Eknath Solkar

 

Eknath Dhondu Solkar has been a unique cricketer. Never before in the history of the game has a player been selected for the national team exclusively for his fielding prowess. Yes, Learie Constantine (West Indies) and Colin Bland (South Africa) had similar credentials, but then they also had statistical figures to establish their worth in other capacities.

 

When Solkar was named in the India team to play against New

Zealand at Hyderabad in 1969 he was not among the major run-getters or among the main wicket takers in the national championships. Nor did he show any remarkable degree of consistency with the bat and ball to be regarded as a genuine all-rounder.

 

But such was the ability of the lean, young man on the field that without exception people rated him in the highest possible bracket. Quick-silver reflexes, super-fast speed, an unerring accuracy in throwing and a crab-like grip on catches made him a constant threat. In addition, his courage and his uncanny skills made him the cynosure of all eyes.

 

Solkar's cricketing tenure at the international level etched a complete circle. He began at the nadir with no means or lineage to support him. Slowly and surely, however, he went up the curve to circumscribe an orbit. Had a peek from the hallowed zenith. And then all on a sudden the downward course of the orbit brought him plummeting down to the starting point.

 

For about 7 years the fairy-tale story of Solkar's advent and adventure lasted. During the time his reputation as the best fielder in the world was never in any semblance of dispute. During that period he showed remarkable vitality and vigour to have held 53 catches in his 27 Tests. Actually he took 2 more as a substitute before he earned the India cap! He is one of the rare cricketers who took part in Test cricket before being an official Test cricketer himself.

 

Eknath Solkar learnt his cricket at the Hindu Gymkhana ground in Mumbai, where his father was the chief groundsman. In India we have neither respect nor rewards for the men who really look after the grounds. Their toil and their sincerity never received due recognition, due remuneration. Not even today. Thus the circumstances were such that the poor groundsman's son had no scope to pit his skills against the trainees and the members of the club.

 

He had to sit and watch and wait for the privileged ones to call it a day. In fading light, he would grapple with the basics; on his own he devised his own games.

 

However, in the mornings before the start of the matches or the practice sessions, the tiny-tot had a run of the ground. In a peculiar sense he was lucky in this respect. There was no school regimen to shackle him; no well-meaning coach bothered him. No indulgent parent pestered him. He was on his own. And, as with most deprived children, he developed raw survival instinct; an instinct that comes from hunger, from deprivation, from frustration.

 

 Quick on the draw, willing to take and give back body-blows and verbal volleys. The essence of a street-fighter with all the sharpness required to survive on his own without an iota of assistance from any quarter. Kids of this genre develop a shrewd, calculating mind; a perpetual distrust of others. Qualities which give them the so-called "killer instinct" and help them to reach beyond themselves. In this respect Solkar was no exception. Qualities that served him well in the years to follow.

 

One of the marvellous qualities of former Indian cricketers and Indian media personnel is that the moment they see a genuine talent they come forward to lend a helping hand. Solkar found a God-sent benefactor in Vinoo Mankad, who at the time was coaching at the Hindu Gymkhana ground at Mumbai.

 

 Vinoo Mankad spotted the latent talent, moulded the raw material and gave it the required polish. Thankfully, he put no curbs on the natural style of his young protege. As Solkar's progress began through representing the Bombay Schools and West Zone Schools team in the all-India inter schools championship for the Coochbehar Trophy, the Gymkhana members themselves came forward with much-needed financial assistance.

 

Solkar's rise to stardom was gradual. From leading the combined all-India Schools team he graduated to the Bombay Ranji Trophy side. At the time in the 1960s Bombay was the undisputed champion on the domestic front. In that company of unending success, young Solkar held his place with vital contributions.

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Right from his initiation at the school level to his entry into the first-class scene, Solkar was a left-arm spinner. In the Bombay team he was only a distant second fiddle to the spinning presence of Jimmy Diwadekar and the superlative Paddy Shivalkar.

 

However, it is to the credit of his survival instinct that even in that strong combination young Eknath made appropriate contributions with the bat and the ball, but more often with his outstanding ability as a fieldsman. His performance was not of prolific proportions. His primary quality was consistency arising from the attitude of cent per cent effort. His never-say-die made him a respected colleague.

When Vijay Merchant came into the national selection committee as the chairman, he concentrated on youth. The plan, as any new concept was susceptible to be, had some shortcomings. Some mediocre players received the national cap. But apart from the aberrations, the plan also pitchforked Chetan Chauhan, Gundappa Vishwanath, Sunil Gavaskar and Eknath Solkar onto the international platform.

 

Solkar could not have been selected primarily as a batsman. On his Test debut he came in to bat at no. 8. Could not possibly have been considered as a bowler or as an all-rounder. For he bowled just 3 overs out of 101 in the 1st innings and none at all in the 2nd.

 

Dropped from the next Test against Lawry's Australia, he came back for the 2nd Test at Kanpur. This time he batted at no. 7 and opened the bowling. Scored 44 and took Redpath's wicket. Thus the utility man adapted to the demands made on him and came out a winner. From a left-arm spinner he converted himself into a left-arm medium pacer for the sake of the team. That's the kind of spirit and skill he possessed.

 

That in essence was Solkar. Never an outstanding performer with statistics to support him, but a man of remarkable utility value. A man for all occasions. Someone once said that Solkar was a poor man's Sobers. No mean praise that. But Solkar should be remembered for what he was worth, all on his own.

 

In that series against Australia, India lost 3-0. The blend of youth and experience could not quite live up to the high expectations. However, the young man from Mumbai caught our fancy. He looked different, not diffident as some were. He looked spirited and not self-conscious as some were. With the bat he did not contribute centuries, but made vital 30s and 40s in the face of crises. He also picked up the occasional wicket.

 

But more than the actual performance it was the approach that appealed. He made it plain and simple that he was a fighter. He would battle it out till the last drop of blood. He would not throw in the towel, nor be unnerved by reputations. In those two series of 1969 far more talented players of privileged birth shivered their way into oblivion, but not so the son of a groundsman. Therein lay the magic of sport, where in the heat of battle it is one against one with no external factors to discriminate between the duelists.

 

Within months he went off to West Indies with Ajit Wadekar's men. In that historic series Sardesai, Gavaskar and Durani were the real winners and men like Bedi, Prasanna and Venkataraghavan were no less. But between those names one person most surely stood out in my opinion. He was none other than Eknath Solkar.

 

The boy from the 'depressed' classes showed all and sundry that

birth had nothing to do with character. Solkar with all his

limitations put up one heroic resistance after another against the

might of Sobers' men. Just as our ill-equipped jawans had shown unparalleled valour against the military might of China in the 1962.

 

That was real bravery, as was Solkar's. In that series Solkar was batting with real courage and consistency. Once when Solkar snicked a ball to the boundary, Sobers, it is said, taunted him, "Maan, why not use the middle of the bat instead of the edge?" Quick on the repartee, Solkar retorted, "You play your way, I will play my way." Sobers never quite recovered from that verbal exchange.

 

That was deadly stuff. Made possible by a man who learnt to survive by the hard way. He knew his mind; he knew his limitations. Exhibited character, not trendy styles. Showed guts, not foolhardiness. He was not a man to be overawed by occasions or by reputations. He expected no quarters, gave none in return.

 

All along in any position he has been a great fielder. Brilliant as well as safe. On the English tour of 1971 as well as against England in 1972-73 he took catches that defied description as well as gravity. Once he dived full length with arms stretched to catch Alan Knott's forward prod. It was because of Solkar's skills at short-leg that all our spinners could bowl with their confidence on a perpetual high.

 

Then again once at Eden Gardens as Tony Lewis stepped out, so did Solkar take a sideways step at short leg! And as the batter drove the ball towards the on-side, Solkar clung on to it for dear life! It was not a catch; not even a half-chance. But a wonderful combination of anticipation, courage and reflex brought about yet another downfall. Mind you, the man had no head gear, no shin pads, no chest guards. Solkar would have abhorred those paraphernalia. Well did he know that if one's skill could not do the job, no amount of equipment would be of any assistance.

 

It was reported that skipper Tony Lewis received a New Year greetings card wishing him happy days ahead. The erudite England captain replied, “With Solkar at short-leg, how can one be really happy?” Absolutely to the point Lewis was. Every batter would readily agree that the presence of Solkar at short-leg was a constant source of irritation with his antics and skills.

 

Since 1974, when he got his only century in Test cricket against Lloyd's West Indies, the old fire was gradually on the decline. Although he was still taking his catches, he was not converting as many as he so easily used to do.

 

The saga came to a sad finale at Calcutta in 1976. Two simple chances he floored in his favourite trademark position at short-leg. The career had finally turned the full circle. Never again was he to don the India cap.

 

Unfortunately like many of his mates he could not overcome the frustration of being sidelined. Became miserable and made life miserable for his young trainees. He was constantly on the flash back of his own cricketing life. A pitiful end to an eventful career.

 

He was surely the first player to have played international cricket primarily for his versatility as a fieldsman. He did score runs in times of need. Did give nightmares to even Geoff Boycott with his wobbly swingers. But to all those, who had the good fortune to see him, he will be remembered as a champion fielder non pareil. A natural talent who literally came up from the grass-roots. Undoubtedly India's greatest-ever close-in fielder.