Bengal were into another Ranji Trophy quarter-final. The year was 1989. This was the golden era of Bengal cricket, when they reached the last four with unrelenting repetitiveness. All the probables went through a few days of rigorous nets, and then a practice match was organised among them. Arun Lal, the senior pro, had a look at both the teams, and suggested that Sourav Ganguly, who wasn’t a part of the probables, be given a go. Who? Why? Not many had heard of him. He had made a big impact in age-group cricket for Bengal, and was just coming off a hundred for India U-19 against a very strong Pakistan U-19 team in Mumbai.
Arun Lal’s point was a simple one. He felt that someone who could get a junior India Test hundred should be given a go. He made sure Sourav was fitted into one of the teams and when Arun Lal spoke, Bengal cricket listened. We were in the same team, and I was slated to bat at No. 3. Sourav was at No. 4. I had made my debut for Bengal and East Zone at the time, so was the senior batter among the two, and not just in age. Arun Lal opened with Mintu Das, our wicketkeeper, and I was in after Mintu took a nasty blow on his arm. I must have been on 15 or 17 when Arun Lal got to his 50, and retired. In walked the young Sourav, all of 17, and better known to that point as the younger brother of Snehasish Ganguly, and younger son of Chandi Ganguly, renowned cricket administrator.
The scoreboard read: batter 3: 17, batter 4: 0. The best of Bengal’s bowlers at the time were in operation. Half an hour later, it said: batter 3: 30 batter 4: 25. A little later, it was: batter 3: doesn’t matter, because batter 4: showtime. A hundred off 68 balls was jaw-dropping. I still remember the look on the face of Arup Bhattacharya, the former Rest of India left-arm spinner, as if it happened yesterday. The first ball he bowled landed in the back of the lower tier of the club house, pretty much where the bell is placed now. Phew! The selectors were stunned, the players mesmerised, the captain elated. A new kid had just broken all barriers. How good was he? Straight into the team is where he landed, and the rest as they say is Wikipedia.
Our coaches and senior players at the time knew how special he was. What they now say is that most have not seen the raw Sourav. And I agree wholeheartedly. As you become more famous, you tend to rely on percentage cricket rather than being outrageous. Also with the level getting higher, that is the tried-and-tested path. A Duleep Trophy hundred against the mighty West Zone in a low-scoring game in Guwahati earned him an India call-up. In my humble opinion, it came a tad too early. Although there was no doubt about the immense talent and potential that he had, he wasn’t the finished product yet. The long tour of Australia wasn’t the start young Ganguly had in mind.
It was between this 1991-92 tour and the summer of 1996 in England that Sourav Ganguly the cricketer was polished and made ready. The grind of Ranji, Duleep and Deodhar trophies, the Wills Cup and India A really helped him to learn how to score runs in different conditions against different bowlers. His bowling was something that would always help the team. He had won matches for Bengal with the ball as well. I remember a spell of his against mighty Delhi on a rather benign Feroz Shah Kotla deck where other bowlers struggled. He picked up a five-for with late movement and swing. His development as a cricketer was evident for all of us to see. He was closing in on becoming the finished article. He scored runs when everyone struggled, and made batting look easy. When he batted, the fast bowlers did not look that quick or menacing. That often changed when a single was taken. All in all, his class and quality eclipsed others in the team.
In 1995, three of us – Sourav, Devang Gandhi, who would go on to open for India, and I were playing league cricket in the Middlesex Premier League. We spent all our time together, but played for different teams as only one overseas player was allowed per team. Sourav was on fire. He got hundreds for fun, and became the talk of the league. Exactly a year later, he was in England as part of the Indian team. Devang and I were doing our duty for the clubs as in the previous year. I happened to be there on his debut to watch history being created. Even someone as talented as him had worked fingers to the bone to achieve what dreams are made of. His inning had the flex and fluidity of limb, and the accord of mind and muscle. It wasn’t new to me. I had been at the non-striker’s end, after all, when the 17 year old made that 100 in the practice game. Life had come full circle. Having seen the emergence of this special talent in front of my eyes, and then to see the whole world take notice was undeniably special, to put it mildly.
His game went from strength to strength. Captaincy was something that he took to like fish to water. What made him such a good captain ? Apart from the usual boxes that he ticked, of being smart and ahead of the game, I thought it was his ability to take bold decisions, identify talent and back them that set him apart. He knew the game, he knew what the team required and he went about getting that. As he moved from No. 3 to No. 5 and 6, he sacrificed runs. To this day, I feel he would have scored a lot more runs at an even higher average if he had continued to bat at No. 3. In white-ball cricket, his opening numbers with the great Sachin Tendulkar are simply baffling. How good were those two together?
As he quietly tucks a 51st birthday off his hips, I can say I have been privileged to know this person from very close quarters. The player was a great, but as a person, he superseded that. At the end of the day, players come and players go, but it’s the human touch that stays behind. Long and happy life ahead, my friend. Keep inspiring, keep guiding, keep changing lives.