Ranji’s Strange Behaviour

Ranji never played a Christian stroke in his life. So said Neville Cardus. True it was. The Indian prince’s batsmanship had all the charms of Oriental mysticism. The bat was his wand as he mesmerized England, both spectators and oppositions, with his wristy elegance.

At a time when the top batters would play the ball mainly to the off-side as the ‘Champion’ WG Grace would do with his customary mastery, the graceful, lissome figure would gently caress the ball from outside the off-stump to the untenanted areas on the leg-side. It was magical.

How did he do it with a perpendicular-held bat? With a cross bat, we understand. But how with a bat held straight? He was the first to use the pace of the ball to glance it between the fine-leg and square-leg regions. The fluidity of his steely wrists gave the art of batsmanship a new dimension.

Mustachioed and ebony of complexion, the traits of his race were distinctly apparent in this conjuror’s every step. Medium of height, shining black hair thinning on the temples the man looked every inch an Oriental. Yet he was giving the white man a lesson in effortless stroke execution at the white man’s own sport. Who is he? What are his antecedents? How is he lighting up our grey skies with his golden streak? These were the queries in the minds of cricket followers from Yorkshire to Sussex.

Kumar Shri Ranjitsinhji was the adopted son of the raja of Nawanagar, who had no male heir to his throne. Following the best possible education on offer in India, Ranji went to England for further studies with his school headmaster in tow. Cambridge was the university chosen.

The climate and the food disagreed with the prince brought up in India. He was overwhelmed by the liberal western culture that he daily encountered. Perplexed he was by the differences. After the initial hiccups, he however found his métier in the game of cricket. He had played a little at school in India but in England in the game of cricket he found an ideal escape route from the dreary routine of social life.

His soft features belied his determination. He spent hours practicing at the nets. The young prince went for the trials of the Cambridge University cricket team. But returned disappointed as cricketers superior in ability got the nod ahead of him. He realized that he would have to work really hard if he wanted to be in the first XI. And that is exactly what he did.

He appointed professional coaches, who would bowl to him for hours against payment. Never tried to copy WG Grace or Arthur Shrewsbury, the role models at the time. Very sensibly he developed a distinctive style of his own. He did not go for power; he went for precision. He used his wrists more than he used his forearms. While others tried to play on the off side, he preferred to play on the leg side. He picked up the tenets of back-foot play from WG but avoided the cross-batted shots.

 Ranji’s mastery was quickly fathomed, selected for Cambridge, invited to play for Sussex and finally for England in the Manchester Test in 1896 against Australia. He began his Test career with a century for England against Australia. He sent spectators and the media into raptures. They were amazed to see the man’s effortless mastery over pace and spin. No conditions would upset him. No opposition would overawe him.

He was majestic in whatever he did. He had all the Oriental flavor of mysticism around him. Silk shirt fluttering in the breeze, he gave the impression of effortless ease. His strokes conveyed the essence and not the effort. He strode supreme and earned universal admiration. Ranjitsinhji, who later became the Jamsahib of Nawanagar, was popularly known as ‘Smith’ during his Cambridge University days.

Unfortunately for Indian cricket, Ranji had no time for his motherland. He had a very poor opinion of Indian cricket and Indian cricketers. He played a few matches in India but never showed any interest in promoting the game here. At Eden Gardens he once played a match as well as another at Natore Park in the Picnic Garden district of Ballygunge. Even the grand exploits on English soil of Mehellasha Pavri and Palvankar Balloo, who were so highly rated by discerning British critics, did not quite wake up Ranji from his stupor.

He seemed quite oblivious to the progress that was happening in India. In fact the magnificent all-rounder Amar Singh Ladla was from Nawanagar, Ranji’s own territory, yet the grand ol’ man never offered even any words of encouragement to him. Ranji’s strange behaviour in relation to Indian cricket defied all logic. Why was the great cricketer so adamant in his opposition to the march of Indian cricket? No one will ever know.

When Ranjitsinhji’s nephew, Duleepsinhji – another outstanding batsman – was invited to play for India in 1932, it was reported that Ranji flatly refused to give permission by saying that Duleep would not play as he was an English test cricketer!

 Yes, Duleepsinhji made his debut for England against South Africa in 1929 and later scored a century against Australia at Lord’s the following summer.  He could have easily served his motherland in India’s early days at test cricket in the 1930s. But he had no desire to defy the dictates of his stern uncle, whom he obviously idolized.

When the inauguration of the national championship was being discussed at the BCCI meeting, the Maharaja of Patiala Bhupendrasingh announced that he would donate the trophy and the trophy would be named after Ranjitsinhji, who had just expired. The magnanimity of Patiala and the BCCI members of the time need to be acknowledged.

 It was indeed a grand gesture to honour the magnificent batsman who first put India on the world cricket map. It was also ironical that a man who never encouraged Indian cricket or Indian cricketers would be given the highest possible acclaim. Strange are the ways of Indian cricket. Stranger still was the conduct of Ranji. Why was he against Indian cricket will never be fathomed.