B.S.NAGARAJ writes from New Delhi: Once upon a time, in the year of the lord 1975, as part of their Noorondu Ganesha (Ganesha 101) peregrination, two little boys ventured into a house in Rajajinagar in Bangalore, asking: “Ree, Ganapati koorsideera? (Are you celebrating Ganesha Habba?)”
“Howdu, banni,” said the lady of the house and let them in.
After a perfunctory dive at the feet of the elephant-faced deity, the boys looked around furtively and finally one of them made brave to ask: “Auntie, Vishwanath idhara?”
At which the lady burst out laughing: “Oh, adhakka bandhirodhu neevu… (Is that why you have come?)”
One of the two boys was me and my idol, Gundappa Ranganath Vishwanath, was not at home.
How disappointing!
Vishy’s mother was, however, kind enough to let us see all the medals and trophies he had won. And that was indeed my sweetest “habba”. That is perhaps the only time I may have invoked God to attain my goal.
Venka and I discussed our secret adventure on that Ganesha habba day for months after that. Very often it would be centered around the great counterfactual question: What if?
“What if Vishwanath had been at home?”
***
There were hundreds of others in school and in our locality who were die-hard Vishy fans, but with one brief adventure we had stolen a headstart over all of them. But it was not all hunky-dory.
Vishy’s fans were invariably pitted against another group—though not numerically as strong—which idolised Sunil Gavaskar.
The verbal duels sometimes used to terminate in fisticuffs.
Each of us knew that both Vishy and Sunny were cricketers of great stature, but never admitted it openly. “Sumne kut-thane, batting kayithane, (he just potters around, wants to hog the strike)” we would say of Gavaskar, while they would retort, “all style, no runs” about our idol.
Vishy’s trademark squarecuts became a mantra of sorts for me to hold my own against my idol’s critics. But sometimes the tables were turned on me…
I could not understand why others in the family failed to see his prowess, when they teased me about his “stylish 16’ or whatever low-score he had been unfortunate enough to come up with in a match.
I would retire hurt and angry with the world.
I realise now, they were only pulling my leg for being such a fierce and ardent fan.
I was only 12 then, but old enough to catch a BTS bus from Rajajinagar to the Chinnaswamy stadium (or KSCA stadium as it used to be called then) to watch day 4 and day 5 of the first-ever Test that was played in Bangalore in 1974.
Season tickets were prohibitive but a miracle happened.
My school, Carmel School in Rajajinagar, announced that it would show the telecast of the match in school. Of course there was no TV then–it was some sort of a trial—I can’t remember exactly.
A black and white TV had been installed. The ticket for all five days of telecast was just Rs 5. Of course I bought it. Not just me, my mother, sisters, cousins and uncles watched the match by turns.
In fact, every kid’s parents turned up in school to watch the match.
The only match involving an international side that I had watched—only for a few hours—before this was a three-day match between England and South Zone at the Central College grounds.
***
As I entered high school and then college, visits to the Chinnaswamy stadium increased. Not just to watch the Ranji matches and the Tests, but even league cricket matches.
First division league teams had a generous sprinkling of Ranji and Test stars and included the likes of Vishy, B.S. Chandrashekar, Syed Kirmani, Roger Binny, B. Raghunath, Sudhakar Rao, et al. The league had excellent cricketers who played for teams like BUCC, FUCC, SBI, SBM and Syndicate Bank.
Entry to these matches was free and it was here that I got to watch the stars in action and from the pavilion stands!
On one such occasion, my friend Ramesh (he is no more now) and I spotted a lonely figure in the stand next to the pavilion. There was not a single soul around except for the three of us.
After a second glance, both of us turned to each other excitedly and asked: “Isn’t that Gavaskar?”
He had very recently scored his 29th century and equaled Sir Don Bradman’s world record.
We gingerly approached Sunny and when he acknowledged our presence, we engaged him in a brief conversation. I remember congratulating him on his record. I asked him why he was watching a club match. He said he had come to the KSCA on some work and had stopped for a while.
For us, it was a golden moment.
In those times, these club matches were a great draw with the crowd sometimes in hundreds. We would first check out the car park to see if Vishy’s Fiat was there. And if the Fiat with “Vishy” in gold metallic lettering stood, our excitement would soar.
We would also gape at the car for a while with admiration, supposedly a ‘gift’ from his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Sunil Gavaskar.
Ah, those were the times when every square cut, googly, catch and stumping was analysed, eulogized or thrashed, with match and date etched in memory.
I remember our hushed discussions, where each tried to outdo the other with precious trivia: “Vishy and Sunny do not buy their bat from here and there. The makers of SS Jumbo make it for them as per their specifications.”
Then there was that Test match in 1978 with the West Indies in that six-match boring series—most of the Windies stars like Sir Viv Richards, Andy Roberts and Clive Lloyd, were away playing the rebel Packer league in Australia.
It was at this time that Vishy’s Rajajinagar ground floor house had added another floor. Friends who stayed close to his house came up with the “fact” that Vishy had hosted a party on the newly constructed first floor for the two teams and that it had gone on till early in the morning.
I have stood gazing at the coveted first floor of the house imagining the presence of Vishy, Sunny and all the others.
***
Watching the stars in flesh and blood in the stadium was no doubt a different experience altogether. I used to set out with a plastic wire butti–one dabba chitranna, and one dabba mosaranna—packed in it.
The hostile bag-handle invariably cut into my fingers and wishing to keep my burden light, I rejected the water bottle telling my worried Mom: “Alle kuditheeni (I’ll drink there itself).”
Except that I sat glued to the hot (uncovered) gallery space all through the day. Leaving the perch for a sip of water was too risky. What if someone else took my vantage position?
As the sun beat down on me, I would gobble up the food and relax in a semi-sleepy state during lunch time—my throat parched after keeping up the chant, “Vishwa, Vishwa” all morning.
As young boys with sharp ears, we were some times privy to conversations on the ground. That was the time when cricket clothing was giving way to the new, from the classic creamish-white flannel.
Trousers with an elastic waistbands were beginning to be used.
I remember Vishy telling a teammate, “Eethara pant haako,” pulling the pant back and forth from his midriff to demonstrate the comfort.
Another memory, somewhat painful, is that of my hero losing form.
There was a lot of loose talk in the late seventies about Vishy’s drinking excesses. The discussion in the katte was how Vishy used to drive to the Golden Gate Bar near the ESI hospital, Rajajinagar and stack up the car’s rear seat with bottles.
Of course, I did not believe a word of it.
This became a stick in the hands of Sunny fans, led by Ashok Kulkarni, my friend from Nijalingappa College, to beat us with.
Our revenge came with that infamous episode when Gavaskar batted left-handed in a display of an extremely poor gamesmanship in a Ranji Trophy semi-final between Karnataka and Bombay.
Yes, we hung on to every word, spoken and printed, about cricket. So did thousands of boys my age.
A scrap-book that drew heavily from Sportstar and Sportsworld centrespreads was every boy’s passion. We took pains to locate an “SW-3” transistor (short wave radio with three bands) to hear commentaries of matches played in Australia and sat up all night to listen to those of matches played in the West Indies (Tony Cozier was a great favourite).
Those were the days when people literally walked miles for the game. In 1978, I emerged from the Chinnaswamy stadium on the fourth day of the India-West Indies test to learn that Indira Gandhi had been arrested in the afternoon, even while the match was on.
There had been some stone-pelting and violence outside and prohibitory orders had been clamped.
A direct bus from Shivajinagar to Vijayanagar where we had shifted to from Rajajinagar was available only once in two hours, even in normal times. I quietly joined the sea of people making its way home through Cubbon Park to my reach my home, a good 10 km away, savouring the memories of the day’s game, even if the cricket that was played was not the best by any measure.
The last day of that match, if my memory serves me right, was called off.
Today, several years later I wonder if boys go visiting homes to see “Noorondu Ganeshas”—going around to get the darshan of 101 Ganesha idols. I consider myself lucky to have done so in my childhood, if not for anything but only to enter the sanctum sanctorum of one of my all-time favourite cricket idols.
Also read: From Bhadravathi, the Bhimsen Joshi of cricket
The man who inspired the finest English passage on Karnataka
B.S Chandrashekar on Gundappa Vishwanath
Sunil Gavaskar: the most petulant cricketer ever?
Sunaad Raghuram: Once upon a time, on the other side of midnight
Wow, thanks for such an interesting nostalgic article. It opened up my own memories of having seen my idols (the same Vishvanath, Gavaskar, Vengsarkar and others playing Ranji Trophy matches near Crawford Hall playground in Mysore (Vengsarkar was then keeping the wickets!).
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I chanced upon this blog & I must say I am not at all disappointed. The passion with which you’ve worded this blog is amazing. The nostalgia, memories & the likeness to the game is dripping in this blog. Loved it at a lot & I’m an instant fan now :).
“Ganesha Koodsideera”… ee maatanna keLi yeshto varsha aitu!
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This article brought back several memories. One remembers walking past Vishy’s house several times as a school kid. In the mid to late seventies, the Karanataka team won the Rani Trophy several times and boasted of quite a few Test players and this had spawned an increased interest in local cricket.
Like Nagaraj mentions, in those days all kinds of matches would attract sizeable crowds as well known players would participate in them. There was once a Mysore vs Bangalore match which had several Test stars. For test matches we would have relatives from other towns camping at our place and making the early trip to KSCA.
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Well composed!! Coming from National High School & College (’69 to ’74) and watching Vishy in City Cricketer nets, everything fits the picture pretty good! In those days just listening to the runnng commentary from a HUGE radio was a big deal, let alone having a transistor and that too in a class room last bench!! Going to a cricket match was like ultimate dream come true! Having said this, changing gears, often these thoughts cross my mind – “What would the likes of Vishy et al do with the current cricket gears, like for example the ‘bats’ mostly? How would they perform in T-20s? Could any bowler stop them in ODIs when they are in full flow? and so on.” If I may say so, from the “kannada” used in the narration, the author B.S.Nagaraj kind of sounds like an Alumni from the National HS ? college??
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A brilliant, evocative article. Made me chuckle every couple of lines… Thanks for tha, Nagaraj.
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Nagaraj,
I really broke into tears when I read your article !! It just was a replica of my own experience growing up having Vishy in the neighbourhood !! How similar we are and so are many others in the vicinity of 3rd block Rajajinagar !! I must say we were all passionate people and not the ones to just keep quiet !! As a child I remember sitting opposite his house on a “tyre” that I used to take along with a stick !! I used to wait for hours to get a darshan. Vishy ( GRV ) used to drive a Vespa scooter then. And yes, I also have tried the “Ganesh ittideera” trick to enter his house !! Once his wife Kavitha was in the house and she had welcomed us into the house to have a darshan of Ganesha.
I remember him asking us “ishtondu autograph togondu yen maadtiroo” He used to recognize our gang as frequenters for autograph. I am not sure if we will ever love/admire anybody ever again the way we did with GRV !!
Nagaraj, I too went through similar emotions about Vishy and would take it personal if anyone spoke against him. You are right about the 1978 series, it was the Kallicharan’s WI team, and what would have been an exciting 5th days play was called off.
I still live in in the same house in Rajajinagara and still have a old photograph of Vishy flicking a ball to the boundary stuck on my old almirah door. Further, I have named my son “Vishal” with a Vish in it !! Even today when I pass in front of his house….I momentarily and fondly remember the glorious past and imagine myself sitting and gazing for a view of the little master !! If I have to single out the most joyful moment….it would be the century ( think it was 108 runs ) that he scored against Lilee and Pascoe in Melbourne in 1981 on the opening day and India went on to win the test !!
Any you have mentioned about Tony Cozier !! What a voice !! He was best on radio and I guess he never made it to India again for Radio after the 1974-75 series. But it was a joy hearing him on Radio Australia ( covering the 75-76 Australia – WI series which Aus won 5-1 ). A heady combination of Tony Cozier with expert comments from Lindsay Hasset was memorable….
Good luck to you Nagaraj !!
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http://mycricketmemoirs.blogspot.com/2007/11/famous-cricketers-visiting-us.html
Vishy… he had visited our home… have briefed it in my blog. When he was past his prime, or so the national selectors felt, I had the opportunity to bowl only two balls at him in league cricket in 1988. The first was a perfect defence and I could see the ball hitting the sweet spot back to me and to the second one, he had no answer as his off stump was bent back by a leg cutter which remains the best that went out of my hand till date!
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I return to add that one late cut of his still springs up in my memory. Before I started playing cricket, I was watching a league match between his bank and Ideal Jawa at Maharaja’s College Cricket Ground in Mysore standing outside the third man boundary. I don’t know who the bowler was. His late cut just raced towards me as the fieldsman chased in vain – the ball seemed to gather pace! Such was his timing that the ‘keeper almost felt the ball in his gloves when his bat did the work at that last split second!! Such a master he was!
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what a write up! lovely! it brought back all those wonderful cricket memories of 70s. i remember arguing with frends how vishys centuries mostly resulted in indian test wins, while sunnys were mostly in drawn tests.we also used to be down when vishy was out early, but get on with following the commentary n grudginly appreciate sunny, as he usually used to be still around with his TUKKU TUKKU batting n save india as aslo the moods of thousands of yongsters for the day.at bellary we used to go(run) early to newspaper shop on the day the illustrated weekly criketspecial was to arrive n enjoy those lovely colourphotos. thanks to mr.nagaraj for bringing back all those nostalgic moments.Let us all stand up n clap for both sunny n vishy for scoring 60 in life n wish them to score 100 together.
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lovely! it brought back all those wonderful cricket memories of 70s. i remember arguing with frends how vishys centuries mostly resulted in indian test wins, while sunnys were mostly in drawn tests.we also used to be down when vishy was out early, but get on with following the commentary n grudginly appreciate sunny, as he usually used to be still around with his TUKKU TUKKU batting n save india as aslo the moods of thousands of yongsters for the day.At bellary we used to go(run) early to newspaper shop on the day the illustrated weekly criketspecial was to arrive n enjoy those lovely colourphotos. thanks to mr.nagaraj for bringing back all those nostalgic moments.Let us all stand up n clap for both sunny n vishy for scoring 60 in life n wish them to score 100 together.
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wonderful, and a great feeling after reading
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Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I finished reading the article. Thanks Nagaraj. How I wish I could write my all Vishy experience like you do.
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