The Sultan of Sixty Four Squares - Viswanathan Anand

The most consistent individual champion from India at the global level is a man who wears his genius behind his thin spectacle frames and buttoned-down garb. But rarely does Viswanathan Anand get the mass adulation an international sporting sensation deserves.  

Part of the problem lies in the fact that chess is an impenetrable sport. Your adrenaline kicks in as Bolt scorches to the finish line. Your appreciation for the sense of beauty is on the ascent when you witness a Laxman cover drive. And you sit back in awe as Federer produces that gobsmackingly awesome drop volley. In Anand’s case, the spectator cannot feel such aesthetics. Although, you wish you could. You wish you could decipher the thousands of calculations running in his head. The geometry of moves planned. Or, the salacious strategy that foxes his opponent.

For most of us who think Ruy Lopez is a new soccer sensation in the Spanish League or Queen’s Gambit is the Queen’s thoughts on Brexit, Viswanathan Anand and the game he so brilliantly plays will always remain an enigma. The only way this could be reversed is to take the game to the grassroots – to schools, where it becomes part of the curriculum. It’s the least we can do to help the younger generation imbibe the intricacies of the game. And make a man like Vishy Anand proud.

Dravid - A cricketer like no other

VVS Laxman offered us scintillating art. Sachin Tendulkar, flashes of genius. Sourav Ganguly served us a concoction of grit and excellence. Virender Sehwag dolled out a liberating experience to batting patrons. And Rahul Dravid, gave us what the rest couldn’t: a sense of reassurance over a period of 16 long years. Truth be told, he made the Famous Five look erudite, classy and intense.

Rahul Dravid wasn’t your average cricketer. He could debate on Schopenhauer and Saigal. Discuss Chaos Theory and Calvin and Hobbes. He ambled across bookstores and visited art galleries before a test match. And by the end of next day, he would have built an innings, which would have given India a lead, changed the course of the Test match or rescued the team from a surefire loss.

When he walked back to the pavilion with his shirt drenched in sweat and a demeanour that wore an unassuming smile, a classic innings would have been composed. No outlandish celebration. No flashy interviews.

For Rahul Dravid, it was just another day in office.

Stefan Edberg - The Boss of the Single-handed Backhand

In the mid-80s to the early-90s, Stefan Edberg exuded icy calm as he executed those awe-inspiring volleys and a magically flawless stroke that is fast disappearing from tennis today – the single-handed backhand. He played in an era when tennis was still beautiful. Craft was enshrined. And skill was worshipped. Power tennis hadn’t yet blasphemed its way into the hallowed portals of the game.

The double-fisted backhand is an assault to your senses. Mostly used by today’s gym-toned players with legs that resemble Roman columns. The single-handed backhand is artistic. Practiced by a few who still court grace like Federer and Wawrinka. The double-fisted backhand would be a stroke that a Gooch would play if he took to tennis. The single-handed backhand would be VVS Laxman’s favourite stroke.

On that note, it was pure joy to watch Edberg execute this stroke. As the ball approached him, Edberg would start crafting his return with a huge backswing. Just before the racquet is released, the non-playing left hand would gently hold the neck of the racquet to offer a charismatic push to ensue the stroke. Now the ball is at close quarters to be hit. Edberg would then bend his knees and with one-hand, bring the racquet down like a surfer waiting for the wave. The hitting of the ball and the glorious follow-through would resemble the surfer cresting the wave in style. Well, his genius didn’t end there. That final flick of the wrist when he completed his stroke would decide where the ball was placed. On most occasions his single-handed backhand return just foxed the opponent.

I believe no other stroke comes aesthetically close to this one in tennis. And no other player played it as beautifully and successfully as Edberg did. As the saying goes, ‘they don’t make ‘em like that anymore!

The Awesome Twosome - Greenidge and Haynes

Opening batsmen come in all shapes and sizes. Like Boon and Marsh, for example. They come in distinct styles. Like Gavaskar and Srikkanth. And once in many decades, a pair is born to decimate the opposition with incredible skill, technique and charisma. Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes were two such openers. Both were different as chalk and cheese, but singularly united in sending the red cherry for an unforgiving leather hunt. Time and time again.

Greenidge in full flight was a sight to behold. His hooks and square cuts were mostly pitch perfect, rarely amiss. The power with which the ball was timed was impeccable, and the authority over his bowlers was complete. Like a poignant rabble rouser, Greenidge had the bowling team and the crowds sway to his skill.

Haynes was the quieter one. Less bravado and panache, yet filled with copious talent to match his counterpart. He was Paul McCartney collaborating with John Lennon (that Greenidge was) to compose some of the finest partnership ditties the world has seen.

It’s been a couple of decades since they hung up their boots. Will we see another opening pair like them soon? Perhaps the answer lies in John Lennon’s line, “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one!”