Mansur Ali Khan ‘Tiger’ Pataudi was, doubtless, India’s leading batsman in the 1960s, and early 1970s. Yet, what takes precedence was his reputation as one of the best captains the country ever produced — the best, perhaps, of his type.
As a batsman, ‘Tiger’ was cavalier and creative. The Atlas of Indian batting — in word and deed. To pick two instances. His courageous 148 against England, after India followed-on, at Leeds; his brilliant 75 and 85, at Melbourne, against Australia, despite being injured — in the late 1960s.
Pataudi’s batting was based on orthodoxy, but thanks to his enormous talent, he was also chirpy to the point of being unorthodox — whenever he wanted. Take for example, the lovely lofted shot through which he’d despatch the ball, pitched outside the off-stump, with the precision of a surgeon, to the ropes and beyond.
Pataudi [January 5, 1941-September 22, 2011] had all the attributes that were prerequisite to making one a consummate captain. Catapulted into the slot, at age 21, when Nari Contractor was felled by a Charlie Griffith ‘snorter,’ in the West Indies, in 1962, ‘Tiger’ led from the front. The best part: he was decisive without being overbearing. A shrewd thinker, ‘Tiger’ was, doubtless, a tactician of the top draw too. He could spot a batsman’s weakness and invent the right strategy to ‘trap’ him, as it were.
A fine team man, who could stand up to the players’ cause, ‘Tiger’ led India to more than a handful of memorable triumphs with the crafty, non-violent armoury he so remarkably moulded — the famous spin quartet — Erapalli Prasanna, Bishen Singh Bedi, Bhagwat Chandrasekhar, and Srinivas Venkataraghavan. Add to it, his self-propelled initiatives, in the outfield, and close-in catching, and this was a blessing.
‘Tiger’ led India in 40 Tests with classical acumen and poise. He also played for Oxford and Sussex, and if only his ‘twenty-twenty vision’ had not deserted him, his average would have been a few rungs above 34+ — which he achieved with the help of six hundreds and 16 fifties. Besides, he’d have been a huge success in instant cricket — if only he’d played the game today.
‘Tiger’ had cricket in his genetics. His father, Iftikhar Ali Khan Pataudi, played for England — and, captained India [Note: The father and son scored their first Test centuries against Australia]. A true blue-blood, ‘Tiger’ was not just a rage in his prime, but also everyone’s heart-throb. He was ‘bowled,’ in real life, by the renowned film actress, Sharmila Tagore. Their partnership was as solid as a rock.
What’s more, long after he hung up his cricket boots, ‘Tiger’ was still a face quite easily recognised — even by a generation that was not witness to his exploits on the cricket field.
Flashback. The atmosphere was as celebratory as any cricket match, at Bangalore, now Bengaluru, the Garden City. The bugles, drums and conch shells, were all at their boisterous best. The blare, excitement and expectancy were all too obvious. ‘Tiger’ Pataudi was attempting… after a three-year ‘sabbatical,’ to getting back his rightful place, which he should never have lost in the first place — but, for V M Merchant’s casting vote.
The match: South Zone vs England, 1972-73. The crowd was behind Pataudi, from the word go, albeit most had also reserved their prayers for the local lad, Brijesh Patel — the promising, flamboyant young batsman.
South Zone’s innings did not begin on a high note. The openers, K Jayantilal and V S Vijaykumar, a fine player, who had almost thrown the Test door ajar, but just couldn’t make the grade, were dismissed, thanks to the well-directed and efficient bowling of Geoff Arnold, a prodigious mover of the ball, and Bob Cottam, a county thoroughbred, whose length, line and direction, were as neat as his close, neat hair-cut.
It was not long before Gundappa Vishwanath, the darling of the crowd and resident hero, got into the thick of action. He was in good nick. The velvety touch of his bat, the gentle placement and ease of action, were all too evident. But, after he had made 30-odd runs, Vishy perished to what looked like an innocuous delivery. Yet, one elegant shot stood out. A cut, off a low Arnold delivery — what with the bat stretched and placed almost horizontally on the ground. It sped like a tracer-bullet, even though there was no force extended by Vishy’s blade. The stroke is recorded in the picture library of one’s memory, even today.
‘Tiger’ walked in. He’s in awful form. A man sitting next to this writer said with sarcasm: “That’s it. He’s over the hill, even before he’d thought of climbing it. He just can’t make it back to the Test side. No chance…” My adrenaline shot up, but I could not do anything better. Pataudi was my one, great hero — at that point in time. I ‘swallowed’ my anger, and disgust. As for a SSC student, and a decent all-rounder with my school’s cricket team, Pataudi made me sit at the edge of the precipice. He did not open his account for long, too long. It’s typical of him. A stupendous player when he’d get going and a miserable ‘reprobate’ at the other extreme.
A wicket, or two, fell, in the meanwhile.
In walked Patel to a grand reception. Sure, he was nervous. He had to do well, because so much was expected of him. ‘Tiger’ walked up, patted the vast moustached colt, a slender Merv Hughes’ version, with thoughtful words of encouragement…
Before long, ‘Tiger,’ with the collegian at the other end, began his prowl… That vintage touch, which seemed to have deserted him, returned all of a sudden. In his element, Pataudi was again a pleasure to watch. The floppy hat cockily pulled down, the power in his armoury back in its place. Arnold, Cottam, the spinner, Jack Birkenshaw, and his partner, Norman Gifford, who must have heard stories of Pataudi’s prolific hitting, at will, as an Oxford Blue and with Sussex First XI, knew what was in store.
It was about this time that a classical shot emanated from his bat. A cover drive off Arnold — who, with Chris Old, was destined to scuttling out India, at Lord’s, for an ignominious 42, in a Test match, the following year. Pataudi had timed his shot to perfection. What was more amazing was his placement. He had drawn the line of his shot in his mind, just enough to beat Barry Wood, a brilliant fielder in that position, on a full-length drive. After the ball had evaded his attempt, Wood, in appreciation, applauded, lying flat on the turf. Freeze frame. Such shots can give anyone what is called as photographic memory. One can also never ever forget the romance, thrill and joy, of that moment: a fleet-footed essay from a batsman who could have become one of the greatest players of all time, if he hadn’t lost one eye in a car mishap.
Patel, inspired by Pataudi’s batting, had also now come into his own. As he began to execute his howitzer-like shots all round the wicket, the ecstatic mood in the stands had reached its crescendo. The man, who had been so critical of Pataudi, now looked pleased. Maybe, he was a good sport. He was now calling the shots. With his palms. My innumerable pleas to god, I felt, were answered. I was still fidgety, though. The grapevine made us believe that Ajit Wadekar had told Pataudi that he’d be back for the Third Test, at Madras, now Chennai, if he got a hundred.
Pataudi soon reached his 50; Patel, his. And, both batsmen, after having thrilled the crowd, were on overdrive at draw of stumps. When play resumed the following day, Patel got out early, after he’d made an exhilarating 93. But, Tiger duly completed his wonderful ton — an innings of contrasts. From a scratchy beginning, his innings had blossomed like a flower, insidiously, to the light and warmth of the sun.
‘Tiger’ was back in the India squad for the Madras Test. And, he made a delightful 73, pronto, in the first innings, and, then, guided India in the second, to a fantastic victory after Pat Pocock had caused a big scare with his spin bowling. In the next Test, at Kanpur, ‘Tiger’ was again among the runs, with a well-compiled 50. In the final Test, at Bombay, he looked totally out of sorts with himself. He scored just 5 in an hour. He was booed. While reflecting upon that innings, he once told a veteran cricket writer that he wanted to get out, but somehow he couldn’t. It was just one of those days, when the spirit was willing, the chemistry wasn’t.
While Patel went to England and made his Test debut the next season, Pataudi had to opt out of the tour for personal reasons. Well, it was exactly a year later that Pataudi was compelled to holding the willow again. This time as captain against Clive Lloyd’s mighty West Indians, after India returned from Blighty a shattered, demoralised side. ‘Tiger’ was equal to the task, albeit he had, during the interlude, played golf, not cricket. Yet, he showed how cricket is played in the mind. Down in the first two Tests, India bounced back to win the next two, thanks to his classy management skills, also strategy, juxtaposed by Vishy’s magnificence and the famous spin quartet’s awesome radiance.
‘Tiger’ sure did India proud in his last series — sans fuss, showy glitz, or pontificated hype. He did what he knew best — lead from the front.
— First published in Cricket Odyssey
