Fearless cricket: Then and Now

West Indies legend Vivian Richards in full flow against England during the 1976 series in the UK. Richards’ three three-figure knocks included two double centuries in a rubber which West Indies won 3-0. Pic/mid-day archives

I have heard a lot about this new breed of cricketers playing "fearless cricket". I like the phrase; the attitude even more. But whenever I hear it, my mind takes me back to the cricket I watched and followed through commentary in the 1970s, and later played in the 1980s. For me, that was fearless cricket.

There were no restrictions on the number of bouncers for fast bowler. There were no neutral umpires. Pitches were uncovered. Boundaries were bigger. Some of the best fast bowlers were running in with a new ball and there were no helmets.

The equipment was basic and, for many players, difficult to afford. Money in the game was nowhere near what it is today. There was no IPL, no franchise cricket, no social media and no million-dollar contracts. You played because you loved cricket. You played it knowing that the ball could hurt you. That, for me, was fearless cricket. In 1972, Garry Sobers, playing for the Rest of the World against Australia at the Melbourne Cricket Ground scored a magnificent 254. Don Bradman described the innings as probably the greatest exhibition of batting ever seen in Australia. Think about that innings. No helmet, no modern protective armour, no huge bats, no modern gloves, pads that make a batsman look almost like a knight going into battle. This was just Sir Garry Sobers and his cricket, taking on an Australian attack with extraordinary freedom and courage. That is what fearless cricket looked like to me.

Sunny, the soldier

How can I talk about that era without mentioning Sunil Gavaskar, India's great soldier at the top of the order. He opened against the finest fast bowlers of his time. He stood up to the best in the world and kept the Indian flag flying. He did not need to attack every ball to be fearless. His courage was in standing there, session after session, facing the quickest and trusting his technique. That too was fearless cricket.

Now, Sir Vivian Richards. Viv didn't just walk onto a cricket field. He walked like a lion entering his territory. He refused to wear a helmet. He had the physique of a boxer and attitude of a man who welcomed a challenge rather than avoid it. The nickname, Smokin' Joe suited him.

You could be watching the game and, even if Viv was standing at the non-striker's end, your eyes would somehow keep going back to him. And when he was fielding, he enjoyed the contest just as much - especially the opportunity to run a batsman out with a direct throw. When I hear "fearless cricket", my heart immediately goes back to those players. My heart accepts the new breed. I enjoy the fearless stroke-making we see today, but my head argues with me. Is it really the same kind of fearlessness? Today's batsmen play on pitches that generally encourage stroke-making. There are shorter boundaries, restrictions on bouncers, helmets, and other equipment. T20 cricket has changed the way batsmen think. The fearless hitting we see here has gradually travelled to red-ball cricket. Batsmen have become comfortable taking risks, playing unconventional strokes and putting pressure back on the bowler. I don't take anything away from the modern cricketer. Far from it. The new generation has developed skills that the older generation never had to learn. Reverse sweeps, ramps, scoops, switch hits and the ability to score at extraordinary speed are products of a changing game. That is also courage.

But Test cricket asks different questions - can you do it when the ball is moving, when the pitch is helping fast bowlers? Can you bat for four or five hours when your body is tired and your concentration tested every ball? Can you leave the ball for an hour when your natural instinct is to attack? Can you absorb pressure? That, for me, is where the real test of fearless cricket begins. Fearless does not necessarily mean hitting sixes. Sometimes fearless means standing your ground when the ball is flying around your ears. Sometimes it means taking a blow and carrying on. Sometimes it means defending for 30 minutes because your team needs you to. Sometimes it means refusing to be intimidated by a world-class bowler. And sometimes, like Viv Richards, it means looking the challenge straight in the eye and saying, bring it on.

Today's cricketers...

I will happily accept that today's cricketers play fearless cricket, but I would also remind them that fearlessness has many faces.

The greatest challenges are not playing without fear when the conditions favour you. The greatest challenge is remaining fearless when the game turns against you. That is where adaptability comes in. White-ball cricket may teach you to attack.

Red-ball cricket teaches you when to attack, when to defend and, most importantly, when to survive. And in the longer version of the game, survival is not weakness. It is mental toughness. That is the quality that separates fearless stroke-making from fearless cricket.

Balvinder Singh Sandhu was part of India's 1983 WC-winning team

Freddo's class

Roy Fredericks

I heard this story from the late Abdul Qadir. It involved Pakistan fast bowler Sarfraz Nawaz and the great West Indian Roy Fredericks during a veterans game. Sarfraz told Qadir that he was going to knock Fredericks's head off because, in their younger days, Roy had hit him for several sixes. Abdul tried to calm him down. "He is older now. You could seriously hurt him," Qadir said. But Sarfraz being Sarfraz, ran in and bowled a bouncer with the very first ball. Fredericks simply pivoted on his back foot and hooked it for a huge six. Sarfraz looked at Qadir and said, "He is still good." Qadir laughed.