"He's a brilliant guy"

Rohit Brijnath

If you were to collate the words and phrases used to describe Saurav Ganguly recently, they would comprise a useful dictionary of contempt, a compendium of disdain.

They start from arrogant and end at zealot, and in between you'd find lazy, poor role model, haughty, incompetent, conceited, superior, spoilt, uninspiring, undignified, inconsistent.

"He's a brilliant guy" is not something that you'd find in this lexicon, but they are the exact words VVS Laxman, a quiet man of impressive measure, used for his captain two days ago.

Ensconced in his hotel room in Sydney, rehabilitating his knee, Laxman's words (he could have exercised the option to say nothing) reveal starkly the chasm between what the outside world thinks of Ganguly and what his team does (rumour has it that a Board official approached Rahul Dravid the other day and asked, "Are you ready to be captain?".

Laxman will have none of that. The Ganguly he sees is not the limited leader it is now fashionable to portray him as. "The kind of security he (Ganguly) gives you is amazing, and for players that's exactly what you want from your captain. He encourages each and every guy".

He's not willing to leave it that either. "Let me give you an example. Before he got his 100 (in Sri Lanka), Virender (Sehwag) was going through a lean trot and it was Ganguly who pumped him up and kept faith in him and you know what happened. That's a very good quality (in a leader)".

The simple fact that an old affliction ---- players expecting a selectorial execution with every telephone ring --- is finding a cure in a captain's obstinate faith in his players, is remarkable.

But what about Ganguly's foot-stomping and constant semaphoring of disapproval at a dropped catch, a sloppy misfield. Does it bother this team. "Not really", says Laxman. "It gives us an idea of what the captain thinks, right there, he's open, and it's not like it carries on in the dressing room, so that's not a problem at all".

Laxman is equally ebullient about coach John Wright. "The great thing about John is that he's there, helping you whether you're doing well or not. He uses the video computer analysis and if he finds something he calls you and shows you what's wrong. This is very important because small mistakes in technique---whether in the way the bat is coming down or in the initial foot movement --- creep in and you don't notice it, but he does".

Wright's resemblance to a meditative monk is not, it seems, misleading, for Laxman puts down his "temperament" as his "biggest strength". As he explains, "Even if the team is in a bad phase, like in Sri Lanka where we lost the first three games, he's controlled, he talks to us, he peps us up. He's so committed and the way he gives us confidence is unbelievable. He believes this team has the potential to be the best in the world".

Yes, but do they?

Laxman emphatically answers in the positive. "I think this is one of the most talented sides I've played in, and though we're not doing consistently well, we can be the best. The Australia series showed that".

Inconsistent seems a mild description for a team who fluctuates more than Delhi electricity in the summer, caught between the astonishing (Australia series) and the appalling (2nd Test vs Zimbabwe; 1st Test vs Sri Lanka).

But Laxman's acknowledgement of the virtues of his captain and coach suggest that at least stability and leadership and ambition ("we make short and long term plans but that stays within the team") are not as fragile as outsiders suggest, that change by the BCCI (responsible for every victory but obviously not for any defeat) would accomplish little.

Responsibility is a word Laxman understands, for this team's ascension towards greatness requires him, and he knows it, to step forward.

His batting is classical yet inventive, serene yet explosive, thoughtful yet carefree, some parts Indiana, some parts Dr. Jones. But sport is more than an aesthetic experience, and Laxman's recent Test scores ---28, 38, 15, 20 in Zimbabwe--- do his sparkling talent little justice. It is a measure of this man, that when I remark that a fellow player kindly remarked that he is a stroke player but one who needs to find a balance in his shot making, Laxman does not flinch.

"It's a fair comment. I've been playing well, getting 30s and 40s, and its very disappointing I'm not converting. I believe if there's a ball's there to be hit, I go for it, but in Zimbabwe, I got rank short pitched balls, there to be hit, and I had done everything perfectly, hit the ball sweetly, except straight to the fielder".

"Definitely, I want to carry the responsibility. In Hyderabad, in first class cricket, I've always carried the responsibility for the team. I want to do that here".

There is something attractive about Laxman, and it goes beyond a steady modesty and a firmness of character: it is his grace under the spotlight, an ability to keep his ego from stretching his cap, to play an innings where he soared yet thereafter never allowing his feet to leave the ground.

It is evident in the fact that he has two new sponsors (Pepsi, Synergy), and possibly could have more, but says that Sporting Frontiers, the agency who handle him, are not rushing it and that's the way he wants it (and you thought greed was an Indian cricketers prerogative).

And it is evident in a story he tells when I ask, of all the gifts he received, which one does he remember best.

It was not a Hermes tie or Armani suit or car or gold medallion or piece of land or cash award. Instead he talks abut a day when his mothers hospital had a function for Hyderabad's para-Olympians, and he was invited, and Telegu star A Nageshwara Rao, the chief guest, mentioned him in the middle of his speech, and then suddenly unwrapped his shawl and put it around Laxman's shoulders.

Like his fame, he wears it well.

Yesterday's diary: The men in the muddle