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| It isn't easy to decide on the most amazing aspect of Sehwag's achievement. That he has yet to challenge Viv Richards' record 56-ball 100? Or that, even after the 146 in Rajkot he was still averaging 50% fewer in ODIs than Tests? Living proof of sport's glorious unpredictability? Yes. A tonic for all, even in the Age of the Bat? You betcha |
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IT'S A HUGELY COMPETITIVE FIELD. Inside the boundary, the footprints promise to be long and deep. Forenames and nicknames should suffice. The runs and majesty of Brian, Ricky and Sachin; the wickets and sorcery of Murali and Warney; the unflappable constancy of Jacques, Kumar and The Wall; the brutal pace of Brett and Shoaib; MS and Gilly - redefiners of all-roundness; Harby and Swanny - Renaissance Men of finger-spin… what, stop there?
Glenn's immaculate control; Daniel's indomitable wiliness; AB's Velcro hands; Shahid's effervescence; Colly's grit; Shivnarine's cussedness; Vaughany's cover-drive; the exquisite flourishes of VVS; the wristy lustre of Hashim, Mahela and Yousuf; the pioneering audacity of Ajantha, KP and Mr Dilscoop; Shakib - Bangladesh's first world-beater; Freddie - comic-book hero from West to East. Above all tower the munificent, magnificent three.
Bronze goes to Virender Sehwag, the first batsman since Bradman to combine speed and gluttony. Bringing a one-day mindset to the Test crease, he has made outlandishly merry: only man bar Bradman to reach the 290s three times; two of the three quickest triple-hundreds in terms of balls faced; three scores of 250-plus at better than a run a ball; five of the 10 fastest double-tons. Among specialists with 2000 Test runs, he leads on strike rate, at 80.44 runs per 100 balls, with Clem Hill (74.91) a distant second. And still he averages over 54 for India, second only to Len Hutton among openers topping 5500 runs. The solitary consolation for bowlers is that he seldom detains them for longer than two sessions. Still, if any contemporary batsman can outstrip Lara's 400, he can.
It isn't easy to decide on the most amazing aspect of all this. That he has yet to challenge Viv Richards' record 56-ball 100? Or that, even after last week's 146 in Rajkot, he was still averaging 50% fewer in ODIs than Tests? Living proof of sport's glorious unpredictability? Yes. A freak? Time will tell, but quite possibly. A tonic for all, even in the Age of the Bat? You betcha.
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|  Muralitharan: humility, dignity and an unquenchable competitive zeal . | |
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SEPARATING SILVER medallist from gold, however, is the stiffest ask. In one corner bobs Makhaya Ntini: cattleherd turned shining, smiling symbol of the Rainbow Nation. South African cricket's first black icon, and only the third bowler of express pace to play 100 Tests, he may yet supplant Shaun Pollock as his country's greatest wicket-taker in Tests (not bad, given that his modus operandi all but rules out lbws). Imagine predicting that little lot in 1968, or even this time last decade.
He owes plenty to an astonishingly resolute body (Richard Pybus, a former coach, originally suspected he was made of titanium and carbon fibre). No less essential has been the inner strength. To the South African authorities, craving a champion of transformation in an era of quotas, what could have proved more embarrassing than picking someone unworthy? As Michael Atherton reasoned in the Times, that would have been worse than no role model at all. Fortunately - and despite being found guilty, however briefly, of rape - Ntini had the skill, the application and the fortitude to spare blushes.
And then there's The Artist Known As Murali, owner of another pair of staggeringly sturdy shoulders. . Muttiah Muralitharan's entire career, moreover, has been clouded by condemnation, for an action dictated by a deformed elbow yet always approved when scientifically examined. But it's that rubbery right wrist that has propelled him towards 800 Test victims, not a bent arm. That and an unquenchable competitive zeal, even if the only visible hint is that single jagged tooth, lending him the look of a habitually famished shark.
Nobody in cricket history, not even Lalit Modi, has so constantly courted controversy, nor so divided opinion .Through it all, the humility and dignity have dimmed not a watt. Only once, fleetingly, has Murali allowed himself to be provoked into anything even resembling trash talk, and it took that consummate pot-stirrer Warne to do it. Only very recently, in his 38th year, has he failed to meet the colossal standards he has set himself. Only now, with a guarantee-nobody'll beat-'em 61,880 deliveries and 1315 wickets on his international clock, does he finally look vulnerable.
Nuff Respect: that's what Linford Christie, the former Olympic sprint champion and another polariser of public opinion, called his management company. Murali might wish he'd got there first. Has he been given his due? Not yet. Not by half. They may have flattered on occasion, but the stats don't lie. Subtract those 89 cheap-as-chips Bangladeshi wickets and he still averages a Barnesian 5.81 scalps per Test to Warne's 4.88. So long as you accept they were legitimately earned. This laptop's acceptance is wholly unreserved.
An underdog and outsider with a social conscience and magic at his fingertips: no sportsman has ever brought me greater joy. Let's leave it in posterity's capable hands.