On March 14 2001, VVS Laxman and Rahul Dravid scripted a tale that will be firmly etched in the heart and minds of Indian cricket lovers. The pair added 335 runs without offering the mighty Australians a single sniff, and taught the Australians that they weren’t going to have it all their own way. And then there is the small matter of forever altering the course of Indian cricket.
Steve Waugh‘s unassailable juggernaut had advanced to the very threshold of the famed ‘final frontier’. The champagne had already been ordered, waiting to be uncorked in an exultant explosion to celebrate an inevitable triumph. A hiding in the first test match in Mumbai and a batting collapse in the first innings at Kolkata gave even the most optimistic of supporters little hope that India would fight back; Yet more than 50,000 supporters turned up, probably expecting the test match to be done and dusted by the end of the day’s play. But what followed was a sight fit for the heavens.
It was a tale of friendship, a tale of belief, a tale of sweat, a tale of hardwork, a tale of hope, and more significantly, a reminder that Sourav Ganguly‘s India were not going to go down without a fight. Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman were not just professional colleagues who shared a dressing room for 15 years – they were the base on which India took baby steps towards success, no step bigger than the magic these two men created at Eden Gardens on this particular day. It was not about the 4065 runs they stitched as a combination, infact Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid were the leading pair with 20 century stands, but the impact that Laxman-Dravid’s 12 century run stands were able to create remains unparalleled and unmatched in the annals of Indian cricket history.
At the start of play on Day 4, the scoreboard read India were 254 for 4, still needing 20 runs to make Australia bat again. It seemed like a question of when rather than if. The last recognised batsmen were at the middle. All that was needed was one wicket, either Dravid or Laxman. The rest of the Indian batting line-up had barely shown enough to suggest they would do anything more than delay the inevitable.
Yes, Laxman had looked in solid touch – caressing the ball with his usual heavenly timing. He was the last batsman to fall in the first innings for a robust 59, and was sent out in No. 3 in the second innings and by the end of the third day, Laxman was battling away on 109. His partner in crime, Dravid was going through a rare woeful patch. The three innings in the series prior to this had yielded a meagre 73 runs, a struggle streching across 407 dreary deliveries. The strike rate of a paltry 17.94 confirmed his lacklustre form. But mathematics, and form, and track record seemed trivial things on a day two men with unquestionable potential chose to rewrite the usual order in cricket.
The formidable bowling attack of Australia which comprised Glenn McGrath, Jason Gillespie, Shane Warne and Michael Kasprowicz, charged in for an fast knockout punch. Barely five overs into the morning, the new ball was taken. Nine overs into the day, the two undeterred batsmen raced the Indian score past the 300 mark. Atleast Australia would be made to bat again! Laxman was batting with an air of invincibility around him – dispatching the loose delivery with disdain, taking audacious liberties with languid ease – his silky touch, glorious footwork and divine wristwork a thrilling sight for the Indian spectators, a source of nightmares for the Australian fielders. Dravid was balancing between extravagant and solid, forcing himself to exercise greater caution against considerable pressure – much of it cultivated by the irrationality of the demanding Indian media. The score read 376 for 4 at lunch. Laxman unassailable on 171. Dravid keeping him company.
The second session saw the duo bat with greater freedom as the runs started to flow. Shane Warne reverted to his usual fourth day ploy of pitching into the rough, and letting his wrists do the talking. But if anybody’s wrists made its presence felt, it was Laxman’s. VVS’s resounding confidence came to the fore when he opted to dance down the track and dispatch deliveries pitched outside the leg-stump through the extra cover region. For the sake of breaking the monotony, Laxman was equally severe on Warney through the on-side, as he sent the ball racing past the mid-wicket region with equal ease. Same result. Only one result infact. Steve Waugh needed a wicket from somewhere. The source didn’t matter. Mark Waugh couldn’t break their rhythm. Ricky Ponting tried, so did Matthew Hayden, but for all his built, taking wickets was something he would suck at even as a night job. Justin Langer, Michael Slater both turned their arm over. Both in vain.
Rahul Dravid soon notched up his century and celebrated with his bat thrust in the direction of the press box. Never have I seen Dravid more animated. Never has that aggression surfaced in the manner that it did. It meant that much, for Dravid’s confidence, and for Indian cricket’s. The two batsmen were batting as if they were in a trance – the Australian bowlers were merely going through the motions towards the end of the day’s play. 90 overs later, 335 runs in the bank, two tired souls trudged off the pitch, possibly unaware of the significance of what they had just achieved. Behind them, 11 tired Aussies seemed bedazzled by the day’s proceedings. The Eden crowd had witnessed something spectacular. Something that may never be repeated in cricket folklore. The score stood at 589 for 4. The lead was 315.
Thanks to Harbhajan Singh‘s heroics on the final day, India clinched the test match by a thumping 171 run margin. The ‘Final Frontier’ had remained unconquered. Indian cricket was never the same again.
