75 YEARS AFTER BODYLINE

The late 1980s. I was hooked on to cricket and vaguely heard about a Don Bradman way back in the past with an average that was well, Bradmanesque.

Then Doordarshan stepped in and the word of Bradman was made flesh and dwelt among us in our living rooms. Only that it was a Bradman shorn of myth and instead facing mortal peril. The stage being the infamous Bodyline series of 1932-33.

The objects of hate to my impressionable eyes were the sinister-looking English captain Douglas Jardine and his instrument of doom Harold Larwood. The two villains with the motive of stopping Bradman at any cost. And Larwood pounded the pitch with scary thunderbolts aimed at the body, with a clutch of fielders behind the leg stump. The Australians wilted, their captain Bill Woodfull hit on the chest by Larwood and Bradman managing just one hundred. The result: 4-1 England.

Another enduring image is of an England batsman badly sick and struggling in the dressing room, while the England innings was collapsing. Jardine virtually forced him out to bat and there he was, scoring runs aplenty and bailing England out. Much later, I realised the batsman was Eddie Paynter.

Paynter owed a lot to the 'conscientious objector' to Bodyline, the Nawab of Pataudi. Pataudi started firmly with a century in the first test, but as the Bodyline clouds enveloped the field, he was shown as opposing Jardine's plans. Which meant Pataudi took an early bow.

The serial ended with images of what happened later to the principal players. I remember feeling gladdened by the fact that after the 'vile triumph' Jardine faced brickbats in England, and didn't play too much after. Harold Larwood never played international cricket again, and in the ultimate irony, ended up settling in Australia. And Don Bradman went on amassing runs unhindered, to reach the Bradmanesque average of 99.94.

But now, 75 years after October 1932, when the English touring party landed in Australia, it's time for less outrage and a bit of grudging admiration for Douglas Jardine. Inhuman as it may have been, Bodyline was a tactical masterstroke which achieved the twin objectives of an Ashes victory and containing the rampaging Don.

And how can you not conceal a sense of admiration for someone who never flinched when given a taste of his own medicine? In 1933, Jardine made his only test hundred at Old Trafford against the West Indies , grinding out 127 in five hours battling Bodyline tactics employed by Learie Constantine and Manny Martindale.

Let's also spare a thought for Harold Larwood, the former coal-miner, who refused to apologise to a holier-than-thou administration and hence never got to play for England again.

As for Pataudi, he kept a distance from the fledgling Indian side of the 1930s and captained India much later in 1946 (in England) when he was way past his prime.

Leg theory was banned but intimidatory fast bowling continues to mesmerise and horrify. From Lillee and Thomson for the Aussies to the West Indian pace quartet of the 1970s and 1980s, the legacy of Bodyline lives on.

And here's a trivia question gauging the impact of Bodyline.

Q: The publication of the first supplement of the Oxford Dictionary was postponed for one particular reason. What?

Hint: It was published in 1933. The delay was to include the definition of a new word (a cricketing term)