowly Bangladesh. But I gave it back when he scored the 50 off 22 balls.
I have, at times, been disappointed by his performances but mostly was troubled by the fact that he received a lot less credit than he deserved. There are a score of things I can list down. But then I realised it does not befit a Rahul Dravid fan. He never seemed to hold any grudge against anyone, never cared to talk back even to those who hurled abuses. Dignified was his response at all times, and that is something to emulate. Dignified and respectful, yet displaying an unmatched steely resolve, not giving an inch. I also disliked his nickname, ‘The Wall’ and I suspect so did he because he possessed some of the most watchable strokes and not just a tight defence.
Most of us follow sports only for entertainment and forget the sportsperson once he is out of action. Rahul is one sportsman I have really wanted to know as a person. His penchant for reading, thoughtful observations (glimpses of which we saw in his Bradman oration), love for musicals, the perfectionist in him (some of which was described in the Cricinfo column by his wife) and even his classy sense of humour (he recently said, ‘I used to joke that these guys are setting me up because after I failed it's easy to say 'another brick in the wall falls down', or 'the foundations are weak'’ on being asked about the nickname The Wall) make him quite an intriguing personality to me. His good bye has left an emptiness in heart which will be hard to fill. Not only will I miss the player in him but also the fact that we might get to read very little of him in future. Players have to go, and it is commendable in itself that he played for so long but I wish he is around as a columnist and a commentator. I have not yet had enough of Rahul Dravid!
