Seeing Ravi Shastri’s name on a Wankhede Stadium stand will fill me with pride, because it reminds me that in cricket, as in life, attitude and courage will always find their place
Ravi Shastri walks back to the dressing room after guiding Mumbai to victory over Saurashtra with an unbeaten 93 in the West Zone Ranji Trophy fixture at Wankhede Stadium. Season captain Sachin Tendulkar (right) returns with 80 not out on January 3, 1994. Pic/mid-day archives
Some names are written on scoreboards. Some are etched in memory. And a rare few find their way into the very soul of a stadium. Today, as the North Stand at the iconic Wankhede Stadium bears the name of Ravi Shastri, I don’t just see a signboard being unveiled. I see years unfolding —quietly, vividly — like an old film reel playing in the mind.
In that moment, I find myself not merely celebrating a cricketer but remembering a teammate, a friend, and a personality who always stood tall — on and off the field.
I have known Ravi since our early days — club cricket, University matches, and then representing India together. I called him ‘Sindhi’ out of affection, and he would call me ‘Don’ in return. That was our bond — simple, genuine, and built over years of shared journeys.
Ravi was never the most naturally gifted player in the room, but he was, without doubt, the most determined. While others waited for opportunities, Ravi made sure the doors opened for him. He had clarity, belief, and above all, an attitude that refused to accept mediocrity. I have always believed that many players have talent, but what separated Ravi was his mindset.
I still remember the 1982–83 tour of Pakistan. Ravi was injured, struggling for a place, and things were not going his way. Then came that moment — he was asked to open the innings in the sixth and final Test at Karachi.
With stitches in his webbing and a bandage wrapped around his hand, he walked out to face a fierce attack — Imran Khan, Sarfraz Nawaz, Tahir Naqqash, and Abdul Qadir. No complaints. No hesitation. Just resolve.
That 128 wasn’t just an innings. It was a statement, a statement that told all of us exactly what Ravi Shastri was made of. And then, of course, Wankhede. The same ground where today his name will live forever. I was there when he hit six sixes in an over in 1984-85. The crowd had been tough on him earlier, but Ravi thrived on that pressure. Shot after shot, he turned doubt into disbelief and disbelief into admiration. By the end of it, the same crowd that had questioned him was on its feet, applauding a moment that would become part of cricketing folklore. And remember, he ended up getting a double century in that game against Baroda.
What stands out for me even today is his attitude. He hated losing. He played every game — whether for club, Mumbai, or India — with the same intensity. Our coach, Ramakant Achrekar sir, always valued attitude above everything else, and Ravi was a perfect example of that philosophy. It is the same attitude that shaped legends like Sachin Tendulkar.
The North Stand has always been special to us cricketers. That’s where true lovers of the game sit — people who understand cricket, who come to watch the game for what it is. It feels right that Ravi’s name will now be associated with that stand.
I read in this newspaper recently that he can be called the quintessential Wankhede Stadium performer. Some great Ravi Shastri feats have been witnessed here — those six sixes in an over, Test centuries against England and Australia, leading Mumbai to a Ranji Trophy title after eight seasons in 1993-94. But for me, this stand honour is not just about records or achievements. It is about a journey we shared, the battles we fought, and the memories we carry. Seeing Ravi Shastri’s name at Wankhede will fill me with pride, because it reminds me that in cricket, as in life, attitude and courage will always find their place.
Along with Ravi, there are other stalwarts who will be honoured today. Dilip Sardesai, the man who was a batting giant alright, but let’s not forget his role in mentoring players, especially Mumbai cricketers. Often, Sardesai would make an entry into the Mumbai dressing room when I coached them from 1996 to 1998.
Eknath Solkar will be honoured too. The world remembers him for his quicksilver fielding, his sharp catching at short leg, the hero of Oval 1971. I will remember him for being my first Ranji Trophy captain. Solkar led Mumbai to a title triumph that season (1981). I can still see my skipper smiling as he accepted the trophy from a state minister with BCCI and MCA president SK Wankhede looking on. It coincided with the end of his Ranji playing days. Ekki never stopped smiling.
And now, Diana Edulji. Excellent all-rounder, but more importantly she has to be credited for being the face of Indian women’s cricket. My congratulations to Ravi and Diana, and my undying respect for Sardesai and Solkar.
Mumbai-based Balvinder Singh Sandhu was part of India’s 1983 World Cup-winning team.
Clayton Murzello’s Pavilion End will be back next week. Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.
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