His flamboyance at the crease was an antithesis of a Bombay batsman. For Sandeep Patil, batting was a tool of entertainment regardless of the opposition. Today, cooking is his first love, having produced a series on his art in the kitchen.
Did he aim to become a different batsman than the dour types that Bombay produced relentlessly? “It was natural. You have seen different cricketers from all over India. You know we have to shape ourselves. For me, captain was everything. Sunil (Gavaskar) was a blessing for all of us. I didn’t deliberately try to be flamboyant. It was my style. Whatever little I played I enjoyed.”
Patil faced bowling terrors like Jeff Thomson and Dennis Lillee without helmets. “I feel privileged to have played against greats like Andy Roberts, Michael Holding, Malcolm Marshall, Bob Willis, Imran Khan, Ian Botham, Joel Garner, Rodney Hogg. It seems a dream now,” reflects the dashing cricketer when we met for lunch at The Creative Kitchen (TCK) at the Radisson in Noida Sector 55. TCK excels in Indian, western and oriental food, with live music an added attraction.
Patil loves the ambience of the restaurant – spacious and flooded with natural light. I first watched his epic 174 of Adelaide 1981 on TV at his home in Dadar. The ease with which he savaged Lillee and Pascoe was breath-taking. “Great eye and tremendous pair of wrists,” exclaimed Richie Benaud on air as Patil timed his shots with perfection. During the tea break, Don Bradman turned up in the dressing room to tell him, “I loved your knock. You must continue to bat like this.” As Patil avers, “You can’t ask for more?”
From floppy hat to helmet was a quick adjustment for Patil. Hit by Len Pascoe and Hogg in the preceding Test at Sydney , he roared back with a sensational assault on the Australian bowlers after taking guard at 130 for four in reply to home team’s 528.
“It was not that I decided to wear or not to wear the helmet. I had no option after getting hit. Cricket has undergone tremendous change. Only the stumps, bat and ball have remained the same. It’s a good change, different formats, more money, brilliant marketing by BCCI, Indian team is doing well. It won’t be right for me to say my era was superior. You must learn to accept and adapt. We had no coach, no support staff. Today the support staff size is the same as team members,” says Patil, who enjoyed the distinction of leading teams which had Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar in the playing XI.
Executive chef Sujeet Singh suggests a variety of dishes but Patil is measured. “I eat light. No juices. I’ll have soup.” He prefers chicken sweet corn soup and takes a peep into the past. “I was a backbencher, afraid of answering anything, even my name. I think it was stupid. I missed out acquiring knowledge because I would never ask. I always welcome questions. I was not shy but I was afraid. You have to be confident. All great leaders and orators became great because they had the courage to ask. I was lacking in it. In my early cricket days I would sit in the corner in the dressing room. You can learn only when you ask.”
Patil’s lunch is a platter of chicken and fish. “Superb it is,” he mumbles as bites into the delicious spread. On today’s cricket, Patil is full of praise for the youngsters. “They are always under pressure to deliver. I feel the focus and tensions are more now than earlier because the expectations have grown very high. In our days we had lot of freedom, have pranks, go out in the evening. Not now. Hard to compare. Today the facilities have improved tremendously. The BCCI has done well to popularise and conduct the game so well.”
The decline in spectator response for Test cricket worries Patil. “It will be sad if Test cricket has to suffer. Test cricket tests your character. I hope BCCI, ICC work on reviving the popularity of cricket. Now we have T20 and T10. I don’t know where cricket would go.”
Attacking the non-veg platter with gusto, Patil talks about his best innings. “My Ranji Trophy innings against Mumbai (for Madhya Pradesh). We were 40 for five and from there I scored 175 and took MP to 360. I had retired from Test cricket and was a professional for MP (thanks to Madhavrao Scindia). It helped me in understanding the meaning of responsibility. I never carried any responsibility when I was playing. I was a carefree person but responsibility changed my thinking. I had to think for the others too. It changed me as a person. Apart from the 174, the 129 (at Old Trafford in 1982) against England (six fours in an over against Bob Willis) was special.”
Multi-faceted personality
Patil has been a multi-faceted personality. “My father once said, “Life is short. Enjoy it.” I cut a disc, acted in a film, played cricket, edited a magazine (Ekach Shatkaar), learnt to cook. It has been a different experience which taught me lot of things. I am lucky I got so many opportunities. I thank BCCI for grooming me as a coach – from under-19 and then the senior team. I headed the National Cricket Academy thanks to N. Srinivasan and Shashank Manohar for having faith in me. Coaching Kenya was different. Coaching established players was different from coaching players who want to establish themselves. I learnt it from my MP experience.”
He loved his stint in Kenya. “Kenya, though we reached the 2003 World Cup, was mixed. Kenyans have a heart of gold. My liking for cooking started from Kenya. All my friends (RC Bhalla especially) would have these cookouts. They call it Koroga (dining outdoors on Indian cuisine). I got hooked on to it. I was used to getting food on the table and not putting food on the table. So Kenya will always be memorable.”
Gavaskar always jokes, “In Kenya, lions come to see Patil.” He laughs, “I know. I am an outdoor man. I love safaris. I like wilderness, parks. As a school kid I would spend hours watching the animals in the zoo. I love nature. The 18 years I spent in Kenya for cricket developed my love for wild life.”
Lot of former cricketers rave about his cooking. “I am restless if I am not in the kitchen. My eyes light up if I see a kitchen. It’s a great pastime, from buying the ingredients, cleaning them, chopping them, making them, serving them, and then doing the dishes. It’s like a process in cricket, start from school and go on to play for the country. You have to feel it, understand the stuff. My kitchen is my own. No one in my family can fiddle with my cutlery. I don’t like anyone to help me in the kitchen. It is an addiction actually.”
Beginning with omelette, Patil has now grown into a cook who can make 200 dishes. “All my mates have enjoyed my cooking. In my house or on tours. Four years ago, in England, I had to cook for Jimmy (Mohinder Amarnath) and Dilip (Vengsarkar). I remember making chicken and prawns. Once in South Africa I cooked for 100 guests. The great Graeme Pollock was one of them. I made chicken curry, prawns and Maharashtrian dal (aamti). Sharmila Tagore went gaga on my aamti. It was like being patted after scoring a century. I am always looking for someone to come to my place. Open invitation. My wife (Deepa) is a better cook,” he smiles.
Cooking and television keep Patil busy. “I never used to sleep when I was playing. Now I only sleep. From 1994, when I was appointed as India junior coach, I go to sleep at 8.15 p.m. almost every day. I love my cars (Merc, Fortuna, Nissan). I enjoy my outings and long drives with my wife,” says Patil. His elder son, Chirag, is waiting to make a mark as an actor. “He has four films on the floor. My younger son, Prateek, is a budding director having worked with Vidhu Vinod Chopra and Zoya Akhtar.”
Settled in Lavasa, near Pune, in his sprawling villa, Patil, 61, concludes, “I was not a bright student. I stood first from bottom. But life has been good. I have no regrets.” His fans would disagree. He ought to have played more than the 29 Tests and 45 ODIs that he eventually did.
