As Jesse Ryder and Ross Taylor created an exquisite symphony on the benign track of MacLean Park in Napier and pummelled the Indian bowlers to all corners of the field, it made sense to remember that they have been playing together for a long, long time. Jesse and Ross are both from the Wairarapa region; have been friends since childhood and have been plying their trade together for Napier since their school days. And they had both been earmarked for further glory, right since their teens – though, they have taken diverse routes to the New Zealand senior team – Ross reaching there a couple of years earlier and staying thereafter as the poster boy of Kiwi cricket, while Jesse took a longer route and has been in the news for the wrong reasons more than the good.
Does this schoolboy friendship, dreams of playing for the country together turning into reality, different characters and yet firm friends; ring a bell for us Indians? Indeed, it reminds one of the extraordinary duo of Sachin Tendulkar and Vinod Kambli. And more so, in a very poignant manner for somebody like me, who adored his style; it reminds us of probably, the greatest regret of Indian cricket in the modern era – Vinod Ganpat Kambli.
People, born and bred in the Mecca of Indian cricket – Mumbai – would have heard of Kambli much earlier than the rest of us, in India. A precocious talent since his early teens, he was 17 and Sachin, 16, when they put on a World Record partnership of 664 in a school match in Mumbai. Their fortunes somewhat diverged thereafter – while Sachin went on to make his India debut later in the same year, Kambli trudged on, unrewarded, in the domestic arena till he was called into the senior squad, 3 years after his friend – for the Test series against England in 1993 (he had made his ODI debut earlier – towards the end of 1991). But when he finally did take his place on a Test field, Vinod Ganpat Kambli had the kind of start to his Test career that budding cricketers can only see in their wildest dreams. A half century in his second Test was followed by a double century in the third and this was followed by another double century in his next Test innings. This lifted him among the elite group of Don Bradman and Walter Hammond as the only scorers of two double centuries in successive innings. In fact, his 224 against England came close to upsetting Sunil Gavaskar's then Test record of the highest score by an Indian (236) and involved a marathon 180 run partnership with Sachin Tendulkar for the 3rd wicket.
Anybody who has watched that innings; either live at the Wankhede or on the television would never forget the supreme arrogance with which Kambli treated bowlers of the likes of Phil DeFreitas and John Emburey. Many would later say that this flamboyance would be his undoing, but when he was on song, Kambli could give even the likes of Sir Viv Richards or Brian Lara, a run for their money. Those twinkle-toed dances down the track to send the balls disappearing above the spinners' heads into the stands were simply breath-taking, as was the chewing gum nonchalance, which he had undoubtedly copied from the Caribbean maestros. Much before Sachin would torment Shane Warne in Sharjah, in the late nineties, Vinod Kambli would bludgeon him for 22 runs in an over in an ODI. In many ways, Vinod Kambli was more West Indies than west Indian J
Unfortunately, just as his rise was meteoric (4 centuries in his first 7 Test Innings), his fall was spectacular and sudden. He had always seemed a little suspect against quality pace and his flash to gully against anything aimed at his ribs proved to be his downfall. The West Indians led by Courtney Walsh had the measure of him in the 1994 – 95 Test series at home. The runs dried up but more devastatingly for Kambli, the swagger deserted him and his confidence was battered. He was never the same again and he would play just one more Test series before being dumped forever from the Test scene before he was even 24 years old. Rahul Dravid and Sourav Ganguly emerged the next year to take away his middle-order position and though a series of comebacks to the ODI side happened right till 2000, Kambli had already been branded a 'had-been'. He made the news for all the wrong reasons – his razzmatazz lifestyle, flings with Bollywood beauties, his own acting aspirations, flashy clothes, missed practice and injuries – and soon, Kambli disappeared from even first class and Ranji games.
If you look back at his statistics, his average of more than 50 in Tests with 4 centuries and close to 3,000 runs in ODIs would be far more favourable than many international cricketers. But if you take a closer look at his first-class statistics – close to 10,000 runs @ an average of 60 with 35 centuries and then look at Sachin Tendulkar and see, how he has carried on for what seems like forever – it is then that you can't help but shake your head at Kambli's career and wonder, what could have been.
Perhaps, that infamous World Cup semi-final vs. Sri Lanka at the Eden Gardens in 1996, when he unashamedly shed tears, summarises his career, the best.
