“Bob Willis is on top of his mark now at the far end. He’s got 3 slips, a gully, a cover, an extra cover, 6 on the off as he turns and runs in to bowl to Gavaskar, right arm with the ball, swaying back and forth, past umpire Swarup Kishen now and he bowls to Gavaskar and that one is pitched up and coming in, oh and what a lovely shot that is by Gavaskar. He leans in and drives it away elegantly between cover and extra cover, Gower and Lamb are after it, they’ve taken one, Gower gets to it first, just inside the deep cover boundary and he turns and flings it back to Bob Taylor at the top of the stumps, but not before Gavaskar and Vengsarkar, have completed two runs. There was not much power behind that stroke, just pure timing and placement. Gavaskar knew exactly where the gap, was as only he can, and he played that drive dissecting the two fielders and timed it just well enough and far enough for him to be able to come back for the second and take the strike again. And those two runs take Sunil Manohar Gavaskar onto to 30 and the score is 52 for the loss of one wicket. Baavan ek wicket ke nuksan Par.”
From a plain reading of the above, one would never be able to match the emotions that one would have felt had one heard these words from Suresh Saraiya over the radio in the early 80s. Listening to this live was as if Willis and Gavaskar were playing before our very eyes. I became a Sunil Gavaskar fan long before I saw him in action, thanks to Suresh Saraiya’s running commentary. Even if the batsman did not play a single stroke and left each ball outside the off-stump alone through to the wicket keeper for a maiden over, Suresh Saraiya had a different description of each delivery and the batsman’s technique each time. I imagined myself playing like each batsman or bowler that he had described to us over the radio. The radio would be turned on long before the match started; just to hear Suresh Saraiya seeking expert comments before the match from past players like Pataudi or Jaisimha. The disturbance in the signal would create a feeling that the spectators were making noise in the background. At home, we didn’t have a particularly good radio; that meant that one had to sit right next to the in-built amplifier with an ear strained to its cover to catch the commentary. Every now and then the radio required a little tap or a shift in position to get a clearer reception. Not only for the Test Matches, you could hear Suresh Saraiya’s commentary for all major Ranji Trophy matches and you built an opinion about a player’s technique and whether he could eventually break into the Test side. One such player was Mohinder Amarnath and when you heard Suresh Saraiya describe his batting, you could not but get angry at the selectors for leaving him out. That, Lala Amarnath, Mohinder’s father, was one of the expert commentators for radio, had nothing to do with Suresh Saraiya’s comments. Those days, it was fun taking notes and keeping the score and checking R.Mohan’s report in The Hindu the following day.
As I grew up and we made progress to television, we saw for ourselves what Suresh Saraiya was earlier describing for us. From him and Bapu Nadkarni, we progressed to Narottam Puri and Sushil Doshi and then further to the Tony Greigs and Richie Benauds and we never returned. Although Suresh Saraiya continued his ball-to-ball commentary over the radio, we could hardly ever listen to him for a full session – except when one was travelling and the transistor was the only source of catching up with the cricket.
The era of professional commentators is over what with retired cricketers progressing seamlessly into a career in the media. But Suresh Saraiya will remain etched in memory; it was he who inspired a generation of youngsters to love the sport. Mr. Saraiya, R.I.P.
From a plain reading of the above, one would never be able to match the emotions that one would have felt had one heard these words from Suresh Saraiya over the radio in the early 80s. Listening to this live was as if Willis and Gavaskar were playing before our very eyes. I became a Sunil Gavaskar fan long before I saw him in action, thanks to Suresh Saraiya’s running commentary. Even if the batsman did not play a single stroke and left each ball outside the off-stump alone through to the wicket keeper for a maiden over, Suresh Saraiya had a different description of each delivery and the batsman’s technique each time. I imagined myself playing like each batsman or bowler that he had described to us over the radio. The radio would be turned on long before the match started; just to hear Suresh Saraiya seeking expert comments before the match from past players like Pataudi or Jaisimha. The disturbance in the signal would create a feeling that the spectators were making noise in the background. At home, we didn’t have a particularly good radio; that meant that one had to sit right next to the in-built amplifier with an ear strained to its cover to catch the commentary. Every now and then the radio required a little tap or a shift in position to get a clearer reception. Not only for the Test Matches, you could hear Suresh Saraiya’s commentary for all major Ranji Trophy matches and you built an opinion about a player’s technique and whether he could eventually break into the Test side. One such player was Mohinder Amarnath and when you heard Suresh Saraiya describe his batting, you could not but get angry at the selectors for leaving him out. That, Lala Amarnath, Mohinder’s father, was one of the expert commentators for radio, had nothing to do with Suresh Saraiya’s comments. Those days, it was fun taking notes and keeping the score and checking R.Mohan’s report in The Hindu the following day.
As I grew up and we made progress to television, we saw for ourselves what Suresh Saraiya was earlier describing for us. From him and Bapu Nadkarni, we progressed to Narottam Puri and Sushil Doshi and then further to the Tony Greigs and Richie Benauds and we never returned. Although Suresh Saraiya continued his ball-to-ball commentary over the radio, we could hardly ever listen to him for a full session – except when one was travelling and the transistor was the only source of catching up with the cricket.
The era of professional commentators is over what with retired cricketers progressing seamlessly into a career in the media. But Suresh Saraiya will remain etched in memory; it was he who inspired a generation of youngsters to love the sport. Mr. Saraiya, R.I.P.
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