
The Pataudi Trophy has a new name, but we should remember what he stood for
“What’s in a name?” asks the Bard, dismissively.
“What things are called is unspeakably more important than what they are,” counters Nietzsche, while not disputing the sweet smell of a rose by another name.
Nietzsche was not talking about cricket, but he had a point. Consider the Pataudi Trophy, awarded to the victor of India-England Test series contested in England. Starting this summer, the winner will receive the Tendulkar-Anderson Trophy. But why not the Anderson-Tendulkar Trophy? Robotic alphabetic convention can neatly sidestep national pride issues, as with the Border-Gavaskar Trophy. Presumably, the ECB recognised where power resides and compromised. Vastly different from the height of the Empire in 1932, which is when our story unfolds.
Iftikhar Ali Khan was the eighth Nawab of Pataudi, now part of buzzy Gurgaon. Pataudi was a poly-athlete who made his mark at Oxford—he read history at Balliol—by clocking 100 metres in under 10 seconds when that meant something. He went on to earn Blues for hockey and cricket. Pataudi had attitude to complement his talent. In the 1931 annual Varsity Match at Lord’s, Alan Ratcliffe scored an impressive 201 for Cambridge in the first innings. “A fine innings, but I can go one better,” said the Nawab. He did. An unbeaten 238 which Wisden called “majestic” while noting Pataudi’s “perfect judgement and timing.”
After scoring 1307 runs for Oxford at a Bradmanesque average of 93, the 22-year-old Pataudi made his England debut against Australia, playing his first Test at Sydney in early 1933. He batted at Number 4 and scored 102. According to Wisden, he played with “quiet authority” and his innings was “one of the best seen by an English batsman in Australia that winter.” In a team that included all-time greats Sutcliffe and Hammond. After the match, Pataudi asked Aussie umpire George Hele for a bail as a keepsake. Hele did better and offered him a match ball. The grateful Nawab presented Hele with a gold wristwatch. Noblesse oblige.
But the Sydney Test was historic for a different reason. For the first time, MCC captain Douglas Jardine deployed his controversial ‘Bodyline’ strategy. Led by Bradman, the Aussies had won the Ashes in 1930, with the great one scoring two double centuries and a triple hundred. The English were unaccustomed and sore losers. To combat the greatest run machine in history, Jardine, the patrician from Winchester and Oxford and captain of the MCC, became a thuggish street fighter. Worse, he deployed Harold Larwood, his strike bowler and a coal miner’s son, to do his dirty work. Since they couldn’t get him out, England decided to intimidate Bradman by bowling at his body—in an era without helmets—with a packed leg side field. Aussie wicketkeeper Bert Oldfield suffered a cracked skull. Captain Bill Woodfull was hit above the heart but refused to retaliate. “There are two teams out there. One is playing cricket. The other is not,” he famously said. Bradman ducked into a short ball and was bowled off his body at Melbourne, but scored an unbeaten century in the second innings and averaged 57 for the series anyway.
Hammond was privately critical but did not raise his voice. Gubby Allen refused to bowl at the body, but the ‘Englishman’ who confronted Jardine most directly was our man from Gurgaon. He refused to field at leg slip and did not join team huddles when Aussie wickets fell. “I see His Highness is a conscientious objector,” quipped Jardine, mockingly.
Jardine did not eject Allen, who was as much establishment as he was, but turned his ire on Pataudi, who was not just colourful but, in the eyes of the Bombay-born Jardine, coloured. He dropped Pataudi. At the end of the tour, the Nawab had this to say about his captain. “I am told he has his good points. In three months, I have yet to see them.”
Shamefully, the MCC made Larwood the scapegoat and demanded he apologise. Larwood refused, saying he merely followed orders. He never played for England again. Ironically, he emigrated to Australia where Jardine remains the most vilified Englishman. Bradman, of course, kept on doing Bradman things.
The rule changes following Bodyline survive. Only two fielders can be behind square on the leg side and onfield umpires can intervene to prevent dangerous bowling.
As for our hero, he captained India against England at Lord’s in 1946 and became the only player to represent both England and India. But at this point he was 36, and past his prime. His legacy was proudly maintained by the dashing ‘Tiger’ Pataudi. Like his father, Tiger was a middle-order batsman—evidently, nobility favours batting over bowling—who led India to its first overseas Test victory. There is no record of Tiger presenting gold watches to umpires, but, remarkably, he played 46 Tests after losing his right eye in a car accident at age 21.
Tendulkar and Anderson are names writ large in record books and will never be forgotten. But the Pataudi name stands for something that, in the words of Nietzsche, is “unspeakably important”. We should remember it.
Disclaimer
Views expressed above are the author’s own.
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