All of us know that intelligence is more than a symphony of ‘know-how’ and ‘know-what’ areas in the brain. As Juan Huarte, the Spanish physician, contextualised, intelligence is the ability to learn, exercise judgment, and be imaginative — a case of neural Darwinism, lyrical and evolving. For Jean Piaget, the Swiss psychologist, intelligence is what you use when you know what to do. His perception was based on insight. Insight is, after all, intelligent behaviour. Piaget’s observation also captured the essence of what is called intelligent improvising — the coping and grouping ability that are prerequisites when there are no right answers. Picture this too: raising a coffee cup to one’s lips requires improvisation. This holds good for anything that is also enacted in cricket — on the playing field.
Sir Everton DeCourcy Weekes [born, February 26, 1925], who passed away into the sunset, at age 95 [July 1, 2020], exemplified such an outlook. He was a total phenomenon in his own, eclectic way — and, no amount of critical evaluation can detract from the merits of his amazing contribution to the game and its many-splendoured ability in throwing up heroes with every new generation. Put simply, Weekes’ sublime brilliance was analogous to the amazing genius of football’s one and only ‘King’ Pele.
Short, stocky and strong-framed, Weekes was every inch a princely batsman. He was to cricket what calypso and Paul McCartney’s melodies are to music. To quote The Guardian, “He cut, hooked and drove powerfully off either foot the fastest bowlers of his time. His rare defensive stroke was invariably played late, as though he mentally ran through every possible aggressive shot, looking until the last moment for a way of attacking the bowling before reluctantly conceding that the particular ball could only be played defensively; which defensive stroke he then employed as gracefully as he did grudgingly.”
Weekes was first ‘spotted’ by Teddy Hoad, who captained the West Indies in its first-ever Test, in the Caribbean, against England, in 1929-30. However, the fact is: Weekes, who had earlier made his debut for Barbados, when he was just 18, quickly came into prominence, yes; but, he had to actually wait for his ‘initiation’ into Test cricket for the next three seasons.
Weekes’ famous tryst with the game metamorphosed in his maiden series against England, in England, in 1947-48. It was also his most prodigious run in Test cricket. Witness, his five consecutive Test [innings] hundreds — one against England, followed by four against India. A stupendous, one-of-its-kind record which, sort of, remains venerated, in spite of the game’s inherent penchant to eclipsing such landmarks, achievements, howsoever complex, every now and then.
In his first tour of Blighty, Weekes’ cricket, which had already grown from strength to strength, was in full flow right from the word go. His bat was at its glorious best, encompassing two contexts — the sharp edge of a glittering sabre, to cutting anything loose, and the crafty dexterity of a billiards player to finding gaps in the field. During the course of that marvellous sojourn, Weekes had as many as one triple hundred and four double centuries under his belt. In the Tests too, the English bowlers, with the lone exception of Sir Alec Bedser, suffered from Weekes’ incessant onslaught, juxtaposed by Sir Frank Worrell’s classy run-making abilities, and the pulverising, destructive hitting of Clyde Walcott — cricket’s most famous Three W’s. It was cricket’s great fortune that the trio so great should have lived and played the game, at the local, national, and international level, at the same time.
For one so great, Weekes was not formally coached in any aspect, or technical frame, of the game. His batting methodologies were as natural as the lovely, golden beaches of his native island. Weekes was truly a born genius, who possessed all the outstanding qualities of a great batsman: excellent footwork, mercurial, quick reflexes, marvellous eye-mind-body co-ordination, meticulous timing, placement and, most importantly, proper balance. A player of rare distinction, Weekes, at one time in his career, had not only proved himself to be the most run-hungry batsman after Sir Don Bradman, but also the most formidable. For a ‘Willow Excalibur’ who could score a run of every ball, Weekes represented the best of ‘unmatchable’ talent in Caribbean cricket. Picture this: Weekes’ remarkable feather in his own cap. The Caribbean legend had the honour of overhauling Bradman‘s record of scoring the quickest 1,000 Test runs in just a dozen innings — one less than the Australian icon.
Weekes was not just a wonderful cricketer; he was a wonderful human being too. To quote Barbados Today: “He [Weekes] was the among the first to beat back that tide of [racial] prejudice with some of the most elegant strokes any cricketer had ever seen, since George Headley in the inter-war years. It was his swashbuckling style that introduced the world to the grace, class, colour, competence and majesty of playing cricket the West Indian way. Before [Sir Gary] Sobers — his disciple — [Rohan Kanhai], Lawrence Rowe, Clive Lloyd and Sir Vivian Richards, Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes, Brian Lara and Carl Hooper, Chris Gayle and Kraigg Brathwaite — there was Everton Weekes. One of the most compact and complete players ever to grace the game. He cut, drove, caressed and blocked the red cherry with timing that seemed to stretch the space-time continuum itself.”
Long after having hung his boots, Weekes established a ‘bridge’ of his own outside cricket. He represented his country in bridge at World Championships, and other tourneys. He had no regrets as regards the emergence of big money in modern cricket. He would often say, “I suppose the pioneers never seem to get much out of the beautiful things in life. But, I am not complaining. We can’t all be born at the same time.” Words of wisdom any which way you look at it.
When this writer connected with Farokh Engineer, the former India wicket-keeper-batsman’s vintage touch and dashing batsmanship, came to the fore. Engineer responded ever so graciously and at jet-speed: “Everton was a dear friend. Even after my playing days, we always met up in Barbados, along with Worrell, Sobers, Wes Hall; also Greenidge and Haynes. During India’s last tour of the West Indies, Everton wanted to meet Virat Kohli in the President’s Room in Trinidad as it was raining, and there was no play that day; so, I requested Anil Kumble and Virat to come up for a minute which they very kindly did. A great moment, indeed, for all of us, as Sobers was with us too… I’ve also had the pleasure of playing bridge with Everton in Barbados. A great man and great batsman — one of the best, indeed.”
Weekes, who was also fond of jazz music and travel, thought it was just tomfoolery to compare cricketers of yore with players today. In his words, “I think the fielding has improved tremendously. The players are fitter. But, the bowling and batting are at about the same level. There have been some great batsmen from all the cricketing countries, and I think they measure up favourably with the great players of the past.” Umpiring? Weekes was greatly concerned about the growing problems of players showing dissent over decisions, among other things. And, understandably so.
Weekes always excelled in hitting the ball rather than pushing his pads at it. The commonplace usage of pads, in modern cricket, Weekes often bemoaned, was a disagreeable phenomenon. His view on the lofted shot? Yes, it came from a powerful, hard-hitting batsman, who struck just one six in his entire Test career. Amazed? But, you better believe it. “You’ve a better chance hitting the ball flat rather than in the air. Three fours, in my opinion, are always better than two sixes.” Weekes was also unhappy with cricket pitches today. His riposte, “When I was playing, the ball used to come through at an even clip. Nowadays, the bounce is uneven from the second day of Tests. I think more attention should be paid to the preparation of pitches.”
His Test record speaks of its own remarkable language: the language of achievement. 48 Tests; 81 innings; 4,455 runs; 15 hundreds; 19 fifties; 207 highest score; 58.61 average. Look at that average. Wow. Add to that his five big tons, in a row, in as many Test innings, and you’ve Weekes’ exalted status in all its cricketing eminence. Quite like his cricket, they have everything that ‘made’ him a willow charmer — simple, complex, and one with a towering mind-set — totally devoid of balderdash.
— First published in Cricket Odyssey
