shravi
National Board President
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2005
- Profile Flag
- India
Rahul Dravid's legendary career will be forever etched into the annals of cricketing history. His class was unmatched, his humility unparalleled, his grace unsurpassed, and his selflessness peerless. While he was not as naturally gifted as India's favorite cricketing son, he was blessed with patience and grit. His perseverance and persistence formed the pillar of the batting order and acted as a fulcrum around which the more natural stroke-makers could effervesce. As the bricklayer and pivot, he willingly sacrificed the microphones and cameras for a far more endearing moral high ground of altruism. It is these innate qualities and abilities to put the team ahead of himself that makes him truly great. In his long journey, he scored 13288 runs. I have had the honor of watching a fair few of his 286 innings and seen him meticulously carve and drain the best of bowling attacks as he broke milestone after milestone. However, it is not a century or a fifty will stick with me, but an innings of a paltry thirteen runs at The Oval in 2011.
As the English summer drew to a close, India were seemingly going to new lengths to find the most embarrassing way to lose, going from lethargic ineptitude at Lord's, to incomprehensible self-combustion in Nottingham, to indescribable mediocrity in Birmingham. India were 3-0 down and the only player with his pride intact was Rahul Dravid, and perhaps Praveen Kumar. As England chose to bat, Indian fans were left befuddled as a recently vacationing, and visibly disheveled and overweight RP Singh stumbled in to bowl the first over. As the innings went on, the same old problems resurfaced. There was a distinct lack of motivation, penetration and effort. The ordeal ended 153 overs later with England having amassed 591 runs with consummate ease. As Virender Sehwag and Rahul Dravid strode out to bat, India was left with the monumental task of reducing a mammoth deficit, not having crossed the 300 mark once in six innings thus far. It was soon an all too similar picture as India's top order collapsed in catastrophic fashion. Sehwag, Laxman, Tendulkar, Raina and Dhoni had scored just fifty runs between them. At 137-6, India were staring down the barrel of a calamitous defeat to wrap up a series of abject failure. With no help in sight, The Wall stood tall once again, rising above the ashes of his own teammates, carrying his bat through 94 overs in an unfamiliar opening spot. His brilliant 146* was one of the innings of the summer, and yet painted a picture of frustration and helplessness as it still wasn't enough to avoid a follow on.
Physically drained from carrying his bat and mentally drained by the incompetence that surrounded him, he soon came to the realization that he would have to do it all over again. Gambhir was still injured, Laxman, Dhoni, and Raina couldn't be trusted against the moving ball, and Sachin held too much weight and influence to be coaxed, or rather, forced into opening. Dravid, as ever the sacrificial lamb, raised his unwavering hand once again. At 38, he wasn't exactly a spring chicken, and so finding the willpower and energy to raise his hand was a sign of character. He strode out to do what others were unwilling or not brave enough to do and moreover, did so willingly. He walked out of the pavilion to rapturous applause and a standing ovation as the crowd rose to realize the gravity of what he was doing. There was both awe and surprise painted across the faces of the crowd and viewers as he walked out to open the innings once again. I laughed in total disbelief as I watched my hero walk down the steps ready to do battle again after an energy sapping innings just minutes ago. The series was lost, India was 3-0 down, and trailing by 291 runs. There was very little reason for him to walk out again with such purpose. There was nothing left to fight for. Or so it would seem.
That was the epiphanic moment when it dawned on me what the profusely repeated adage- ?It's not over till the fat lady sings?- truly means. She doesn't sing when the battle is lost on the battleground, but when the battle is lost in the mind. The popular saying that sport is 80% mental isn't a random statistic but one of significance. More than half the battle is in the mind as it is the mind that drives the body. Indolence perpetuates indolence, and in doing so, normalizes mediocrity. Indian mediocrity inadvertently galvanized and inspired English confidence and determination. Three matches in, the wheels were already set in motion for a rising England. However, there was still the slightest bit of pride to play for. It would seem that Dravid was the only one willing to fight for it, or at least the only one capable of salvaging it. And so he did. He scored but thirteen runs but nobody could say he didn't give it his best shot, and at the end of the day, as fans, that's all we ask. We live our dreams vicariously through our cricketers and while their ability may be above our reach, on that day, Dravid provided us with something more tangible- hard work. If his teammates had just an ounce of his character, a shred of his motivation and put in half the effort he did, perhaps India wouldn't have been whitewashed.
Now that he has retired, we are left to contemplate his final salvo- his retirement. Perfectly timed, Dravid didn't play on long enough to overstay his welcome. Sweating with nerves, tearing with nostalgia, but leaving with pride, he relinquished his throne to the next generation of superstars. This was perhaps, his greatest innings of all.
Last edited:
