Ambar Roy: talent wasted and under-exposed.

He was the original ‘Prince’ of Bengal cricket. A solid nugget of gold. Pristine of purity. Worth millions in intrinsic value.

But the nugget of gold was left untouched, unpolished. No shape or design was ever given to it. It remained till the very end exactly as it was at the very beginning. There was no identity crisis in his case!

Ambar Roy’s presence would not attract attention. His dress was casual to the point of being callous. Even at receptions he would be seen in kolhapuri chappals with his unfashionable wide pyjama-like trousers and an ill-fitting casual shirt. But I personally found the demeanour suited his shy, quiet approach to life. He was just being himself. Whether you liked him or not did not make any difference to his casual man.

But with a cricket bat in hand his personality underwent a complete transformation. The hesitant introvert became a man seething with confidence; a man who attracted the attention of cricket connoisseurs. When he batted even a cricket-ignorant person would know that he was watching the Kishore Kumar of cricket. Absolutely natural; self-made. No one can teach these ‘naturals’ anything. Whatever they learn and do are entirely spontaneous, based on their own instincts.

I believe many people tried their best to show Ambar Roy the ‘correct’ path! All these well-wishers failed. Even his legendary uncle Pankaj Roy, whose late career coincided with Ambar Roy’s early days for Bengal and East Zone, left no impact on the prodigiously talented youth. In fact Ambar Roy was a distinct antithesis to Pankaj Roy. Opener Pankaj was comfortable against pace and spin; relied a lot on cuts, glances, placements and pushes. While Ambar thrived on free-flowing drives and was particularly severe on spinners. Not very comfortable against genuine pace.

When Ambarda struck the ball he always gave me the impression that he was using a broader bat than others! How did he manage to ‘middle’ the ball from the first delivery? Only a man with a super sense of ‘timing’ could do so with such profound ease. His scorching drives left their marks on the dew-laden Eden Gardens turf. On the off-side he was invincible, especially when on the back-foot. People who have played the game would understand how difficult back-foot play is. But to Ambar Roy it came naturally.

Ironically however for a predominantly back-foot player, Ambar Roy was remarkably weak against pace bowling, especially towards the end of career. He could never really overcome his discomfort against genuine pace as were many Indian batters of the time and beyond. Unfortunately he never even tried to mend his weakness.

The power that the lithe physique generated was entirely based on ‘timing’. The power that flowed from his bat stunned a 17 year-old teenager way back in April, 1968. That was Pankaj Roy’s last year of club cricket. I remember taking a ‘dolly’ at mid-on to end Pankajda’s club cricket career! But at the other end the ‘Prince’ was merciless on Mohun Bagan’s strong bowling attack at Eden.

Being inexperienced, I had just no idea that a cricket ball could be hit so hard by a lean, almost frail frame. Ambarda’s drives were bullets that grazed the grass. During a recess in the match, I casually mentioned to our skipper Shyam Sundar Mitra the power behind the strokes. My innocent query received this instant answer from a man of erudite wit, “Arre baba, Raju, whether you hit hard or soft, you get the same number of runs, 4 or 6. Nothing more! Stick to what comes naturally to you.” An important lesson learnt from two genuinely top-quality batters.

Ambar Roy made his official Test debut at Nagpur against New Zealand in 1969. Indian cricket was in dire straits at the time, having been whitewashed by England in England and Australia in Australia. The national selectors decided to try new faces against New Zealand and Australia on Indian soil. Nagpur was hosting a Test for the first time ever. India put up a dreadful show and lost the Test to New Zealand. The nucleus appeared hesitant and lacked application when Ambar Roy strode to the pitch at number 7 in the batting order.

He gave the impression that he had come to play a friendly fixture at the Calcutta maidan. Within minutes he was striking the deliveries – which appeared to be ‘Molotov cocktails’ till then – as if he was swatting flies on the orange orchards of Nagpur. When his innings of 48 ended barely an hour later, the ball had ricocheted from the fence no less than 10 times. What a debut innings it was. To a man the sporting Nagpur crowd gave him a standing ovation and the Indian media was full of praise for a young man who showed that given the opportunities our young talents had the potential to flower against all odds.

But within a few more Tests, exactly three, the honeymoon with Ambar Roy was over! The national selectors in all their collective wisdom realized that this man was not good enough for the India XI. The chief reason was another thrashing, this time at the hands of Australia at Eden. Apart from the genius of Vishwanath, all the other established batters had also failed. Low profile Ambar Roy with scores of 18 and 19 – which were better scores than the more experienced players – was eased out forever. Despite consistent run-getting in the domestic first-class championships, a great potential was lost to Indian cricket.

Players with less than half his potential went on tours to England, Australia and West Indies. Despite constant failures they were persevered with for strange, unknown reasons.  Ambar Roy like Tamil Nadu’s mercurial batter of the early 1960s Milkha Singh – four Tests each – were handled as pawns and sacrificed with impunity.

Because of selectorial short-sightedness highly consistent batters of the 1960s like Shyam Sundar Mitra, Sudhakar Adhikari and Vijay Bhonsle did not get a single opportunity at the Test level. Similar fate awaited quality cricketers like pacemen Abdul Ismail and Samar Chakravarty; spinners Padmakar Shivalkar and Rajinder Goel and the wicket keeper/batter PK Beliappa. While mediocre cricketers were persevered with, many genuine talents suffered in silence in the 1960s.

Ambar Roy’s bat painted pretty pictures all over the grounds of India. Ambar Roy hardly used his feet to be at the pitch of the ball. He would rather prefer to go back and make room to play off the back-foot. Played as late as possible. Exactly as the world-class Majid Jahangir would do. Majid was known to have said, “Foot-work is not the main issue. The main issue is your hand and eye co-ordination and your ball-sense.” Absolutely to the point. Ambarda exemplified the concept not in theory but in action.

He was elegance personified. While batting he appeared to have had so much of time to play the ball. He always looked to be at ease. Never saw him in any kind of discomfort. While I was making my first-class debut at Delhi in 1972, thankfully the man at the other end was my East Zone skipper Ambar Roy. On a treacherous pitch, North Zone was all out for a low score and East Zone followed by losing 6 wickets. Ambarda and I added the necessary 50 plus runs to win the match on first innings lead.

While batting, I asked him, “It seems the ball is turning a lot.” He smiled, “Raju, it is a normal pitch. Bedi and Goel can turn the ball on any pitch. Nothing to worry. Play your natural game.” I was not too sure that my steady, defensive approach would succeed in that situation and condition. So I went on the attack more in hope than with any conviction. Ambarda kept smiling at the other end as I went for the bowling. Not once did he ask me to check my approach. This was a grand lesson that he imparted: let every individual sort his own problem in his own way without unnecessary guidance at the last moment. Thanks, Ambarda, you really helped me that day by not confusing me with extra cautionary guidance and theory.

As a captain he was a total misfit. He was too soft a person to lead ten other people. He just could not even raise his voice to admonish. Never saw him criticizing anyone, not even in private. Many players really took advantage of his soft nature. For instance, whenever Subroto Guha would say, “I am tired, Amra”, he would make a bowling change, may be even after just three overs! The moment Dilip Doshi wanted to bowl, Ambarda would hand him the ball to bowl! Samar Chakrabarti and Alok Bhattacharya invariably suffered.

Everyone was fond of him. His nature was such that he would not hurt even a fly. Once he astounded me when I saw him carrying a whole lot of Phantom illustrated comics for reading on tour! His best friend was Rajan Bala. How did an erudite writer and a cricketer who had not read a single book became the closest of friends is anybody’s guess. Both were diametrically at extreme ends in every possible way except for their dreadful dress sense. However both were wonderful personalities.

I do not think Ambarda ever had a cricket bat which he could call his own. He would borrow bats and pads from others, even in serious matches. Batting with different bats is a very difficult proposition for most specialist batsmen. But for Ambarda it was only natural!

I do not remember seeing him do any physical training. Running round the periphery of the ground was strictly taboo! He would take a few catches before the start of the day’s play and might hit a few deliveries at the nets without his pads on. Nothing more serious than that. But as a youngster he had remarkable reflexes and I distinctly remember him taking some sharp catches at slip.

But he would just not give effort at practice sessions. He was not indisciplined in any way. No, no. Far from it. He was just indifferent; had little idea of his own talent. Wish he had a strong mentor who would have told him how good he was and who would have made him work really hard on his weakness against pace bowling.

Ambar Roy played many memorable knocks for Bengal and East Zone in a career that spanned from 1959 to 1978. He scored against the best of world-class spinners that included Durani, Nadkarni, Bedi, Goel, Chandra, Prasanna and Venkataraghavan. But his most memorable innings was versus Karnataka at Eden Gardens in 1976 in a Ranji Trophy pre-quarter final match.

Karnataka scored nearly 500 runs on the first two days, Bengal replied with about 400 and lost on first innings lead. Ambar Roy played a superlative innings of 150 odd and kept the match alive till the end of the fourth and last day. The point to note is Ambar Roy played a lone-hand scoring those 150 plus runs on a well-worn 3^rd and 4^th day’s pitch against two of the greatest spinners the world had seen. What a magnificent effort it was.

Still regret that I could not give him a little more support having left at 30 odd with a partnership nearing hundred. If only I was able to survive a little longer, the dashing leftie would surely have over-hauled the Karnataka’s imposing score. Ambar Roy’s sterling knock on a treacherous turner against Chandra and Pras never got its due recognition.

Today at a time when players get opportunities galore despite repeated failures, one can only lament at the fate of men like Ambar Roy and Milkha Singh who had the requisite talent but did not do enough justice to themselves in the few opportunities they got. They were dropped like hot potatoes without a thought. The talents remained but the talents got rusted through lack of exposure.