Rahul Dravid enjoys touring England — his understated, self-deprecatory manner blends right in — but he'd have liked a less exacting time of it, at 38.
Thus far, he has been asked to keep wicket, open the innings, and face the press after the Ian Bell incident. None of these is pleasant; the risk far outweighs the reward. But it seems the only time Dravid calculates equations of risk and reward is when he subjects deliveries to austere scrutiny — during the actual act of batting.
Every time something not entirely pleasant needs doing, Dravid, to borrow one of his pet phrases, “puts his hand up”. Many great cricketers have held the view that what's good for them is good for the team; but Dravid — like V.V.S. Laxman, Sachin Tendulkar, and Anil Kumble — has worn his greatness selflessly.
There's a reason middle-order batsmen, however good their technique, are loath to open. They aren't used to its many intangible demands.
There's a subtle difference between walking out at once and batting one-drop, even if you're in second ball.
“I have grown up, a middle-order batsman,” said Dravid, explaining it. “All my routines have been set for so many years. One of the things I find is when there is a 10-minute period, I am rushed. At one-down, sometimes I could be in after the first ball, but I would have had some breathing space, maybe 15-20 minutes.”
At least at Trent Bridge, unlike at Lord's, Dravid knew before the Test that he had to open. He could prepare accordingly. Once he had dealt with the particulars of opening, of stilling the rush, he could trust his natural game. It's a style fashioned from patience.
“I have been lucky with my temperament when it comes to batting,” he said. “I recognise I have to bat for a long time to score runs. I can't score boundaries like Sehwag, Sachin or Laxman. Over the years I have practised it. Every time I do it, I get better at it.”
Tight technique
The key to batting time is tight defensive technique — which, however, is nothing without the ability to leave the ball. It's this ability that has so despaired England's bowlers, who have confessed they are sick of bowling to him.
Important art
“When you come to England you know that leaving the ball is an important art,” said Dravid. “Standing in the slips, I have watched English players bat on their wickets and seen what kinds of length they leave. Then you obviously have to practise it in the nets. When you are in form and playing well, your judgement is better and confident.”
Not that he hasn't played and missed or nicked behind. He has had the fortune needed to survive, but more often than not he has allowed dangerous deliveries to spend their spite; he hasn't involved himself in the transaction.
The other impressive facet of Dravid's batting in the two Tests was the strokeplay. During his incredible run between 2000 and 2006, when he averaged nearly 62 in 72 Tests, he was denying himself less; he scored more than half his career's fours and 10 of the 19 sixes in this time. He's taken a few more risks here in England, staying beside the line more often than is customary for him, to harness the ball's pace.
A lot of it has to do with the ball staying harder for longer on the lush grounds here and bouncing higher from the pitches: it opens up Dravid's back-foot game, which has more scoring strokes — the cut, the pull, which he doesn't bring out as often these days, the flick off the hip, and the steer, which he's used to great effect here.
Boundary-hitting in India, especially when the ball softens, demands a rapid acceleration of the hands through the ball, not his strongest quality.
What will satisfy Dravid and his fans the most about the two centuries is the context: they've come against a disciplined, hostile, penetrative attack in difficult conditions. In the dark days of 2007 and 2008 (1411 run from 25 Tests at 32), such innings were rare. His subsequent renaissance was largely against lesser attacks. The centuries here brought to mind Dravid in his diligent pomp.
“I have had really high moments but also some lows, during which I have doubted myself,” said Dravid. “But I love batting. That's something that has never gone away from me. I could always find joy in going to the nets and batting. A lot of Test cricket is about balancing your emotions. Once you leave after the day's play at 7, it's how you take cricket away from your mind. Over the years I have got better at that.”
Discordant note
The lone discordant note is defeat: only one of Dravid's 32 centuries before this tour had come in a losing cause; it's now three of 34. He'll be doing everything in his power to ensure it doesn't happen again. But he'll only get by with a little help from his friends.
