I WATCHED the recent Ranji Trophy final with great interest, it had all the ingredients that make for good cricket – crowds, a pitch which offered excellent opportunities to the medium fast guys as also the spinners, fabulous batting and the piece de resistance; a tight finish. The victor coming through by a mere six runs. Most importantly, credit to the Mysore groundsman for not preparing a typical Indian ‘patta’ wicket where the match is decided on the basis of the first innings lead. The birth of a new batting star – Maneesh Pandey – whose attacking, unorthodox and devil may care attitude while batting was like a breath of fresh air.
But then wait… there was a pause in all this positivity. And that pause set me thinking. When I watched Mumbai bat in the two essays, I wondered whatever had happened to the long assembly line of quality batsmen that the city used to throw up with regularity. Middle class Maharashtrian boys who stepped up to the plate and inherited the mantle vacated by another great. Bombay or Mumbai has had this tradition of passing the baton from one generation of great batsman to another. Role models playing a crucial role in this relay. A guru making way for his shishya. More often than not, they were all from simple middle class Maharashtrian homes. As Sanjay Manjrekar, one of the many quality Mumbai batsmen over the years wrote in the foreword to my first book – Gavaskar & Tendulkar: Shaping Indian Cricket’s Destiny – these boys came forward to make their tryst with izzat and shaurat. They sought a better future for themselves through their cricketing prowess.
Nurseries which nurtured Bombay or Mumbai cricket are floundering – schools, collegiate, club and office cricket fashioned on the maidans of the kinetic energised megalopolis which threw up the stars is in the throes of death. The multi layered and multi tiered cricketing conveyor belt has been derailed. Harris and Giles Shield, Kanga League, Purshottam Shield, Police Shield, Talim Shield, Times Shield; names that conjured up imagery of batsmanship is unfortunately sinking. It was actually the Parsis, using their stevedoring contracts who were at the vanguard of the cricketing ethos in the city. They wanted to be the mirror image of the ruling British, so what better way to befriend them than by playing their game – cricket. So, they took the lead in establishing a cricketing culture – Dr Mehellasha Pavri was the progenitor. But it was Lord Harris who as Governor of Bombay in the 1890s really kickstarted the process. Under his influence communal cricket came to be played whereby subsequently the Parsis, Hindus, Muslims joined the Europeans to play in the quadrangular.
What Harris had unleashed was a chain reaction – the Parsis wanted to imitate the British, the Hindus wanted to better the Parsis, the Muslims meanwhile wanted to best all three. And so it carried on till the emergence of two working class cricketers Vijay Manjrekar and Subhash Gupte, both turning out first for Mahim Juveniles and then Shivaji Park Gymkhana. Many factors were at work, the proximity to maidans and educational institutions, a potent combination of aspiration and inspiration, dalliance at an early age with tennis ball cricket in the lanes and gullies around Shivaji Park and Matunga maidan homes to Shivaji Park Gymkhana and Dadar Union. And of course, sons following fathers, nephews following uncles – Manohar Gavaskar and Madhusudan Patil (Sandeep Patil’s were decent club cricketers, Sunny Gavaskar’s uncle ‘Nana Mama’ Madhav Mantri played for India, the fabled Vinoo gave way to Ashok, Atul and Rahul; Vijay Manjrekar was a class act and so was his son Sanjay and so on. In fact, Vijay’s father Laxman was also a cricketer playing for New Hind.
Or look at Chikalwadi, a microcosm of what cricket stood for in those days in Bombay. Chikalwadi near Bhatia Hospital, Bhagirathi building came to symbolise something. Two small boys dreamt the dream – Sunil Gavaskar and Milind Rege along with Sudhir Naik and Sharad Hazare played mock games in the lane below with a portion of a garage door functioning as the wicket. If Gavaskar went on to play for the hallowed Dadar Union, Ajit Wadekar, a reluctant cricketer played for Shivaji Park Gymkhana. Wadekar like many others will tell you that- “Cricket was in my blood, I was born on that soil.” Wadekar idolised Vijay ‘Tatt’ Manjrekar. The Dadar Union-SPG derby or the Ruia vs Siddarth matches used to see crowds throng them. Dilip Sardesai was an outsider who became an insider. He came to Mumbai from Margao in Goa to study at Wilson College. Manjrekar emerged as the first middle class commoner batsman and he was followed by Ajit Wadekar who in turn was followed by Sunil Gavaskar who passed on the baton to Dilip Vengsarkar and Sandeep Patil. They in turn gave way to Sanjay Manjrekar, Sachin Tendulkar, Pravin Amre and Vinod Kambli.
Tendulkar has outlasted all his peers, both from Mumbai and internationally. Cricket as another Bombay great Madhav Apte once told me became a way and means to get a job, an anchor, an element of stability for middle class Maharashtrians. After Tendulkar came Amol Muzumdar, touted as the next big hope for Mumbai cricket. While Muzumdar displayed a voracious appetite for runs in domestic cricket, he never ever got a chance to play for India. Now Muzumdar has deserted Mumbai and plays for Assam in Ranji Trophy. Rohit Sharma is seen as the next big talent from Mumbai, but he is an outsider like Ravi Shastri, not a Maharashtrian. Ajinkya Rahane, Omkar Khanvilkar and Sushant Marathe are seen as the next generation of Mumbai’s ‘Marathi manoos’ batting stars. Will they deliver or will they fade away like Vinayak Mane? Rahane is the most promising of the lot, but can he play for India and follow in the footsteps of Manjrekar, Wadekar, Gavaskar, Vengsarkar, Tendulkar. It is asking for too much. Time will tell.
Mumbai may still win the Ranji Trophy, but it is not the same domineering side that it used to be. A wider dispersal of the game has seen new players emerge from small town India. The flame that has been burnished by the aforementioned legends appears to be dying. Sides used to be terrorised of playing Bombay in the Ranji Trophy. Bhagwatsinghji of Mewar swore that he would vanquish Bombay during those glory days. But despite having a fine all round side, he and Rajasthan tried for years but could never ever repel the marauding Bombay side.
All this despite the presence of Tendulkar, the greatest and most successful role model that young Marathi boys could ask for. This bankruptcy of batting talent is scary. One of the greatest nurseries of Indian batsmanship is in disarray. And there is simply no explanation for it. Vinoo Mankad and Vijay Merchant played a part in coaching and identifying young talent, men like Madhav Mantri at Elphinstone College honed others, Vasu Paranjpe did his bit, even the great Duleepsinghji watched with an eagle eye at CCI nets – that culture and ethos have all but disappeared. Yes Mumbai won the Ranji Trophy again, but it is no longer the breeding ground for great batters. Where will the next great batsman come from? India was blessed with four of them till recently – Tendulkar, Dravid from Karnataka, Laxman from Hyderabad, Ganguly from Bengal. Now there is Virender Sehwag from Delhi along with state mates Gautam Gambhir and emerging star Virat Kohli. Woe betide Mumbai!
