Bishan Singh Bedi

Erapalli Anantharao Srinivas Prasanna

Bhagwat Subramanya Chandrashekhar

Fear of pace is very different from fear of spin. In the former case, it’s the fiery speed of the ball that terrifies batsmen and unsettles them. But how on earth does the humble spinner terrorize these willow-wielders ? Picture this: the moment a spinner comes on, a batsman takes off his helmet. Is it an expression of relief ? Perhaps, yes. But try telling that to the batsmen who’ve faced the three spin legends of Indian cricket we are going to talk about.

Spin-bowling is an art - it’s a combination of guile, trajectory, line, length, turn and bounce. Artists do not scare people. They overwhelm you; they mesmerize you; they even fox you. It’s that wonder in their work which forces people to surrender. With spinners, a subtle variation is all it takes to bamboozle the greatest of batsmen.

Batsmen are tempted to either step out and play breathtaking drives or rock back and employ the cut or the pull. is is an interesting tussle between bat and ball. Nothing can please the eye more than a battle between a quality spinner and a prolific batsman. After all, it’s a game of wits.

The Deadly Trio

The three iconic figures of Indian history Bishan Singh Bedi, Erapalli Anantharao Srinivas Prasanna and Bhagwat Subramanya Chandrasekhar presented the cricketing world with one of the most therapeutic tussles in the game’s illustrious history. Completing the picturesque scene would be Eknath Solkar or S Abid Ali in the ‘leg trap’, These men would seduce batsmen the world over with their illusory art, force them to play a false stroke and nail them.

Bedi and Prasanna could test the very foundation of a batsman. They offered no respite. No, they weren’t brash. Nor did they shout and scream. All they did was administer slow poison. There were no shortcuts against these men. Chandra was completely unpredictable and it was erraticism that made him lethal. He was someone who turned his deformity into strength. A series win in England - India’s first on the isles - bears testimony to this quality of Chandra.

“I have always thought that a great clockmaker would have been proud to have set Bedi in motion - a mechanism finely balanced, cog rolling silently and hands sweeping in smooth arcs across the face. Yet, it would be wrong to portray him as something less than human - all hardware and no heart - because he bowls with a fiery aggression which belies his gentle and genial nature. His rhythm, too, has only come after countless hours of practising in the nets,” wrote former England captain’ Tony Lewis in The Cricketer (1975).

How about this compliment from Jim Laker? Yes, the England off-spinner who claimed 19 wickets in a Test match against Australia in 1956, said he would want to watch Ray Lindwall, the great Australian fast bowler, and Bedi operating in tandem.

When it came to foxiness, Prasanna would beat even, say, a fox. He loved ‘buying’ wickets, especially when the pitch offered no help. He would set the field in such a way that the batsman would be lured into playing a risky shot. He knew very well that an early boundary would do the batsman’s confidence a world of good. Alas, this period of success would be short-lived. Prasanna would soon plot the batsman’s downfall.

Prasanna had a way with batsmen. The moment he would come on to bowl, the batsman would go into a so- called ‘Attack Pras’ mode. The reason is simple. Prasanna may have humbled him on several occasions in the past. The batsman would think its payback time. Fair enough. But Prasanna would hold one back and the ball would literally hang in the air before beating the batsman in flight, off the wicket and either crash into the stumps or into the wicketkeeper’s gloves for a straightforward stumping opportunity. The battle of wits between Prasanna and Ian Chappell was a spectacle with few possible parallels.

The Bombay Test of 1968 presented us with an eye- soothing duel. It was a visual therapy. No two deliveries were similar, but Chappell stepped out to Prasanna on every other occasion and, in the process, looking way too predictable.

Chappell’s propensity to step out only excited Prasanna. It gave him ample time - and opportunity - to try out his angles. But on that day, Chappell was simply brilliant. He was bisecting the field with precision. Skipper MAK Pataudi persisted with Prasanna. And the bowler repaid the faith by having Chappell bowled.

Chandra: The Early Struggle

Chandra was different. At The Oval in 1971 and on many other occasions, Chandra proved that on his day, he could run through any line-up. Even the flattest of pitches seemed like a minefield when Chandra was in operation. All he needed was his right arm to generate speed.

Chandra’s story can bring a dead man to life. He was affected by polio at the age of five. His right arm was in a plaster. So severe was the impairment that he couldn’t even hold a glass of water. But Chandra loved playing tennis-ball cricket. He could bat, but there was no way he could bowl.

It took him nearly six years before he could raise his affected arm. But he couldn’t hold it up for too long. But that’s all Chandra wanted: hope. He started bowling with a tennis ball. And whenever the temptation to bowl with a red cricket ball got to him, he’d go to the nets. However, he continued to keep wickets for the school team.

A few years later, Chandra started to bowl extensively in the nets. And his arm was now coming down nicely at a rapid pace. His speed terrified batsmen. Batsmen failed to judge his length and line, especially on matting wickets. It was because the descent of his arm was rapid.

Chandra tried to imitate his hero - the great Aussie leg-spinner Richie Benaud - and his googly would bounce disconcertingly off a length. And his line would be difficult to judge. The nip and pace he got off the pitch was utterly unbelievable. The deliveries sent the stumps on a cart-wheeling trip.

Tales about Chandra’s magical arm spread like wildfire. The state selectors set their eyes on him. Thoroughly impressed, they picked him for a match against Kerala. But he hardly bowled in that game. However, he picked up 25 wickets in the three Ranji matches. Chandra was on a high, but he had a long way to go. On his Duleep Trophy debut, he picked up five wickets. And just six months after his initiation into club cricket, Chandra was on the verge of making his Test debut against England at the Brabourne.

Hats off to Chandra. This is what separates the good from the great. Like most of us, Chandra could have chosen to cry over his fate and give up. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned his weakness into his biggest strength and toyed with world-class batsmen. More importantly, he was at peace with himself.

Bedi’s elevation to Test Cricket was no less dramatic. He was playing for the India Prime Minister’s XI against the West Indies in New Delhi and picked up seven wickets with his tantalizing flight. Prasanna took four in the same match. This is what he has to say about Bedi. “Bish was flighting the ball beautifully to the seasoned West Indian batsmen. He had everything in him to play international cricket.”

Having lived in Amritsar in an era when there was no television, Bedi first watched a Test match in Kolkata. It also happened to be his maiden Test! He had never even dreamt of playing Test cricket so early in his life. With Bapu Nadkarni and Salim Durani in the side (both players were more useful all-rounders), Bedi didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t all that athletic on the field and that made him a “poor fielder”.

Ajit Wadekar captained Bedi and also played against him. “I feel Bishan is the second-best bowler I have watched and played against. Vinoo Mankad was up there. Usually, left-handers find it easy to play left-arm spinners, but I hardly scored runs against Bishan. He was a terrific bowler. He was shrewd when it came to assessing the pitch. He was also a great judge of the batsman’s strengths and weaknesses. He would literally toy with the opposition. The English had no clue how to tackle him. On the 1971 tour of England, he supported Chandra brilliantly.”

To the Aussies, the Prasanna-Bedi combo was like a death threat. The moment one got a wicket, the other would rush to hug him. They would meticulously formulate plans a day before the match. And more often than not, they would succeed. Back in 1972-73, the cricket fraternity in India was excited to watch Dennis Amiss, the renowned England opener. What followed was bizarre. Amiss couldn’t even dismiss the half-volleys. He’d become a slave of technique. The more he practised against the fastish left-arm spinner Derek Underwood and the up- and-down stuff of Norman Gifford, the more he found himself in trouble. Bedi was a different bowler altogether.

So what made Bedi so difficult to play? Chandu Borde, a fine batsman, tries to unravel the mystery. “Bishan was a great bowler. Playing for a weakened Delhi team only made him cunning. More often than not, Bedi had less than 200 runs to defend. Mumbai’s Padmakar Shivalkar was lucky. He usually had the cushion of a 400-plus total. I’ve played many spinners, but none like Bedi. He had so many variations up his sleeve. He made batting difficult even on a belter of a wicket. The batsman would prepare himself to play a certain type of stroke, but the ball would suddenly dip and drop and you had to employ a different stroke.”

Bedi’s skills gave nightmares to the best of batsmen. Like Prasanna, Bedi also loved to ‘buy’ wickets. Many a time, you would see Bedi applaud the batsman for hitting him out of the park. Next up, Bedi would unleash one of his many variations and make the batsman look like a fool. During his long career, Sunil Gavaskar has played against many a great left-arm spinner like Nadkarni, Durani, Shivalkar, Rajinder Goel and Dilip Doshi. “To me, Bedi and Wasim Akram are the best left-arm bowlers of all time,” Gavaskar says.

Hot-headed, Cool Customer

Bedi also captained the country. Those were the days when Indian cricket was mired in controversy. A man of principles, Bedi reacted and was duly backed by his mates. During the so-called ‘Friendship Series’ against Pakistan in 1978, India needed 23 off 14 balls in the Sahiwal ODI. Viswanath and Gaekwad were at the crease and pacer Sarfraz Nawaz kept bowling bouncer after bouncer. The umpires were unmoved. They were wary of a backlash and simply refused to call wide. An enraged Bedi conceded the game.

Here’s more. England fast bowler John Lever reportedly applied Vaseline to the ball during the tour of India in 1976-77. Umpire Judah Reuben, who worked for the Bombay Police, observed a thin strip of the petroleum jelly on the pitch. He slyly collected it. His investigations gave credence to the theory that the Vaseline on Lever’s forehead - it prevents sweat from trickling into the eyes - was actually finding its way to the ball. And as a result, the ‘shiny’ ball was talking. No wonder India’s line-up collapsed like a pack of cards in the previous Test. The International Cricket Council (ICC), which was then dominated by officials from England and Australia, dismissed the allegations. And guess what, it was Bedi who paid the price for raising his voice against Lever. He lost out on a county deal with Northamptonshire.

Much before the controversy erupted in 1974, Bedi had apparently told a British TV channel that he hadn’t criticized his team members. It was a top BCCI official who had made up his mind and come to the conclusion that Bedi was guilty of indiscipline. The Board honcho then instructed the selectors not to consider Bedi for the first Test against the West Indies in Bangalore. is was nothing but high-handedness on the part of the official. Sift through the pages of history and you’ll see the same treatment was meted out to Lala Amarnath. The Maharaja of Vizianagram (Vizzy they used to call him) was, perhaps, the worst man to have led India. A below-average player, he led the side only because he financed the team’s tours! It was he who had Amarnath sent back from England in 1936 on grounds of indiscipline.

Those were also the days when the Indian cricket board was never taken seriously. Our players were treated unfairly most of the time. But slowly and steadily, the power center shifted to these shores. Today, the BCCI calls the shots. Yes, N Srinivasan and his mates can be called bullies, but remember the English and the Aussies did the same when they were in power. The truth is they just can’t accept the fact that the Indian board calls the shots today. The ‘first world’ media blatantly criticizes the Board without ever appreciating the good work it does. The BCCI seldom gets credit for the Indian team’s phenomenal rise. Having said that, the board must accept blame for the muck surrounding the IPL. It needs to be more transparent in its dealings. It can’t afford to lose its credibility.

Bedi was involved in another controversy, this time in the West Indies. Let’s call it intimidation. Clive Lloyd was confident of beating India in the Port of Spain Test in 1976. But the visitors chased down a record 404 with six wickets in hand. The series was levelled and Lloyd realized he had to win the last Test in Jamaica.

Having suffered a humiliating 1-5 loss against Australia not long ago, Lloyd would have lost his captaincy had India won. And when openers Gavaskar and Gaekwad handled the fearsome pacers demurely, Lloyd pressed the panic button and asked Michael Holding to bowl round the wicket. Realising that the umpires were allowing the bowlers to dish out such intimidating stuff, Bedi lost his cool and declared the innings closed.

Says Wadekar, “Bish was too opinionated. During The Oval Test in 1971, which we won, I replaced him with Chandra. Believe it or not, he behaved like a cranky old woman. But once Chandra picked up a wicket, Bish was alright! He had his principles and followed them. He liked to ‘buy’ wickets. At times, the situation demanded tight bowling but he continued to bowl his way.”

Chandra was a very different bowler. He played a lot under Wadekar. In the 1972-73 series, he picked up 35 wickets in five Tests. “Bishan was unique in his own brilliant way. With the easiest and the smoothest of actions, he had so many variations in his armoury that regularly foxed some of the greatest batsmen. He was even brilliant with the new ball, just like the great Vinoo Mankad was,” Farokh Engineer says.

The former wicketkeeper-batsman goes on to say that any and every aspiring left-arm spinner should emulate Bedi. “Pras, too, had a very uncomplicated and unique style with so many discreet variations. He was as genuine an off-spinner as one could find. His ‘floater’, which is now called the ‘doosra’, was bowled with a straight arm. All in all, it was an absolute privilege to have kept wickets for Bishan, Pras and Chandra.”

Brijesh Patel played with both Prasanna and Chandra for Karnataka. “Prasanna was competitive even at the nets. He would set his field and then try to get us out. He could do this in matches because he trained so hard at the nets. He had a knack of studying a batsman’s strengths and weaknesses. He would set the field and bowl accordingly. Chandra was a rhythm bowler. If he got into rhythm, he would run through the side as we saw him do at The Oval. I have seen him win us games from hopeless positions. He was a match-winner.”

Bangalore Boys

Prasanna and Chandra played for the same club - City Cricketers - in Bangalore. Prasanna assesses Chandra very well. “He is a 100 percent team man who wasn’t ambitious. He loves his music and solitude.”

In 1968, Chandra was sent back from Australia after his ankle began to give him trouble. Things only got worse when he met with a road accident in India. He was crestfallen after he was dropped for the 1971 tour of the West Indies. “Perhaps, the selectors thought that his inability to master left-handers may cost the team a great deal. But Chandra was different in England. He found his rhythm and everyone knows what happened at The Oval. Later, he was virtually unplayable against England at home too. For the first time, I saw both his arms working in tandem. No one could pick his faster one. He had the unique quality of being able to accept success and failure with the same spirit.”

Chandra is as modest as ever, “I used to watch Bedi and Prasanna minutely and observed that they had tremendous confidence in their ability. With such confidence, you have more chances of succeeding. In my case, it was a matter of rhythm and that was very important for me. People ask me whether the three of us sat down and formulated plans. The truth is we never did. Bedi and Prasanna were shrewd enough to spot weaknesses in a batsman. And they would corner him. But on my day, I would just run through sides.”

Chandra was really fussy about his field placings. His journey through club, state and zonal and international cricket took just four months. “Before I could understand anything, I was wearing the India cap,” he says. Tiger Pataudi was his Test captain. He knew Chandra needed a leg slip, a forward short-leg and a fielder to the left of the square-leg umpire. He couldn’t really bowl otherwise. Wadekar, too, set the same field in the 1972-73 series against England where Chandra took 35 wickets in five Tests. Being a shrewd captain, Wadekar would study the batsman. Once, during the 1971 Oval Test, Wadekar replaced Chandra with Bedi. And once Bedi picked up a wicket, he brought Chandra back on. Both got a wicket each in that spell.

Chandra owes a lot of his success to the fielders who complemented his efforts. He was effusive in his praise for close-in fielders, especially Solkar. “His fielding position was a dangerous one. Mind you, there was no protective gear back then. But he never flinched and took some brilliant catches off my bowling.”

The trio of Bedi, Prasanna and Chandra represented a magical age in Indian cricket. Had they played together for a decade, India would have surely won more matches. But the selectors were too whimsical.

During the tour of Australia and New Zealand in 1968-69, Prasanna proved he was a world-class bowler. He took 49 wickets in eight Test matches. And when the Australians arrived on these shores, he was again at his very best. However, he suffered a foot injury during the tour of the West Indies and missed a couple of Tests.

However, things took a different turn in England where the new manager, Colonel Hemu Adhikari, called the shots. Srinivas Venkataraghavan had arrived on the scene and he was in the side on account of his tight bowling and brilliant fielding. Prasanna found himself warming the bench. Being the seniormost spinner, he wanted to be spoken to. That never happened. On his part, Wadekar defended the decision, saying the conditions were not suited to Prasanna’s style of bowling.

In cricket, the captain should and must have the license to pick his playing XI. Prasanna was Pataudi’s go-to man. But every leader has his own bunch of trusted lieutenants. When Wadekar took over, Prasanna fell out of favour. There was nothing personal here. It’s just that he didn’t fit into Wadekar’s scheme of things. Venkat got the nod and maybe close-in fielding was a value-add.

One couldn’t expect Chandra to hit form because he was totally unorthodox and unpredictable. Bedi, the youngest of the deadly trio, says, “It was my immense fortune that I was the youngest and latest to join them. As an upstart from Amritsar, I was always overawed by them. They were all miles ahead of me because of their acumen.” Bedi thought he was way behind the pecking order, but it didn’t bother him. “I knew I wasn’t as good as them, but I was happy to be in their shadow.”

Bedi calls himself “just a cog in the wheel” before labelling his mates the “real spin docs”. “Pras was the wiliest, while Chandra was a natural asset,” he says. Bedi was aware of his poor athletic ability. “I used to stand close to the stumps and listen to the ‘whrrrrrr’ sound as the ball left their hands. It was a bit like the release of a top via a fine rope. The kind of spin they imparted on the cricket ball was just unbelievable. It was a delight to watch the ball revolve in the air before reaching the batsman.”

Watching the English, the Aussies and the mighty West Indians succumb to the crafty wiles of Prasanna and Chandra was more than what any university could teach Bedi. Chandra and Bedi were roommates on most tours. Bedi says that humility was Chandra’s greatest strength. But considering the kind of selfless praise he has showered on his spinning contemporaries, the very same could be said about Bedi as well.

Bedi washes his hands off any compliment, but it is true that he was as big an asset to the team as Prasanna and Chandra. The three represent a lot more than success. They convey that victory does not lie in strength. Success lies in not following a set pattern, but carving out a niche for yourself. Prasanna, Bedi and Chandra did exactly that.

Playing at a time when batting used to be India’s biggest strength, the trio gave a whole new meaning to Indian bowling. Instead of trying to imitate the pace bowlers of the world, they worked on India’s indigenous strength. By paying attention to a much-ignored facet of the sport, the three turned the tables on the other cricket-playing nations by improvising on our strength instead of presenting batsmen with a second-rate imitation of their own bowlers.

Bedi, Chandra and Prasanna represent the arrival of an India that was not shy of trying. They declared the arrival of an India which wasn’t scared to be original. They combined well against any opposition. And irrespective of the nature of the pitch, they bowled to the captain’s plan. More often than not, they succeeded. Their ability to strategize and execute those plans was phenomenal. Blessed with astute brains, they read the situation and responded brilliantly. They are among the greatest legends of Indian cricket.