Sunny side up: An ode to evergreen Gavaskar
kolkata: Imagine the bustling throng at Queen’s Park Oval, the sun casting a golden light over the cricketing coliseum where passion and performance intertwine. The drums of the Caribbean resound like thunderclaps, and the intoxicating rhythm of Calypso music vibrates through the air. As the crowd erupts in fervent cheer, the atmosphere crackles with a palpable energy, charged with the history of unequal rivalries. In the midst of this vibrant chaos, the legendary West Indies fast bowlers — the fearsome foursome: Colin Croft, Andy Roberts, Michael Holding, and Joel Garner — make their way to the crease, firing from all angles... giants, towering and intimidating, their very presence tea leaves that threaten a brewing tempest on the pitch.
But standing his ground, unwavering as an ancient oak amidst the storm, is a man of 5.4 feet — a beacon of determination and grace. A white hat perched atop his head, a smile that radiates warmth, and eyes that burn with focus. Sunil Gavaskar, the little master.
As the first ball thunders down from Holding’s hand, an anxious hush blankets the crowd, eager to witness the unfolding spectacle. With his flawless technique, Gavaskar greeted the delivery with an impeccable defence. The raucous crowd gasps and holds its breath as Gavaskar, undeterred, ducks and weaves through bouncers and threats, each ball a challenge he meets with a resolve that sways hearts and commands respect. In a world where his fellow Indian batsmen tumble like bowling pins, succumbing to the twin forces of fear and brawn, he stands resolute — a gladiator within a cricketing arena.
As I reminisce about those moments, I picture myself perched in front of our ancient Telerama B/W TV, absorbed in the dramatic chapters of cricket history. Those were simpler times, untouched by the complex web of social media and commercialism that envelops the sport today.
The raw passion for cricket thrummed through the veins of a nation untainted by the pressures of publicity and marketability. Gavaskar was more than just a player; he was a hero to countless children, a symbol of hope, and a source of inspiration.
Fast forward to 2025, I am watching a very different scene unfold in Dubai. The little master, now 75, is dancing with child-like exuberance, celebrating India’s triumph over New Zealand in the Champions Trophy final—a moment that crackles with elation. It seems the years have melted away, and before me stands the same man who so profoundly impacted countless childhoods, including my own.
His joyful dance, oblivious to the lenses that capture his every move, echoes the authenticity and pure love for the game that shaped his era.
It pulls me back to those evenings spent gathered around the screen, cheering for the man who crossed the boundaries of sportsmanship and endeared himself to millions. He was not just a cricketer; he was a storyteller weaving tales of bravery and mastery on the pitch, a pioneer who laid the groundwork for a generation of cricketers who would step into the limelight long after he
had retired. Gavaskar transcends mere recognition in the history of cricket; he embodies a profound emotion. He is the cherished wall poster, a vibrant piece cut from the pages of Sports World magazine, that adorned the rooms of many.
