Madhav Apte played seven Test matches, faced champion seam bowlers like Fazal Mahmood, crafty spinners like Sonny Ramadhin and Alf Valentine, and scored 542 runs with a century against the West Indies at Port-of-Spain in 1953. Why he was dropped after 1953 has remained a mystery for six decades and more. “The national and Bombay selectors were whimsical, otherwise why should 49 cricketers play only one Test match,” says Apte, 83, during the course of a two-hour conversation at the Bombay Gymkhana. He touches upon cricket in the first half of the 20th century and thereafter, talks about some giants of the game, including Col. CK Nayudu, and wonders why today’s cricketers get angry and demonstrate publicly. Regarded as the ‘walking compendium’ of Indian cricket, he recalls nuggets from a glorious era in his own inimitable way, sufficiently conveying the romantic aspect of the game.
Apte, who attributes everything to luck, says: “I saw Cecil Pepper hit leg-spinner Subhash Gupte over the roof and on to the Veer Nariman Road.”
Excerpts
His fledgling days in the game
In the mid-1940s, the Apte family moved to Peddar Road, where we bought a large property. It had a small cricket pitch. It was in 1947 that I started stroking the ball. One of our tenants was from the Bhatia family, and Vijay Merchant and Uday Merchant were first cousins. Vijay bhai played at our court occasionally. My father and I would have seen Pentangular cricket from its inception till the end. Then the Children’s Academy, where I went initially, was taken over by the government and I moved to Wilson School, which was keen on cricket and this gave me a chance to play Giles Shield. When I got 10 wickets for 10 runs for Wilson School, it pushed my career. I did not have a coach. Things were quite different then; the greatest enthusiast in the school was the peon, Sadashiv. He was the soul of the game of cricket. Wilson HS was a Scottish Presbyterian school, and it encouraged cricket to the extent that at the start of every year in June, every classroom would have a wooden box with a cricket kit in it. So, that’s how I got a kick-start into cricket.
On leg-spin-googly bowling
I was only 4 feet 10 inches, not well-built and strong. Secondly, it must have been the influence of watching the Pentangulars, and CS Nayudu and Amir Elahi (both were leg-break bowlers). But that’s the only year (1944-45) I bowled with success. Then, when I grew tall, I lost my touch for leg-spin; what used to be a good length turned out to be full tosses. I must have lost the ‘loop’ when I gained height.
Biggest influence
Vijay Merchant. He was very accessible. He played occasionally with us. When I won the junior tennis doubles at the PJ Hindu Gymkhana in 1948 and went to receive the prize, he asked me: “Madhav, which game are you going to pursue. Is it cricket or tennis? I was lucky with my choice and I hope you will be lucky with yours”. He knew my cricketing background. Luckily, I also chose cricket.
First club match
It was for Jolly cricketers in 1946-47. In those days, the major tournament was the Purshottam Shield for the Hindus, Pastakia Shield for the Parsees, and Islam Gymkhana held a tournament for the Muslims. The Sunday matches were called friendly matches. The Bombay Cricket Association used to hold a meeting of all club secretaries at the PJ Hindu Gymkhana in May. It’s like match-making with the Secretaries, with a calendar for the year to arrange matches. This was a part of Bombay’s cricket culture.
Debut for Bombay
Most sportspersons had a purple patch in 1951-52. I scored more than 3000 runs. The Combined Universities team was to go to Poona and the Bombay Ranji Trophy selection was to take place. The Bombay team comprised Mantri, Merchant, Mankad, Modi, Phadkar, Ramchand, Vijay Manjrekar, and Sohoni. It was such a powerful team. I was hoping to be in the 14, but I came to know from the newspapers that I was not picked. I was disappointed, not hurt. But then, Merchant hurt himself in the nets before the match against Saurashtra. I was the standby opening batsman for that match and opened the innings with Mohini Amladi. I scored a century on debut.
Match against Holkar in the first Ranji final
I was batting on 63 when I started getting cramps. I walked up to Mantri and told him: “George, I am getting cramps”. The Indian team was to be picked for the tour of England in 1952 and Mantri felt that I could have a chance. Mantri suggested that I should not make obvious my predicament as Col. CK Nayudu, captain of Holkar, a fitness freak, may think that I was unfit. I carried on till 98, but was in pain. Subhash Gupte and I were not picked for the tour.
Playing for India, and facing Fazal Mahmood
I played in the third Test at the Brabourne Stadium. Pakistan batted first in that Test, but before the toss Lala Amarnath asked Mankad what he should do if he won the toss. Those days, wickets were uncovered and there was heavy dewfall. Mankad’s advise was, “Put them in”. But those days, it was almost mandatory that if you won the toss, you batted. Luckily for Amarnath, Kardar won the toss and elected to bat. They were six down before lunch and we won that Test. If we had batted first, Fazal, on a wicket like that, would have been a more difficult proposition than when I had faced him actually. Fazal was good at cutters that moved off the seam.
On Vinoo Mankad and Kapil Dev
I would regard Kapil as the best opening bowler post-partition; having watched him, I would say probably he’s the greatest opening bowler. As a batsman, Kapil did make runs. So, his claim to being an all-rounder is well-established. But Vinoo Mankad scored centuries against Australia, England and New Zealand, and hence as a batsman he would have been far superior. Also, he opened the innings. When it comes to fielding, Kapil would be a notch or two better than Vinoo, who was a fine fielder off his own bowling. Coming to bowling again, Vinoo bowled to Frank Worrell, Everton Weekes, Clyde Walcott, Don Bradman, Arthur Morris, Bill Brown, Len Hutton, Cyril Washbrook and Denis Compton. Vinoo would probably have a marginal edge between the two.
On Col. CK Nayudu
He was exceptionally talented, but very stubborn. He believed that no bowler was fast enough for him. It was my first Ranji Trophy final, and Mankad and Phadkar had something against him. As CK was walking out to bat, he was 57 then, I heard Mankad telling Phadkar, “Bhude kho bouncer dhena”. On cue, CK wanted to show no one was good enough for him. He stepped out and Phadkar bowled a bouncer. It knocked CK’s teeth off. He spat them out. After all, CK was CK and we all ran towards him. He shooed us away with the bat, took guard and made 66 glorious runs. He was dictatorial as a captain. He was like a General, not to be questioned. He was aggressive to the point of being at fault.
On the seven Ranji Trophy triumphs (two each against Holkar and Rajasthan, one each against Bengal, Mysore and Madras)
I think one has to look at it in proper perspective. Firstly, the game had not spread across the country, and then West Zone was a good region. Holkar, Madras and Bengal had good teams. If you won the West Zone, you virtually won the Ranji title or certainly reached the final. Bombay was a strong team and this was because we played a lot more cricket than the others. If practice made one perfect, that’s what Bombay did then.
Changes he sees in the sport now
The big change I have to say is that somewhere the spirit of the game, culture of the game, ethos of the game is getting lost. As a student of sociology, I could go on analysing it — environmental differences, advent of TV and money in the game. I also think sportsmanship, and to have respect for the opponent. I am not suggesting even for a moment that incidents did not happen in our times. Getting angry and demonstrative after getting a wicket were all unheard of. At the most, Eric Hollies was gently congratulated after he dismissed Don Bradman in his last innings; there was no back-slapping at all. The gentlemanly character of the game is missing somewhere.
On cricket administration
I enjoy the game and I would like to think that I am a student of the game even today. Administrative lapses are only seen through the selection process. There were whimsical selections then; why should 49 cricketers play just one Test match. That’s a reflection on the selectors and the entire selection process. Maybe, it’s happening now to a much lesser extent. And that’s because of the visibility of the selectors through the media. Whether there is money involved or not, I would think not.
