Indeed, Dravid’s all-round ability to come through the most testing circumstance without a trace of nerves has won him the nickname of The Wall. After his performance at Headingley this should be amended to ‘The Fort-ress’ with the tricolour aloft, due to his ability to prop up an innings when all seemed lost. In recent times every big score by him has been meaningful, for it has usually saved a match or opened the gates to victory.Dravid has displayed a stubborn refusal to be cowed down by adverse circumstances. During the Trent Bridge Test he was hit on the visor of his helmet by a bouncer from Hoggard. A lesser batsman may have flinched when facing the next ball, but Dravid hit it to the square leg boundary. It was as if he subscribed to W.G. Grace’s dictum: "There is no crisis while batting; only the next ball has to be faced."
Dravid’s ability to keep his emotions under control places him above the common run of players. Even the most placid and equable of men would have bridled and reacted violently to the rude manner in which the Australian fielder Michael Slater harassed and heckled him during the first Test at Mumbai. But Dravid kept his cool to win universal support.It is this ability to stand up to external pressure and bear the heat and the burden of the day that makes Dravid the exceptional player he is. It can be seen in his upright stance, style and technique which seem to be based on the mcc manual of coaching, but the traditional streak—inherited from the day Ranji came on the scene to patent it—shows when he plays the delicate leg glance and the attractive flick to mid-wicket off a ball pitched near his pads.
It is said that the observant England coach David Lloyd noticed that Dravid’s weakness lay in working straight balls to the leg. Such expertise could bewilder the layman and television commentators are bound to confuse him further, for there is one section which admires his mastery over anything pitched on his leg stump, while another school goes into raptures over his response to balls that give him space to play his offside strokes. Indeed for the common man it suffices that Dravid responds readily to any ball which is within reach of his bat. He is one of these rare players who makes the leg-side stroke look as pleasing as the one that is played on the off-side.
Having graduated in economics from Bangalore University and grown up with G.R. Vishwanath and Brijesh Patel as mentors, Dravid is a cerebral player who is dedicated to the game. By training he has learnt to listen to advice from his peers. It is said that on a visit to Toronto he buttonholed Ian Chappell at a party and quizzed him for an hour about the fundamentals of batsmanship.
Dravid’s reaction on missing his first Test century in the Lord’s Test of the 1996 series in England by just five runs was typical of the man. "It hurts," he said, "but it’s no good thinking about it." Something had to be done. So he consulted his coach, the late Keki Tarapore, to iron out the defects in his technique. It was not so much his game but his temperament that seemed to be at fault.
And so Dravid had to wait till the tour of New Zealand and South Africa in 1996-97 to make it a habit of holding on till he had secured this distinction. He made 190 in the Test at Hamilton against New Zealand, but received little praise for his achievement. Indeed, he gained the reputation of being a slow and unimaginative batsman.
Fortunately, however, there was a limit to what the flamboyant dashers in the side could achieve and he regained the trust of the selectors for the successive tours to South Africa and the West Indies. He was also restored to his original batting slot of number three/four and, coming up the order, he redeemed his reputation by scoring 148 in the Johannesburg Test, which but for a rainstorm could well have been India’s for the asking. Rahul went on to the West Indies to further his reputation as innings builder and to top the Test averages.
The stage was now set for the World Cup near the turn of the century. He finished the tournament on his own terms—at the top of the averages with two centuries, against Kenya and Sri Lanka, and two half centuries against England and Pakistan. He was now accepted as Tendulkar’s equal in the matter of scoring both heavily and quickly while building his innings. His ability to score runs and do so attractively was widely noticed and he was signed up by Kent, a county known for encouraging batsmen with a sense of style.
Dravid’s quiet unobtrusive personality also won him friends in the county. He did not crib about the weather and the wickets, or the food and the accommodation. Within 24 hours of his arrival at Heathrow, he turned out for the county and scored 70-odd runs in a pleasing manner. But what he prized at the end of the season were the wickets of Alec Stewart and Ben Hollioake with sharp off-breaks—again proof of his many accomplishments.Dravid declared in an interview that he had come to play for Kent because he had been told that county cricket "teaches you so much about yourself as a cricketer and also as a person".
This makes it obvious that, apart from being just a cricketer out of the ordinary, Dravid is a personality with a brain which ticks and which takes in not merely what presents itself to the eye.
Dravid’s alter ego and rival in run-getting, Sachin Tendulkar, in an advertisement for mrf Tyres, speaks of the importance of power, balance and the ability to launch. Power and balance are the chief features of Dravid’s cricket. What is needed now? His grim face should break out in smiles—if not laughter.
