Vijay Laxman Manjrekar

 

Vijay Manjrekar was an artist’s delight; so was he of the artisan's. He blended the creativity of the artist to the craftsmanship of the artisan. At 18 he made his first appearance in first-class cricket for Bombay.

 

Immediately the connoisseurs of the game detected the class of his batsmanship. Modelled on classical lines: precision of footwork and economy of movement gave him the rare virtues of balance and timing. Even in defence, he exhibited grace and nonchalance.

 

But what of his temperament ? He was yet to notch a single first-class century prior to his call for Test debut at the Eden Gardens but had given enough indications of his unmatched potential. None questioned his undoubted technical excellence. But, rightly so, some doubts persisted about the young man's temperament to play the typical long, grinding innings at the Test Match level.

 

 True enough, Manjrekar displayed his wealth of talent in his Test debut innings of 48 on the emerald green pitch of Eden Gardens of those days and helped his handsome Bombay colleague Dattu Phadkar to add 76 runs. But when Manjrekar seemed to be in full flow, he gave his wicket away to an innocuous delivery. In the next Test, too, at Kanpur he had settled down only to gift his wicket away. These were the lessons he would not forget ever.

 

Luckily for Manjrekar the selectors persevered with him and he set off for England in 1952. On that dismal tour, Manjrekar's performance was a silver lining. At Headingley in the first Test when Manjrekar joined his captain Vijay Hazare 3 wickets had gone down for 42 with three world-class bowlers  Freddie Trueman, Alec Bedser and Jim Laker on a stranglehold. But on this day Manjrekar was a transformed man. Gone were the exuberance and the indulgence of youth.

 

In one session he climbed to manhood. Cool and composed, he proceeded to match Hazare defence for defence; stroke for stroke. The pair added 222 runs, but more than the statistical figure the partnership heralded that an adolescent had grown into maturity and was ready to carry the mantle from Vijay Hazare in the decade to come.

 

Manjrekar kept his promise. Till he was forced to retire from the Test match scene in 1965, after scoring an unbeaten 102! The man was a tower of strength to the team's cause as well as to his mates. For a decade and a half no Indian batsman displayed the tenacity, the artistry, the courage and the craftsmanship that Vijay Manjrekar did. Tiger Pataudi is on record mentioning that he had not seen a batsman as comfortable as Vijay Manjrekar against both pace and spin.

 

Manjrekar was no fair-weather cricketer. Not a man to pull away from adversity. For sheer courage and technical excellence his innings at Barbados in 1962 has scarcely been bettered. Remember the island match against Barbados when India captain Nariman Contractor was laid low by the fearsome West Indian speedster Charlie Griffith?

 

Well, in that particular innings, Vijay Manjrekar too had to retire hurt with a swollen nose against the fury of Charlie Griffith. The Indians were all out for 86 and, on being asked to follow-on, had no gumption to fight back. All except one. That batsman was Vijay Manjrekar. He left the comfort of his hospital bed, went to the ground and pleaded to be allowed to hold his weapon and go out in the middle to face the enemy onslaught.

 

Now he was not playing merely a game. He was upholding the pride of a nation. The halo of a Maratha warrior was on him. In total contempt he took charge of the situation. Neither Griffith nor Wesley Hall nor Garfield Sobers made the faintest of impression on him that day. He was a soldier inspired; an Indian who would not relent no matter the adversity. He scored an unbeaten hundred, the second fifty coming in as many minutes in the company of medium pacer Vasant Ranjane, the last man! Rarely if ever has a player been expected to stand up and play for the self- respect of his motherland as Manjrekar had taken up the challenge upon himself.

 

Vijay Manjrekar was a professional in the strictest meaning of the word. He had pride, he had capability and he would endeavour to produce his best under every conceivable condition. He was no cry-baby who would blame others for his own weaknesses; no moaner who would leave the ship in mid-stream. Not one with a godfather in BCCI or with political patronage. Such was his commitment to the game that he earned his living from his earnings out of the game. As there was little by way of money from the game in India, Manjrekar spent his summer months in the Lancashire leagues.

 

 In India he had represented Bombay, Bengal, Andhra Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra and Rajasthan in the national championships but wherever he was his was an influence that permeated down to the grass-roots level. Numerous cricketers, who came to the forefront in the 1970s, hero-worshipped him and tried their best to model themselves on him. He was the vanguard of a generation that took self-respect and national pride to the crease every time they gook guard.

 

Manjrekar's batsmanship was of the classical mould. On a rock-like defence flowered a wide repertoire of strokes. Lessons on technique he mastered early in life. But he was no blind follower of orthodoxy. He would utilize technique as his slave but would never stoop to become a slave to technique. The hardened cricketer played the game tough, as it should be. There was no airy-fairy, casual streak about him.

 

Extremely strong on drives off either foot, he would delight to rock back and crack a rasping hook. The square cut was his trade-mark stroke especially after an operation on the right knee restricted him from stepping out of the crease and the gradual accumulation of bulk discouraged him from hooking and pulling as of yore.

 

Manjrekar’s square-cut, later exhibited so very well by Gavaskar, Vishwanath and especially Borde, was to lean back and cut the ball from the stumps. The leaning back was to make room for the full flow of the arm to generate power in the square cut.

 

Vijay Manjrekar had quite a few unusual achievements. He made his maiden first-class century in Test cricket. He played for probably the highest number of first-class State teams. His versatility was such that though primarily a batsman, he represented his country in Test cricket as a wicket-keeper too and was fairly effective at that. In 1952-53 at Kingston, Jamaica, skipper Hazare asked Manjrekar to don the big gloves as both the principal wicket-keepers were found wanting.

 

He kept brilliantly to the wiles of Subhash Gupte and Vinoo Mankad. In a West Indies innings of 576 runs, the debutant irregular wicket-keeper gave away just 7 byes. And then went out to bat at number 3 to score a magnificent 118. In the 1^st innings too his bat had fetched 43. No fatigue ever bothered him. The bulky man was physically far fitter than and far more energetic than players with trimmer waists.

 

 And, wonder of wonders, he was omitted from the Test team after scoring an unbeaten century! Of course, there have also been others who have gone through many of Manjrekar's experiences and ordeals, but there are not too many who have contributed so much and got so little in return.

 

Over a decade and a half, he was the mainstay of our batting line-up. Played 55 Tests scoring 3208 runs at an average of 39.12 including 7 centuries of which the highest was a flawless knock of 189 not out against Dexter's team in 1962. In Ranji Trophy he made 3734 runs at 57.44 with 12 centuries.

 

With unwavering concentration hour after hour he would go about his job with a minimum of fuss. Time and again he would go into his shell with customary caution for the sake of his team's interest, but in times of attack he would again take the initiative to lead from the front.

 

No better example could be given than that against Australia in the 2nd Test at Bombay in 1965. Chasing a target of 255 on the last day, India had lost 6 wickets for just 122 runs when Manjrekar in the company of his young skipper Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi added a vital 93 runs and enabled the ‘evergreen’ Chandu Borde to put the finishing touches to a magnificent victory by 2 wickets against Simpson's Australians.

 

Manjrekar's courage is legendary. Once in 1958-59 in the Delhi Test when the young Chandu Borde was attacking the West Indians’ fearsome pace battery with his audacious stroke-play it was found that Borde, unbeaten on 96, had none to partner him with 9 wickets down. Without a moment's hesitation in walked Manjrekar, who himself was down with a badly injured thumb in plaster. Little did he care about personal comfort and security. By deeds he used to inspire and not by words.

 

I treasure a vivid memory of Vijay Laxman Manjrekar. Central Zone was playing East Zone in a Duleep Trophy tie at Eden Gardens in 1965. After East Zone had piled up 392 runs, Central lost 4 wickets for about 150 when Manjrekar came out to join Hanumant Singh. Throughout the last day the pair batted in splendid but contrasting styles. Whereas Hanumant was dancing down the wicket and driving elegantly all round the wicket, Manjrekar was content to play the sheet-anchor’s role to perfection, where the trade-mark draw-away square-cut predominated.

 

The pair crossed the target with about 15 minutes left for draw of stumps. Now the only interest left in the match was whether the veteran Manjrekar would reach his century, Hanumant already having reached his and was nearing the 150 mark.

 

As the last over of the day began, Manjrekar was just 9 short of his 100 and in total command of the situation. But, believe it or not, the man played out a maiden over! He actually made no apparent effort to go for strokes in order to reach the magical figure.

 

When asked as to why he did not try for the century, he coolly replied, “As Subroto Guha did not bowl a single bad delivery in the last over, I played every ball on its merit." Not a thought of self-interest crossed his mind. So absorbed was he to take his team to first innings lead and victory that he did not feel it worth his while to think of his own hundred. A true artist; a real pro; a role model for every batter.

 

His cool demeanour, his witty remarks, his melodious voice hid a man of rare resolve. Impregnable in defence and impeccable in technique, the composed man was a sadhu in flannels. He was as near to perfection as one could possibly be. Infallible against spin and at ease against pace, the man had no apparent weakness. Peers who have played with or against him unanimously emphasize that he was among the leading batsmen in the world between 1952 and 1965.

 

In 1980 he had come down to Calcutta to take part in a veterans’ exhibition match at the emerald-green CCFC ground. I had the good fortune to open the innings with him. As we walked to the wicket he said, “I shall take the first strike as I am senior to you!” Yes, he was in his 50s and I was 20 years his junior.

 

The first delivery he softly pushed towards point and ran like mad! I hesitated for a moment and then somehow made my ground. Immediately he walked up to me, “What’s up? Are you ok?” I smiled, “Sir, are you sure you want to run quick singles at your age?” He gave a wink, “Arre, getting off the mark. Aur kya?” Fantastic approach even at the end of the tether. Lessons of youth never quite die. I still marvel at the spirit of the man in his 50s.

 

Within two years he was no more. Left behind memories of inspiration; of courage; of technical excellence; of a man largely forgotten by his own men. Left behind a progeny – son Sanjay – to carry forward his mission.