Column

It happens so very often in cricket. The “greatest” of one era is nudged aside in public perception by a player from the current game. Statistics play a huge part in this, though serious cricket-lovers try to look beyond bare figures.What was the quality of the bowling?How did the pitch play?How distant or near were the boundaries? Did faulty umpiring play a part?

The obvious temptation following Virender Sehwag’s startling 219 against West Indies at Indore is to install him as the best one-day batsman since the format emerged 41 years ago. There have apparently been 3223 one-day international matches since that first hastily-arranged match between Australia and England at Melbourne in 1970-71, and there have been numerous memorable batting blitzes along the way. One which still seems to stand out beyond the rest was Vivian Richards’s 189 not out for West Indies against England at Old Trafford on May 31, 1984.

It was an astonishing display of batting brutality, rescuing the tourists, who were batting first, from a desperate situation of 102 for seven. Bob Willis, Ian Botham, Neil Foster, Geoff Miller and Derek Pringle were belted all over Manchester, with the West Indies tailenders supporting the murderous “master blaster” Richards. He was 96 when last man Holding loped to the crease.

At the end of the final (55th) over West Indies had smashed their way to 272 for nine, Richards having almost doubled his score.People were talking about this amazing bombardment for days and weeks to come.

I had my own personal discussion with Viv Richards a couple of days afterwards, at a sponsors’ reception. I politely challenged the use of the Rastafarian wristband that he wore on the field, and questioned his obsession with black history and the “sins” of the white man, specifically the colonist. He became exasperated and hinted that our discussion might turn into something physical.

At this point, Bob Willis, who had been hovering nearby, came between us, fortunately for me, since I was appreciably older and less muscular than my fellow debater. Later that week I attended the launch of Richards’s autobiography, and we shook hands, since then I haven’t had the pleasure of speaking to him again — about the weather or anything else.

Any comparison between Sehwag and Richards, therefore, needs to be made on a purely technical basis. I doubt very much that the Indian is motivated by anything other than an agreeable level of Indian pride and his own desire to stay at the pinnacle of the international game. He had a barren spell quite recently against England. And that is what heightens the drama. Was he nearing the end?Was he, by heck!

There’s something endearing about Virender Sehwag — and not least his bald patch, revealed on the rare occasions that he removes his cap to have a bowl. In this age of glamour and “image”, he’s really one of us, isn’t he?There’s no showiness about his batting, no frills. The ball “stays hit”, as the popular expression goes. If he gets out, he shrugs and is soon on his way. This straightforward approach appeals. If there have been displays of prissiness or temper, I haven’t been looking. I watch massive amounts of cricket from around the world — probably far too much, but that’s my preference. Nobody sees everything. What I’ve seen of Sehwag has always left me looking keenly forward to the next time. That, surely, is the mark of a worthwhile cricketer.

I’m not keen on comparisons, largely because they are unprovable, even with the aid of statistics — though they are often utilised as the framework of a persuasive case. Could Sehwag have smashed this 219 off that formidable 1984 West Indies pace attack, for instance?If he had, that would certainly have proclaimed him as one of the very greatest batsmen in history. It must be conceded that this Caribbean line-up is far from impressive.

As it is, with his swag of Test match triple-centuries and double-centuries the chunky Indian opener already occupies a special place in the Hall of Champions, and there are countless people who fervently hope that he will be around for some years to come.

Yet, I notice that he was quoted as saying right after his astonishing 219 that he was “very tired because I’m 33 years old. I’m an old man and my back and glutes (whatever they are) are tight”.

There is an urgent need for somebody to tell old Mr Sehwag that Don Bradman battled on for years, until he was 40, despite the recurring restriction of painful lumbago. Len Hutton did likewise.

The younger Nawab of Pataudi played on with wondrous results after losing an eye.So please, Mr S, hire yourself the best physio in India (or from elsewhere if need be, in this globalised society) and continue to strut your stuff for the good of Indian cricket and mankind in general. And next time you get to 219 with three overs remaining, please don’t throw it away.