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SPUN IN
STEEL: An intimate account
Anil Kumble became only the third bowler to break the 600-wicket mark when he dismissed Andrew Symonds on the second afternoon of the third Test in Perth. Kumble, who reached the landmark in his 124th Test, joined his spin colleagues Shane Warne and Muttiah Muralitharan in the elite club. ANAND VASU reveals the elusive
man behind India’s tallest matchwinner who has had to turn many a hurdle on
its head. But his focus, and principles, have
remained unerring.
“CAN I BOWL
spin?” the betspectacled schoolboy mediumpace bowler, one body size
too large for his age group, asked the bemused umpire. Mohammad Yousef
Sale Motorwala, the umpire, famously and somewhat notoriously known as
Yousa in Karnataka cricket circles, had just restrained this young bowler
from doing his job. Anil Kumble was playing
for National High School against the much feted St Joseph’s Indian
High School in the BTR memorial trophy inter-school final, and was operating
with the new ball as a medium-pace
bowler on a matting wicket.
Four times in an over, Kumble was called for chucking, but it was a typical
Yousa decision. More than locating an obvious kink in the bowling action,
Yousa was concerned about the disconcerting pace this boy was generating
from a disproportionately small run-up, and was not sure if he was perhaps
a year or two older than the grade of cricket he was playing in. There
was nothing the umpire could do about either. What he could do, and batsmen
round the world should curse him for it, was suspect the legality of this
medium-pace bowler’s action, and turn him into a legspinner.
“Through his leg spin he got four wickets
and his school won the match. The rest, as they
say, is history,” Yousa recalls. It was the first
time National High School won the hotly contested
inter-school city tournament, and they
have not done so since. “I met him after he got
10 wickets in an innings against Pakistan at a
felicitation function organised by the KSCA.
Jokingly he told me, you called me for chucking
and I got 10 wickets in an innings. I cannot
take credit for changing Anil into a
legspinner,” says Yousa with a humility you
would expect from a long-serving domestic
umpire, the kind who rarely get their due. But
he’s quick to add, “I did my duty. I only created
a world-class bowler.” That was the first time
Kumble came up against a road block, a noentry
sign even, and he’d circumvented it without
cutting any corners.
With almost 600 wickets to his name, the
Test captaincy of India rightfully resting on
those unusually broad shoulders that first
raised the suspicions of an umpire all those
years ago, it’s now easy to call Kumble a worldclass
bowler. But it almost did not happen.
When Kumble, on his first tour for India, insubstitute
in the third Test at The Oval, he was
posted at fine leg. With the batsmen repeatedly
resorting to the sweep shot against the leg
spin of Narendra Hirwani, there was repeated
adjusting of Kumble’s position. Sometimes he
was told to come in, sometimes pushed back.
On one such instance when he was fielding in
the circle, a top-edged sweep swirled over his
head. Kumble thought nothing of it, and when
the teams walked off the field with the match
drawn and the series lost, he was seated in the
area that separated the two dressing-rooms. “This is the problem bringing club cricketers
on a Test tour,” a cricketer now acknowledged
as one of the legends India has produced, remarked
in frustration as he walked past Kumble,
somehow affixing blame to the substitute
fielder. Kumble was so obviously distraught,
having no idea of what crime he had committed
to draw such public rebuke, that he was reduced
to tears. Another junior cricketer on the
tour walked across to Kumble and pulled him
into the dressing room. “If you react like this,
they will just give it to you more,” he told Kumble,
and the composure immediately returned.
Again a road block, again a solution.
It’s extremely difficult to put a finger on
Kumble the person if you are a journalist, because
he does not want you to get to read that
pulse. He knows who his friends are, what role
journalists play in a cricketer’s life, and there is
never a blurring of the line. There are no noballs
on this count. You might have known him
for years and yet not known him at all. Rahul
Dravid is simplistically called The Wall, but
even he is easier to get close to than Anil.
Rahul might not acknowledge being a friend,
but will talk cheerfully to you at the worst of
times, not once letting a quote slip through.
The ones who get the quotes are journalists
who have been unfair to him repeatedly, yet
get through. Saurav Ganguly is not a politician,
but he understands the game. He’ll never say
no to an interview request, but not every
affirmative reply will end in a positive result.
Sachin Tendulkar you won’t get close to, unless
he’s contracted to speak to your media
house or you’re one of the anointed few who
are granted access.
Kumble is more straightforward than all of
them and more difficult. I called him when the
Indian captaincy debate was at its height, to
ask if he’d take the job. “I don’t know why
you’re asking me this question,” he began, irritation
thick in his voice. Dravid and Tendulkar
had turned down the job, and I just meant to
check, I said to him. “You guys make a big deal
of this. Of course I’ll take the job if it’s offered
to me,” he said, almost dismissing me.
IT WAS not long before when Kumble announced
his retirement from one-day
cricket to a captive audience at the P-2 Hall
in the Chinnaswamy Stadium. “If the captaincy
was given to you, would you reconsider?” I
asked. He shot me a sidelong glance, peering
to check who had the temerity to ask such a
question before shooting me a look that told
me that I’d made a mistake in asking the question.
He did not grace it with an answer. When
the press conference was done with, and all the
usual questions dismissed, a woman came up
to me and demanded to know which TV channel
or newspaper I worked for. With a degree
of disinterest that would have done Anil proud
I told her that I worked for a website, and suggested
it might do her some good to read it.
That woman was Chetna Kumble.
Furiously apologising to Anil was easy
enough but it left me severely red-faced.
Surely, any self-respecting Indian cricket journalist
should be able to recognise Mrs Kumble.
But that’s hardly true. In this day and age, when
cricketers make it to Page 3 even when they’re
not making any runs, and when prospective
and potential girlfriends are constantly in the
news, Kumble is toweringly different. Not because
he aspires to be so, or shies away from
the media, but just because he is who he is.
When tykes who had not earned their stripes
were raking in the endorsement millions,
Kumble was still an unsaleable commodity for
sports marketing houses.
Anil will not like this piece on him, though
it is meant to be a tribute. He does not let his
personal life become public and he would
probably have preferred that what happened
to him in England stayed private. He will be irritated
that this mentions the time in 2004
when the Supreme Court of India granted sole
custody of a child from an earlier marriage to
the woman who is his wife, and was carrying
his child at the time. “The Supreme Court
cannot trace any deception in Kumble,”
screamed the headlines. Justices Shivraj V. Patil
and DM Adhikari never faced Kumble’s
bowling, clearly.
Trying to talk to Dinesh, Anil’s brother, or
his parents or wife about Anil as a person is
an exercise in futility. Yes, we know he’s a
committed family man, yes we know he’s an
intelligent and caring husband, yes we know
he’s a doting father. But what more? You draw
a blank.
There are instructive things you can learn
about Kumble in the manner in which he does
things. In early 1999, he picked up 10 wickets
in an innings against Pakistan at Delhi. Before
the year was done, he was left out of an Indian
team that toured Sri Lanka. When the press,
perhaps trying to play down the issue, wrote
that Kumble had been rested, he was quick to
get on the phone and ask a reporter, “Who
told you I’ve been rested. I haven’t got a call
from the selectors telling me that. As far as
I’m concerned I’ve been dropped and need to
work on whatever my limitations are to make
a comeback.”
Then there is the recent instance when
Kumble returned to his school for a felicitation
ceremony to mark his appointment as captain.
When the students began to sing the school’s
prayer song, Kumble instantly joined in. “When you started the prayer, it reminded me
of my days standing where you are and singing
it,” Kumble would later say when he addressed
the students. Anil K., as he was registered in
the rolls of the school, remembered the words
of the prayer though it had been a full 21 years
since they were last on his lips. “What is heartening
to see is that the tradition and culture I
saw and inculcated during my days here as a
student are still intact. With the progress made
in other fields, it’s also important that we stick
to our tradition,” Kumble said, and every person
present hung on to each of his words.
When you speak to people about Kumble
certain words keep coming up. Commitment,
discipline, hard work, introvert, perseverance.
These are a nightmare for someone trying to
conjure up an image of the person behind the
steely glare, because their meaning is so well
known but so rarely adhered to. Yet with
Kumble there are enough instances, if the way
a person plays his cricket is an accurate reflection
of his personality, to highlight each of
these traits.
NO PIECE on Kumble the person would
be complete without reference to his
coming out to bowl against West
Indies in Antigua after having his jaw broken.
There was a split in the bone and Kumble
could feel it move every time he took a step.
Strapped in bandages and looking like a ghost,
Kumble ran in and did his thing, against the
advice of the physiotherapist, because it just
had to be done. There was no great fuss over it,
no drama from the man himself, but it was the
closest thing to an act of bravery on a cricket
field as any.
But cricket, to which Kumble has given the
largest chunk of life, was not without some
grace, for it was only right that Kumble got the
Test captaincy, even if it only came to him in
his 37th year. For long, he had been the most
intelligent man not to lead India, till a lastminute
injury to Ganguly allowed Kumble the
honour for a solitary one-dayer. But getting the
Test captaincy is a different thing altogether,
and it is something every schoolboy dreams
about, however much that sounds like a cliché.
Kumble’s English teacher from school recalls
how he asked his students to write about what
they wanted to be when they grew up, and
laughed it off when Kumble wrote that his
dream was to be captain of India.
“It’s given me a shot in the arm,” Kumble recently
told a television channel when asked
about his appointment. Could the job have
come to him a bit earlier? “When you look
back, yes there were a couple of opportunities
where probably I could have got a chance. But
then I have always said that selection and captaincy
are not in my control. Having said that,
I think it’s come at the right time.”
It’s certainly come at the right time for India,
who recorded their first series win against Pakistan
at home in 27 years and then travelled to
Australia for an assignment that would have
challenged a diplomat, leave alone a cricket
captain. And leadership comes to the fore
under pressure. As the army saying goes, all the
sweat you put in during peacetime means that
much less bloodshed during war. And it was
like a war out there with charges of racism and
biased umpiring flying around amid some truly
boorish behaviour on the field from the world’s
most skilled cricket team. When you consider
who else might have been the Indian captain
handling the show, it’s hard to come up with a
better name. Through it all, he kept his head,
did not utter a spare word nor shrink from
using a strong one when it was called for, and
most importantly, just kept bowling. In some
ways, he was still that little boy who had asked, “Can I bowl spin?” and got the job done. That
perhaps is what Kumble is all about, getting the
job done, no matter what.
Vasu is assistant editor, cricinfo.com
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