There are cricket retirements and there are cricket retirements. There are players who represented their countries admirably, fought hard, improved over time, won their fair share of games and then decided to call it quits. Iain O’ Brien, Brett Lee, Russell Arnold, Javagal Srinath.
This is not one of those retirements.
This is the kind where players perform the guard of honour, where cricket boards lay out some lavish celebration that somehow seems inadequate, and where the loss of a single player makes a side look like a shell of what it once was. Australia are still looking for their next Shane Warne. I suggest that Sri Lanka rid themselves of any notion of doing the same for their great spinner. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.
I am by no means suggesting of course that no better spin bowler will ever emerge from Sri Lanka (or elsewhere for that matter). Simply that there has never been, nor will ever be another Murali. Noone whose career will scale the same coveted peaks while at once plumbing those dark, unenviable trenches. Noone who is held by many as the greatest bowler to have ever played the game and simultaneously maligned by others as a miserable cheat who disgraces the sport each time he takes the field.
But this is the thing about Murali. He’s a paradox in every way imaginable. While being held as an unethical crook by many in the cricket universe, his humanitarian contributions in his country will go down as anything but ‘unethical.’ For those disinclined to like him, Murali epitomised the subcontinent’s regrettable political clout in the game. For others his career simply showcased the extent of Australian cricket bullying. The no-ball calls, the incessant chants at Australian cricket grounds and the mud slinging in the press.
He held his head high through all of that.
I won’t spew yet another apologetic defense of the man’s bowling action here, simply because if you still doubt its legality, there is little anyone can do to convince you otherwise. Suffice it to say that far from growing bitter at the flak he has recieved over this issue, Murali did almost everything possible to prove his critics wrong. Some were won over, others - not so much.
Over the years, Murali’s on-field exploits have been thorough to the point of being exhaustive. Both the Test and One Day records for starters. A better average and strike rate than his rival for the spin bowling throne – even if you remove Bangladesh and Zimbabwe from the equation. Way more five and ten wicket hauls than anyone, including a run of four consecutive games of ten-in-a-match, twice. Add to this the fact that the most common dismissal in all of test cricket is
b Muralitharan while the most common fielder-bowler collaboration is
c Jayawardene b Muralitharan and that at some point in his career, Murali has reduced every single batting line-up to rubble, it is actually impossible to even doubt his greatness as a cricketer.
He was influential in Sri Lanka’s proudest achievements as a cricketing nation. The first Test series win overseas, the ’96 World Cup, series wins over England and India, and the two recent World Cup finals appearances. Along with Aravinda, Arjuna, Vaas and Jayasuriya, Murali oversaw Sri Lanka’s transformation from minnows into world beaters, and he was clearly the best of the lot. It’s difficult to see how Sri Lanka will manage without him.
But despite all this, perhaps the best compliment I can pay Murali, is that for all his cricketing records and accolades, his greatest triumphs were off the field. Smiling, approachable and childlike in his enthusiasm, Murali left his swagger on the pitch. Ego was never something you associated with him. Last year at the Champion’s Trophy, an out of form Murali voluntarily left himself out of the starting XI as there was room for only one spinner. Difficult to imagine, seeing as even then, he was the most successful ODI bowler of all time. Gracious, respectful and joyful in everything he did, Murali was a welcome reminder that contrary to the accepted wisdom, nice guys can in fact, finish first.
Then there is the question of his ethnicity. In a country that was torn apart by ethnic conflict for most of his career, Murali came to symbolise what we all hoped Sri Lanka would one day become. The only Tamil in a team full of Sinhalese, he was never regarded as a mascot for the Tamil cause, nor was he a token defence for Sinhalese oppression. When it came to Murali, it seemed that all Sri Lankans were racially blind. The fact that not even the most bigoted members of Sri Lankan society uttered a single bad word about the man is not only testament to the manner in which he went about his art, but also to his ability to symbolise unity in its purest form.
For most cricket fans, Murali is simply a great bowler. For Sri Lankans, he was so much more. He will be remembered in the record books as a legend of spin, but for a war torn Island nation, he was a hero of a far truer sense. A relentless champion in every way imaginable.
Posts
