If Virat Kohli knows his history, he will be dreaming of emulating Don Bradman. At any rate, he is going to be constantly reminded of Australia’s feat of winning three Tests in a series in 1936-37 after losing the first two.
Kohli, who came within three runs of scoring a century in each innings at Trent Bridge as India won, is already being compared to Bradman for the ruthlessness of his batting and for being the rock on which the team’s batting rests. The last time India won three Tests in an away series was in New Zealand fifty years ago.
The Don strikes
When Australia lost the first two Tests eight decades ago, Bradman scored 38, 0, 0 and 82 as they were twice dismissed for under 100. “I heard many strong opinions,” wrote Neville Cardus, “to the effect that the great man was on the downward path.” Bradman made 270, 212 and 169 in the next three Tests, finishing with 810 runs and an average of 90.
With the fourth Test at Southampton commencing this week, it might be premature to discuss Kohli’s Indians in the same breath, but I have been reading Australian Summer, Cardus’s book on that unique series, and the similarities are interesting. Rain played an important role in England’s wins. Of the first Test Cardus wrote, “England won easily, thanks in part to the rain which caused the ball to rear geometrically.”
Bradman dropped himself down to number five in the order “to save his assets until the turf lost whatever venom it may have possessed,” wrote Cardus.
Walter Hammond made an unbeaten 231 in the second Test. “The reserve power of his drives was impressive,” wrote Cardus, “his bat was straight and apparently alive with feelers – cat’s whiskers, delicate organs of sensibility.”
And then came Melbourne and the famous sticky (wickets were uncovered). Like in the current series, the media felt at that stage that England were never really good enough to be leading 2-0.
One English player is quoted as saying, “We are getting away with it.” Australia’s 200 looked like a winning total, especially as England slipped to 76 for nine at which point skipper Gubby Allen declared to catch Australia on a dodgy track. Bradman responded by sending out his bowlers Bill O’Reilly and Fleetwood-Smith to open.
As the track eased out, Bradman and Jack Fingleton added a world record 346 for the sixth wicket. Cardus: “Fingleton again played perpendicularly, not obviously thinking of runs, which came to him by a sort of interest on the time accumulated during his stay at the wicket.” Cardus again: “Bradman’s cricket was, in the term of Karl Marx, congealed labour.” Australia made 564 in the second innings, and England, needing 689 to win finished with 323.
The Adelaide Test, the fourth, turned on the fortunes of the two leading opposing batsmen, Bradman and Hammond.
The Englishman was bowled by Fleetwood-Smith thanks to the new lbw law, says Cardus.
A batsman could now be out leg before to a ball pitching outside the off stump, and Hammond, beaten in flight to a Fleetwood-Smith delivery could not simply pad it away.
In reaching forward, he could not cover “both the break-away for which he played, and the break that actually happened.” Hammond was out on 39 with England needing another 244 to win. Bradman “batted grammatically, committed no vanities, “ recorded Cardus.
Enormous appetite
When batsmen have been compared to Bradman, it has been for their enormous appetite for runs. Thus, George Headley, Sunil Gavaskar, Zaheer Abbas, Sachin Tendulkar have at some point been called Bradmanesque.
In England this summer, Kohli has been Bradmanesque not just for his runs, which are substantial enough, or for his appetite, or for his manner of placing efficiency above style, although each is important in this comparison.
I think what is more significant is the description of Bradman in a crisis: “ready, cool and grim.” Those are the words of Cardus, and they apply to Kohli who has been hard on himself, obsessed with team performance, and has placed selflessness and ability to stick it out among the highest virtues.
Thus his support for Hardik Pandya which was repaid in Trent Bridge, and his convincing his batsmen that sometimes it is better to be boring and effective rather than flamboyant and short-lived.
There is too a bloody mindedness that recalls Bradman whom Cardus himself has called a machine and no artist, although in Australian Summer he concedes that “Bradman has not allowed enormous skill to ruin the salt touch of his original self.” This last could apply to Kohli too.
All of this is peeping into the final chapter without knowing what comes next – Southampton. Cricket has a way of mocking those who get ahead of the game.
To quote Cardus one final time, here’s what he had to say about the media on that tour: “Rumour, with a thousand tongues and typewriters, strode the blast.” For rumour, read speculation, and for typewriters, read laptops.
