This post by the author was published in Cricketcountry on 10.3.2012 - the day following Rahul Dravid's retirement
The last vestiges of hope disappear
As he appeared, dapper and dignified as ever, many clutched on to the faintly-flickering wish that it was not what it was touted to be.
Indian cricket after all is one of the loudest and most confusing arenas of the world. A variety of voices, from the immensely-respected to the eminently-negligible, each louder than the next, join together into a discordant crescendo, drowning the sweet sound of the willow striking the leather, of the ball thudding into the gloves of the keeper, and the last murmurs of reason, logic and decency.
In such a world, was it not greatly probable that Rahul Dravid was there to speak about something else? With Greg Chappell, the Indian Premier League (IPL), eight consecutive overseas defeats, form and fielding of the seniors, Sachin Tendulkar’s 100th international century, acerbic aspersions about his own guts, and so on ... surely there were plenty of things that could be discussed without broaching on the unthinkable.
However, one look at the man and it was certain that all the fears would come true. Not that his expression struck one as forlorn, nor did his manner betray emotions. He was as poker faced as he used to be while standing in the slips. It was just that the face in question belonged to Rahul Dravid. The quintessential cricketer whose focus on the purest ideal of the game never flinched because of the chaotic din that surrounded him.
A sum total of 13,288 runs in Test cricket, 36 centuries and 210 catches would not propel him to call a press conference to air his views on the game and the plethora of peripherals that currently surround it.
He would always allow his bat to do all the talking, unless the very subject of discourse by definition made it impossible.
And when he started to speak, the last vestiges of hope disappeared. There was no foreword, preface or prologue – none of the never-ending previews the world of cricket has become so used to. He started off by declaring that he was retiring from all forms of the game.
For a generation of followers who have lived and breathed cricket, it was like suddenly losing a lung.
Straight bat overcomes doubtful moments
There had been plenty of apprehensions that come naturally to those who get tied into knots trying to follow the peculiar, serpentine ways of Indian cricket.
Was it a personal decision? Or was it ignominy thrust upon him by some cricket illiterate honchos of the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI)?
