The best individual Border-Gavaskar Trophy performance by an Indian in Australia since 2000
Rohit Brijnath18-Nov-202425:34
Exclusive: Rahul Dravid relives his Adelaide epic
An artist’s son produced two innings in Adelaide that should hang on the wall forever. Modern cricket has seen few painters like him. He has a broader brush than most people believe, and his innings are never bursts of colour but of subtle hues. On first look he does not often seem extraordinary, but a closer examination, like during both innings in Adelaide, suggests he is a batter of some beauty.Rahul Dravid’s innings in that Test were both familiar and surprising. On both occasions he was thrust into crisis – in the first, reviving India’s charge after they were 85 for 4 chasing 556; in the second, standing steadfast like Horatius on the bridge as others fell beside him. In runs the first was worth 233, the second 72 not out, but in value it is hard to separate them. Let us just say India would have probably lost without either.Dravid and crisis seem to go together, though he is not merely a batter adept at rescues but a distinguished performer in many situations. Still, in Adelaide, in a Test pivotal to a New India’s reputation, it was a situation he naturally responded to. Among his virtues are courage and commitment, discipline and dedication; India needed those. Replying to Australia’s mammoth total, he produced an innings mostly devoid of blemish and awash with cultured strokeplay. It was a knock of great faith.His patience has always seemed monkish, his concentration pure, but it is harder than it looks. His mind, like everyone else’s, did wander, but he is more gifted at collecting himself, at focusing his thoughts on the task at hand. He is the sort of fellow parents admire, for he is a responsible man.His first innings was all balance and poise, his feet moving in harmony with his mind, messages from the brain not impeded by pressure and trepidation. Balls were carefully scrutinised for line and length, and mostly his judgement was impressive, for errors were punished and good balls stylishly let go. Through 594 minutes he barely hit a wrong note, and it was like watching a classical pianist at the height of his powers.Fittingly, Ajit Agarkar, who took 6 for 41 in Australia’s second innings, was at the other end when Dravid hit the winning runs•William West/AFPDravid owns more shots than people think; he is merely judicious about what to play and when. He cut, pulled, drove, flicked, glanced, and there was scarcely an area of the ground his strokes did not kiss.He said later he had been working on his cover drives; evidently it has been worth it.In a way, they were also innings of some surprise. The hook for six to reach 100, his heart pounding as the ball arced over the fielder at the fence, was incongruous, as in a way was the four he hit off the first ball he faced on the fourth day, from Stuart McGill, to reach his double-century. The previous night he had to deal with hours of the unfortunate reality that although he was on 199, he had only, in cricketing terms, scored a century. It was a predicament swiftly erased the next morning.He also looked up around tea on the third day to find he had outpaced VVS Laxman on the scoreboard, and his delight later was something to see. This player has made a living breaking all manner of stereotypes.His second innings, as India chased 230 for an improbable victory, was less fluent – his rhythm not as pure, the symmetry of his feet and bat not entirely pleasing. It is said in most sports that the mark of a great player is the ability to find a way through, to win even when not everything is going well, and Dravid defined that.He admitted that he had struggled through certain periods, even offering Adam Gilchrist a chance not taken. This was a triumph of mind over body, for Dravid had convinced himself that this time India would not fail, that opportunity would not be squandered. That he hit the winning boundary, and Steve Waugh retrieved the ball from the gutter and handed it to him was fitting.It was a performance that for now at least seems unforgettable. And who knows, years from now, when we are grey and arthritic one morning we might rummage through boxes in the garage and stumble across yellowed clippings of a few days from December 2003. Memory may have died a little, and the details of his innings may have gone fuzzy, but the image of Dravid standing upright in the sunlight like some golden warrior, graceful and unyielding, one hopes, will still be there.
