The Magnifico

Every time a cricketing icon departs, the instinct of a sports writer takes over and I usually hit the keyboard. The demise of Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi was different. The instinct had deserted me. The mind had gone numb. The heart seemed to have run dry of its juice. A feeling so overwhelming for a man whom I didn’t know beyond a couple of phone calls was strange. There are times when one does not realize the import of a person’s influence on one’s life till he suddenly decides to meet his Maker. Tiger Pataudi belonged to that extraordinary league of gentlemen.

Mansur’s parents may have inadvertently named him ‘Tiger’ for his fastish crawling during childhood but the name stealthily had its influence on his bearing. This Tiger fiercely defended his territory on a cricket field and was a top predator. A good length ball was often converted into a half-volley and dispatched with regal disdain. If his footwork had feline alacrity, his batting had the fury and flourish of a typical Indian summer. Tiger’s signature late-cut had the precision of a Swiss watch, and which would often leave fielders rooted to the ground. Speed thrilled him; no fast bowler could intimidate him with a bouncer. He would invariably pounce on it with a blinding hook shot. And he achieved all this with just one eye. A rather freakish car accident on 1^st July ’61 had left his right eye permanently damaged. It’s nothing short of a miracle that within five months of the accident, Tiger made his Test debut on 13^th Dec. ’61 against England in New Delhi. It’s a testimony to the man’s genius that despite such a debilitating handicap he scored a century (103) in his third Test match in Madras.

If destiny played a cruel joke, it made up a year later by installing him as India’s youngest captain at 21. Ironically, it came with another nasty injury, this time on a cricket field — Indian captain Nari Contractor was felled by a Charlie Griffith’s bouncer. The incident would have left any other 21-year-old mortified. Tiger, however, was wired differently. Captaincy was just another aspect of the game and for Tiger it came with the territory. A natural leader, he quickly realized the resources of his team and evolved a strategy that gave India its famous spin quartet — Prasanna, Bedi, Chandra and Venkat.

A cricketing nation that took 20 years to win its first Test match, took only five years under Pataudi to script its first overseas series win — a resounding 3-1 victory over New Zealand in ’67-68. Tiger was the architect of this team of New India that believed, for the first time, it could win.

The only child of his parents, Mansur was packed off to England soon after his illustrious father, Iftikhar Ali Khan Pataudi, who scored a century on his debut in the Bodyline series, passed away on his 11^th birthday in 1952. The young lad not only found the English climate cold but also the people around him. Having suffered a monumental loss in the form of his father’s tragic death, the growing up in a distant land, far away from the comfort of his mother’s presence, made Tiger further reticent and reserved. And with the passing years it became an inextricable aspect of his character. Though in later years it lend an aura of mystery to his flamboyant persona but it also, as often happens, created a myth of arrogance. Some believe Tiger Pataudi paid a price for it when the chairman of the selection committee, Vijay Merchant, vetoed his captaincy for the historic ’71 series to the West Indies and England. All the rigour and planning that he had put in with his boys, since he took over the captaincy, came together in magnificent fruition when India, finally, conquered West India (1-0) and England (1-0) under Wadekar’s captaincy. Tragically, he was not a part of the historic team as he had politely declined to join as a regular player under Ajit Wadekar. His career ended in ’75 but not before he led India to two splendid Test victories against the mighty West Indians in his last series.

The figure of 46 Test, 2,793 runs, 6 centuries and 16 half-centuries is at best only a half-baked reflection of what he achieved on and off the field with a handicap which would have prevented a lesser mortal to even walk on to a cricket field, let alone dominate it for almost a decade and a half.

India may have lost its most majestic Tiger, but not before he carved out a team that had the self-belief, which had eluded the Indian teams of the past. Tiger’s journey may have ended but his legacy of playing the game in the spirit of a champion will live on.