Cricket folklore is replete with the deeds of great players, but none, perhaps, had to work as hard and with focused determination as one of India’s first supreme all-rounders, Vinoo Mankad. While Ranjitsinhji and Duleepsinhji were the rarest of knights that ever wore the white flannels, Mankad, who also came from Jamnagar, as the two princes did, was no less a rare Jewel in the Crown of World Cricket.
It was an interesting quirk that Mankad’s natural prowess was first tapped by none other than Duleep, a wizard of the willow, who moulded the youngster, from a raw medium-pace bowler and ‘rabbit’ with the bat, into one of the finest players the game has ever known. It was, thereafter, left to the brilliant vision of coach Bert Wensley of Surrey to transform Mankad into what was to shape his true destiny: a miracle of a slow spinner. It was a vocation that seemed to suit Mankad’s physique well. It’s also, indeed, a rare case of a cricket teacher who thought of the ‘perfect’ idea, and solution, for his ward.
Following the Duleep-Wensley ‘treatment,’ Mankad looked only ahead, never back. Come 1938-39, he was a star in his own right. The 1946 tour of England was to Mankad what Wimbledon was to Fred Perry, a decade earlier. When he bagged the coveted ‘double,’ in Blighty, Haslingden Club, in the Lancashire League, signed Mankad for a fancy fee: one of the highest-ever paid contracts, till then, for an overseas cricketer. Also, thanks to league cricket and its spirit of professionalism, Mankad soon blossomed into a giant of an all-rounder. He had just about everything in him: talent, pro-enterprise, fine game plan, and amazing ball sense.
While showering éclat on Mankad’s ‘double’ [1,000 runs; 100 wickets] — the first by an Indian in England — one Indian scribe wrote, “… And, to think that, at one stage, his [Mankad’s] selection was doubtful. Scoring over 1,000 runs at an average of 30 per innings, he also captured 129 wickets at an average of 29. Had our fielding been up to the mark, he might have had over 200 wickets. To give, but one instance, during the closing stages of the tour, 47 catches were dropped in four matches, no fewer than 15 in the match against South of England…” It was apt summary. Sloppy fielding was, indeed, the bane of Indian cricket for a long time.
Else, Mankad’s overall record, with the ball, would have been far more impressive. When India toured Down Under, the following year, Mankad, India’s ace spinner-cum-opening batsman, was subject to a horrifying ‘cycle,’ while facing that great pace bowler, Ray Lindwall, in the first two Tests. Mankad, the thoroughbred, was quite nonplussed. At a party, at the end of the first day’s play in the Third Test, he sought out Lindwall, and asked him point-blank whether he was doing something impish. The extrovert paceman told the charming Indian that he was taking his own sweet time to nullifying his yorker, what with his ‘far too’ economical back-lift. Mankad got what he wanted. His way of saying thanks? A classy 116, the next day — the first by an Indian, in Australia, in under two hours and 15 minutes. Lindwall’s ‘cadgy’ counsel was akin to what the stylish Pakistani batsman Zaheer Abbas offered Mohammed Azharuddin in another era. Who says there are no gentlemen in the game? However, Mankad did not stop at that. In the Final Test, he yet again mastered the Aussie attack, when Lindwall and Keith Miller bowled at their fastest, and duly recorded a fine century.
Mankad now waited to do one better. His wish was fulfilled in England, five years later — at Lord’s, in what is now cherished as ‘Mankad’s Test.’ Mankad, recalled from the Lancashire circuit — the selectors, as Mohinder Amarnath, one of India’s best batsmen ever, equated were ‘jokers’ long before — fought singlehandedly. His supreme effort demonstrated by the fact that he was on the field for all but 190 minutes of the match. His incredible solo: 256 runs [72, and 184]; and, 5 for 231, in 97 overs, a superhuman effort… for one mortal.
India lost the Test, but Mankad’s sterling performance gave defeat a new kind of respectability. As spectators rendered a standing ovation, Mankad, when queried by a journalist, replied, “Well, as an all-rounder, I should be able to score runs, and take wickets.” His riposte spoke volumes for the Mankad persona… who was every inch a gentle knight.
Mankad, clothed with cricket greatness, was India’s pride and joy, during his halcyon days. He always exuded warmth and humility, not arrogance. But, as a pro, he was tough. He once ran out Bill Brown, in a match against an Australian XI, for backing up too far. It earned him some unjust notoriety, though Mankad had warned the batsman once. His ‘act’ got the tag, a new phrase: ‘to be Mankaded.’
Noted Jack Fingleton, “Mankad is the best of his type since Verity.” Touché! However, the best accolade for Mankad was reserved by John Arlott, “His [Mankad] rebellious, straight black hair gleaming, laughter richly present in his deep-set blue eyes, he bustles powerfully through his short run and bowls with a thick left-arm — the orthodox left-hander’s spinning leaving the bat, or, when least expected, and with no change of action, the ball that goes with the arm. And, the ball bowled, he is tense to scamper to mid-on, or mid-off to stifle a single at conception. Give him the ball, for he wants to bowl again, his over will last little more than a minute, and he has so much to do. There is no time for expressions of regret, surprise, or disappointment, there are many ways of dismissing a batsman, and he will try them all. Throw a ball high, full-toss, or the spinner, tossed higher but pitching no further up, the in-swinger at almost medium-pace, or spin to a length and watch — but, never become automatic, never bowl the armless ball, never let the batsmen rest. And, Mankad never allows a batsman to rest.”
Mankad also holds a unique record. He is the only one of the two yesteryear players — the other being Wilfred Rhodes — to have played in almost all positions of the batting order, in big-time cricket… How can one also forget Mankad’s amazing opening stand with Pankaj Roy of 413 runs against the Kiwis, at Madras [now Chennai]? His contribution: 231. His age: 39. This wasn’t all. Long before Ian Botham, Mankad’s Test ‘double’ in 23 Tests was the quickest. Besides, Mankad topped 2,000 runs, and 150 wickets, in only his 40th Test match. If World War II had not delayed his Test baptism, Mankad’s record would have had more gloss, or extra sheen. Think of it. Mankad was 29 when he won his first Test cap.
Mankad was his own compass, his own radar. Like Bishan Singh Bedi, who bid fair to a tradition that began with the spinning legend from Jamnagar. The sad part — while Mankad’s genius ended with Mankad, Bedi’s seems most likely to have ended with Bedi, not Maninder Singh, who flattered only to deceive.
Mankad played in 44 Tests. He scored 2,109 runs, at an average of 31.49, inclusive of five tons. As a hypnotic bowler, Mankad captured 162 Test wickets, at an average of 32.32. He took 5 wickets in an innings 8 times; and, 10 wickets in a match, twice. He also took 33 catches, as a sprightly fielder, and captained India in six Tests.
Mankad was a titan. He’s assured of a permanent place in cricket’s Hall of Fame.
— First published in The Illustrated Weekly of India
