The list of Vishy's match-winning and match-saving innings, not necessarily centuries always, is too long to be mentioned here. Like all his aforementioned classics, 124 against the West Indies on a minefield of a wicket at Chennai in 1978-79, 114 against the fearsome Dennis Lillee at Melbourne in 1981 and 107 against England at Delhi in 1981-1982 could never be forgotten.
The last-named was played in grim adversity as he was battling for his own survival in the Indian team thanks to a brief spell of failure by his own high standard. His 107 had all the ingredients of a masterpiece of a painter or a sculptor. Many English players and journalists took Vishy to their hearts with Frank Keating, no less, comparing him with Ranji. Vishy followed it up with 222 in the fifth Test at Chennai.
Being an instinctive batsman who believed in playing positive cricket, Vishy would always go for his shots if he thought that the ball deserved punishment, whether he was on 0 or 99. This explains why he used to lose his wickets in the 30s and 40s when looked set for bigger innings; and also in the 70s and 80s sometimes.
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He was also a genuine, compulsive walker. On quite a few occasions he left the crease, without waiting for the umpire's decision, when he felt he was out. Sometimes he walked even when the opponents were certain he was not out. But he was a thorough gentleman who always believed in playing the game, literally.
Didn't he recall Bob Taylor, after he was heading towards the pavilion on being given out, when he was captaining the Indian team in the Golden Jubilee Test against England in Mumbai in 1980. The wicketkeeper went on to strike a major partnership with Ian Botham, which eventually cost India the Test. But it did not matter. What was important was that the true spirit of the game was upheld.
He was India's most reliable batsman in difficult situations and on bad and often unpredictable, unplayable wickets. But even then he had elevated batting, nay cricket, to an artistic spectacle with his flawless batting and golden touch.
It was the most unkindest (excuse the intended double superlative) cut of all when Vishy was dropped like a tonne of bricks after just one seemingly poor series in Pakistan in 1982-1983. He was in his early 30s when dropped and had still plenty of years of good cricket left in him.
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