Wrist Assured review: G. Vishwanath's book is a lovely walk through a bygone era in cricket

G. Vishwnath with Sunil Gavaskar, his brother-in-law and batting partner. (Image copyright: Gundappa Vishwanath; courtesy: Rupa Publications.)

Indian cricket fans of this century will remember the reception that the team got when they came back victorious from the T20 World Cup 2007. A sea of humanity had gathered as the team took a victory parade. That, however, was not the first time this was happening. Not even close. In 1971, when the Indian team returned home having beaten England in England for the first time – having earlier beaten West Indies away too – the reception was equally extraordinary.

“There was pandemonium at the airport, as though the whole of the city that never sleeps had congregated to welcome us back,” writes Gundappa Vishwanath in his autobiography, aptly titled Wrist Assured.

Co-authored by senior cricket writer R. Kaushik, the book is a lovely walk through a bygone era in cricket, one that is increasingly separated from today’s times of three formats, and what seems like 24x7 cricket. For instance, after India’s twin 1971 away triumphs against the West Indies and England, they next played a Test after 16 months. And this in a pre-ODI era.

“We would have liked to play earlier, if only to build on the momentum generated by two series wins overseas, but there was nothing we could do,” writes Vishwanath of that long gap.

It’s a reality that is difficult to wrap your head around, when you’ve got a 16-month period now that encompasses two IPLs, a T20 World Cup, and major Test series home and away, to say nothing of constant limited-overs international matches.

That’s the old-world charm that the book breathes through its pages. It is, however, a charm that exclusively centres on Vishwanath the cricketer. To be fair, that would be charm enough for many, and perhaps that is what the cricketer thought. So we get a rich insight into his cricketing journey: from his magnificent double-century on Ranji debut, to his 0 and 137 on Test debut, to a deep-dive on his famed square cut, his rapport with team-mates, how he watched the 1983 World Cup win as a spectator in England because he was not in the ODI team, and his eventful two-Test captaincy stint. But while Vishwanath the cricketer is splendidly depicted, Vishwanath the man remains an enigma.

The book begins with an endearing and poignant scene of a surprise party for his 70^th birthday, where brother-in-law Sunil Gavaskar played a leading role. But apart from the fact that Gavaskar’s sister is married to Vishwanath – which even today’s generation will probably know – the familial equation between two giants of Indian cricket is left untouched. As is Vishwanath’s life off-field, apart from a delightful chapter on a vacation he was invited to by Tiger Pataudi to Ooty, where he spent all 15 days in Pataudi’s palatial mansion and came back refreshed even though he never actually ‘saw’ Ooty.

Having played for close to 14 years, Vishwanath would have seen his share of dressing room ups and downs, but he remains a good team-mate, and the ‘masala’ that such stories add is left well alone outside off-stump. The only mention of anything unsavoury is when discussing the ‘Summer of 42’, where India were bowled out for 42 during their 1974 tour of England. There’s sideways criticism of the Board for Control of Cricket in India for agreeing to a rule-change that hampered India’s renowned spinners, and a fleeting mention of “tensions between senior player that started in the dressing room and spilled over to the field, or vice versa”, but that’s about it.

The portrait that is painted, though, is eminently readable. There is gentle, self-deprecating humour sprinkled throughout, an endearing acknowledgement of his embracing celebrity almost shyly but still finding joy in it, and a sense of wonder and love for the game that clearly still goes strong.

The cricketers who loom strongest in the book are Pataudi and Gavaskar. The former, Vishwanath’s first captain, the latter, his batting and familial brother. Pataudi’s unstinted backing not only helped Vishwanath break into the team, it also helped him shrug a first-innings duck aside to hit a second-innings century – something Pataudi predicted when he saw the young debutant disconsolate after his zero. It was Pataudi who told Vishwanath to lift buckets of water to strengthen his wrists and arms, because the inquiry about whether he went to the gym drew a mumbled negative. The admiration for Gavaskar’s batting is unabashed and pure. Vishwanath describes several of Gavaskar’s masterpieces watched from up close, and marvels at the purity of technique on show. Other famous contemporaries as well as some not-so-famous but those dear to Vishwanath personally also find generous mention in the book.

Overall, if you are a student of cricket or a lover of the game, this would be a great addition to your library.

G. Vishwnath with Kapil Dev. (Image copyright: Gundappa Vishwanath; courtesy: Rupa Publications.)