My father told me stories. In 1934, in Calcutta, India faced Douglas Jardine’s England. England scored more than 400. One of India’s openers was the young wicketkeeper Dilawar Hussain, playing his first Test. He was hit on the head by the fearsome Larwood and retired hurt. But he returned, his head bandaged, blood seeping through, and top-scored with 59. India followed on, and were soon in dire straits. Then Dilawar appeared again, this time at five down, and slaughtered the English bowling, scoring a rapidfire 57, including a towering six, and saved the match. Perhaps 30 years after I first heard the story, I checked on cricinfo, and found it to be true (well, mostly; Dilawar was not hit by Larwood, but by Morris Nichols—Larwood wasn’t playing). Dilawar Hussain played only three Tests for India, preferring the academic life, excelling at Cambridge, rising to head a London college, and co-founding the Pakistan Cricket Board. My father’s face would glow with pride whenever he spoke of Dilawar’s lone battle against England, and it was only much later that I realised that, in 1934, he would have been too young to read the papers; he would have also heard the story from older members of his family.