That favourite parlour sport of all amateur cricket lovers — picking an all-time India eleven — is hard to resist for any fan, and I am no exception.
First, the ground rules: I am picking a Test eleven, fit to carry the nation’s banners onto the field in the highest form of the game, not a side for the crash-bang-wallop forms of the sport known as One Day Internationals and Twenty20s.
Second, I am limiting myself to players from a little more than the past half-century. I watched my first Test match at the age of seven, in 1963, and feel it would be presumptuous of me to judge those who had hung up their boots before then, however much I might admire their exploits from what I have read of them.
Vinoo Mankad, that magnificent all-rounder, who could win (or save) matches for India with both the bat and his wily left-arm spin, was surely an immortal, but I had never seen him ply his craft, even though I know that he improbably scored 72 and 184 and took 5 for 196 in the 1952 Lord’s Test (and attained the ‘double’ of 1,000 runs and 100 wickets in only his 23rd Test, despite making a late debut at thirty because of World War II). Similarly, I have no basis to evaluate the genius of the great Vijays (Merchant, Hazare, and Manjrekar), the Guptes, the redoubtable Polly Umrigar or the mercurial Dattu Phadkar on the basis of their averages alone, let alone the grainy and wholly inadequate black-and-white footage that remains of their exploits.
But that still gives me plenty to choose from. In the fifty-eight years that I have watched cricket in person or on television, followed matches on static-ridden short-wave radio or unfolding ball by ball on the internet, I have witnessed some of the greatest ever players to have sported Indian colours. The inimitable Gavaskar, Kapil Dev, and Kohli are profiled elsewhere in this volume, but there are many more. The prodigiously talented Pataudi, whose accomplishments might have been far greater had he not been deprived of an eye in a car crash at the age of twenty; the moody Salim Durani, a world-beater one minute, a journeyman the next, who famously specialised in hitting sixes into precisely that corner of the stands which was chanting for it the loudest; the lithe Mohammed Azharuddin, whose debut century against England (which I witnessed at the Eden Gardens) was followed up by two more in his next two Test matches; the astonishing Virender Sehwag, who combined breathtaking strokeplay with an audacity rarely practised by an Indian, and never previously with such success; the peerless Tendulkar, whose accumulation of runs and records places him on everyone’s list of the best batsmen of all time; the consistent, thoughtful Dravid, whose average rivals Tendulkar’s; the elegant match-winning Laxman, who seemed to perform his best against the most redoubtable opponents; and the unflagging Kumble, of whom Shakespeare might have written that age cannot wither, nor custom stale, his infinite lack of variety, yet whose skill and tenacity have added him to the ranks of India’s cricketing immortals…. I could go on, but must not.
One final ground rule: We must pick a side to play the Rest of the World at Lord’s, the Mecca of the cricketing faithful. This means an eleven for English conditions, able to cope with grassy pitches and overcast skies, capable of exploiting (and countering) pace, swing, and seam. If the match were to be in Eden Gardens instead, or at Chepauk, some changes would be unavoidable.
So, reviewing all the players I have seen since 1963, who would I pick for the Greatest Indian Test XI of the last half-century? First, the openers. Ever since his astonishing debut in the West Indies in 1971, Sunil Gavaskar has had no peer as an opening batsman: Correct in technique, immaculate in defence, incisive in strokeplay, extremely difficult to dismiss, the side is unthinkable without him. To open with him, though, we must pick his opposite — Virender Sehwag, he of the flashing blade and ready smile, with his ‘see-ball-hit-ball’ philosophy, the first Indian to score a triple century, then to repeat the feat and to come within 7 runs of doing so a third time! Some would make a case for Rohit Sharma, and were this an ODI team I would concede the point — but Sehwag’s Test record is inescapably vastly superior. The other contender might be the doughty Gautam Gambhir, a left-handed version of Gavaskar, but without the world-beating figures to match; so Gavaskar and Sehwag it is.
Some would make a case for Rohit Sharma, but Sehwag’s Test record is inescapably vastly superior. AFP
At number three, there really is no debate: Rahul Dravid it must be, steely, unflappable, determined, ‘The Wall’ the enemy had to breach before conquering the Indian fort. (Cheteshwar Pujara is a worthy successor to his slot, but cannot displace the original). Partnering Dravid, at four, we have Sachin Tendulkar, perhaps the greatest-ever Indian batsman in terms both of talent and its fulfilment. Blooded — and bloodied — at sixteen on a tough tour of Pakistan, Tendulkar had a long and distinguished career, played more Test matches than anyone else, and broke every record available to him in the process. He joins Dravid in the middle with even less dissent than at an RSS gathering on the merits of Hindutva.
Virat Kohli comes in next, pushed a slot lower than he might like by his senior, Tendulkar. Unlike the first four in this team, he is still an active player while this is being written, and he might yet eclipse the unchallengeable Sachin, but his credentials as an Immortal are already beyond question, as is his ability to face whatever an opponent might throw at him, and his fierce will to win. And, with a top five of Gavaskar, Sehwag, Dravid, Tendulkar, and Kohli, there is no need for a sixth specialist batsman, so I must reluctantly put aside the claims of VVS (‘Very Very Special’) Laxman, Mohammed Azharuddin, Dilip Vengsarkar, Sourav Ganguly, Mohinder Amarnath, Rohit Sharma again, and Ajinkya Rahane, all major contributors to Indian totals around the world over the years. Any of them would be an asset to have in the pavilion, ready to come on as a ‘concussion substitute’, but this team needs all-rounders at six and seven rather than another batsman. Yes, Mohinder’s medium-paced inswingers could be useful in English conditions, but a specialist bowler (which Mohinder ceased to be early in his career) would do that job better.
Instead, at six, I would put a wicketkeeper who usually batted a notch lower, ‘Captain Cool’ himself, Mahendra Singh Dhoni. A superb ‘keeper’ arguably the best I have seen (though Wriddhiman Saha comes close purely in wicketkeeping skills), Dhoni was also a superb batsman, with a Test double century to his name, and a cool, calculating cricketing brain to go with it. Next to him, at number 7, the unrivalled all-round talents of Kapil Dev, prodigious hitter, and swinger of the ball at pace, who would bring a zest to the line-up that would infuse energy and zip into the side.
Four more bowlers are now required, of whom, at Lord’s, only one need be a spinner. And that one must be Anil Kumble, with his 600+ wickets won through grit as well as craft. Dismissed by Tiger Pataudi on his entry into Test cricket in 1990 as a player who couldn’t bat, bowl, or field, Kumble became India’s highest wicket-taker, took 10 wickets in an innings against Pakistan, bowled against the West Indies with a broken jaw, and captained the Test side with rare courage. He must be an automatic pick.
Three more pacemen, then: Zaheer Khan, with his left-arm pace, swing, and guile; the whippy Javagal Srinath; and the still-unplayable Jasprit Bumrah. In Indian conditions, Srinath would have to make way for the spinning wiles of Bishen Bedi or Ravichandran Ashwin, but at Lord’s they might have to carry the drinks. Still, if the weather forecast is good, as it so rarely is in that benighted land, one of them could still come in to the side to give India two spinners to go with three pacemen; but otherwise, Sehwag and Tendulkar have both taken Test wickets with their occasional spin, and could relieve Kumble whenever needed.
In Indian conditions, Srinath would have to make way for the spinning wiles of Bishen Bedi or Ravichandran Ashwin, but at Lord’s they might have to carry the drinks. AFP
Finally, the captaincy: An impossible decision, given that all of the first eight have led India at one time or another (Sehwag least of all, it is true, and Kohli most successfully in Tests, having won 36 out of 60 against Dhoni’s 27 of 60). Still, I would plump for the man who for a generation of Indian cricket fans has epitomised the confidence and calm of captaincy, Dhoni. Poised behind the stumps, surveying all around him with the gimlet eye of the general, Dhoni has proven he can marshal his troops, react to circumstances around him, and lead the charge when needed.
And so, there we have it — the Indian Immortals XI of My Time: Gavaskar, Sehwag, Dravid, Tendulkar, Kohli, Dhoni (captain & wk), Kapil Dev, Kumble, Zaheer, Srinath (weather permitting), Bumrah. Reserves: Azhar, Laxman, Rohit, Ashwin, and Bedi (one of the last two to swap with Srinath depending on pitch and climate conditions). Twelfth man just for his brilliantly agile substitute fielding: Ravindra Jadeja.
It’s striking, of course, that out of a pool that goes back to 1963, I have picked so many twenty-first century stalwarts. But it’s not surprising: Of India’s 162 wins since it obtained Test status as a cricketing nation in 1932, 101 have come since 2000. A measure of how good Indian cricket has become in the twenty-first century is that out of 220 Tests India has played since 2000, it has won an impressive 45.9 percent — against an overall success rate of just 29.45 percent from the total of 550 Tests it has played altogether. India even went for a streak of 19 Tests between 2015 and 2017 without losing a single time.
I don’t expect this fantasy team to, either.
The writer is a politician, an author and a former career diplomat who is currently serving as Member of Parliament. The article is an edited excerpt from his latest book, ‘Pride, Prejudice, and Punditry’ (Aleph publications).