Rahul Dravid: The Reluctant Legend

When we recollect Mahatma Gandhi, we know that he epitomised certain qualities that stirred the world. But when such qualities are brought onto sport and especially cricket, no one is quite sure what is bound to happen. That said, there is, or rather there was, a man who made wonders on the cricketing field by adopting the Gandhian way of non-violence. People might think it to be a vague analogy of Gandhi’s qualities in cricket but when they realise that it’s actually about Rahul Dravid, this actually suits.

It’s not exaggeration but out of pure admiration that I’m forced to make this comparison. When we look at the way this man has conducted himself on and off the field, there is a sense of purity and sanity in our hearts towards cricket. There is a saying, “The only real elegance is in the mind; if you’ve got that, the rest really comes from it.”

Rahul Dravid has really been the epitome of elegance in world cricket. Leave alone his batting; his demeanour commands respect from even his opponents and people invariably tend to respect him without their knowledge. Pure cricket lovers know that players like Dravid are hard to find and there is only one Dravid. Brett Lee was once quoted as saying, “If you can’t get along with Dravid, you’re struggling in life.” This pretty much sums up what Dravid meant to world cricket and he led by the name of cricket being the gentlemen’s game. Aggression goes a long way beyond fist-pumps and spats – it’s in making the opponents fear you and respect you on the field, and Dravid has been the best aggressor in that aspect.

People often think that Dravid’s career was overshadowed by that of Tendulkar’s. But Dravid has a carved a niche of his own and has always remained the central figure of Indian batting since his arrival in 1995. Test cricket is not what we think, not what people think, but the way Dravid thinks. Indians are passionate towards the game but they fail to understand the essence of what passion is actually about. In a group of 10 watching a cricket match, I used to hear at least 8 of them lambasting Dravid and his batting style, claiming him to be a bore to watch.

Such comments often make me wonder what people in India see cricket as. Patience is not an easy thing to possess, especially on a cricket field, and to the awe of world cricket nobody could crack the code that made Dravid incredibly patient and his concentration levels extremely high. Cricket is like a game of chess – wait till the moment to make the right move. And Dravid did that to perfection till his last game in an Indian white kit. People who criticise Dravid for his limited overs mettle haven’t really seen him play. He loves this sport and whatever be the role given, he has always fulfilled it in the best possible way.

The sacrifices he made for the team were never noticed but he didn’t ask for one. He kept on with them as he saw those as his duties to the Indian cricket team. He is claimed to be the bridge among Indian cricketers within the team and rightly so. The man was extremely proud about representing his country and made himself look ugly for the team to look good. As Harsha Bhogle put it, “He was the wolf who lived for the pack“.

I haven’t mentioned about his batting prowess yet but still find plenty other reasons for him to be the best cricketer India has ever had, in my opinion. Being an all-rounder doesn’t necessarily mean you have to bat and bowl; for Dravid, it meant mastering the physical, mental and ethical aspects of cricket, and for sure he has mastered it better than anyone could actually imagine.

He recently played his last match for Rajasthan Royals and he must have thanked God for Tendulkar doing the same. All of the focus shifted on to Sachin’s retirement and once again Rahul felt at home in taking the back seat, as he has always done. His contribution to Indian cricket is still vastly unknown and he is never going to complain, as he was the man who always put the team before self. And when he walked out for the last time, people didn’t acknowledge him by weeping nor by holding banners. They just stood up and applauded, and that was the perfect way to send him off. He didn’t say anything; we didn’t want to know how he felt. When he walked out of the field, we knew this was the last time we felt elegance and grace on a cricketing field from one of the finest men to have played the game.