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Pataudi: Nawab of Cricket
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- GenresNonfictionIndiaSports
186 pages, Hardcover
First published May 1, 2013
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January 17, 2021
Former England captain, the late Trevor Bailey, once predicted that the ninth Nawab of Pataudi would turn out to be as prodigious and incandescent as Sir Garfield Sobers. As a school boy at Winchester, this talented son of an illustrious father (Iftikhar Ali Khan Pataudi, along with Ranjitsinhji and Duleepsinhji were the only cricketers to have donned the national colours of both England and India in cricket), set the turf alight by going on to break every perceivable record, including that held by Douglas Jardine for the most number of runs. Then misfortune and fate contrived to put paid to what otherwise would have been a sparkling career. A car accident left him completely devoid of eyesight in his right eye. In his typical undaunted fashion, ‘Tiger’ – as he was fondly addressed by teammates and friends alike – shrugged this tragedy aside and went on to change the very façade of Indian cricket in more ways than one, ways the impact of which reverberate even to this day.
In this short compilation, edited by the preternatural cricket writer Suresh Menon, glorious facets of this gallant beacon of Indian cricket are revealed to an excited reader. What makes this book all the more relevant is the fact that it is more a clinical dissection of the genius of the man both on and off the field, than a forced panegyric. Contributors include Tiger Pataudi’s contemporaries as well as opponents. There is a stirring and poignant foreword penned by Tiger’s wife, Sharmila Tagore, not to mention two equally eloquent reminiscences, courtesy his daughters Saba and Soha Ali Khan.
Vijay Merchant, one of India’s earliest batting greats and also former Chairman of selectors recounts the unfortunate and untimely circumstance that led Tiger Pataudi to assume the mantle of captain at a tender age of twenty one. Selected as an understudy to Nari Contractor on the Caribbean tour of 1962, Pataudi was reluctantly thrust into the limelight when a nasty bouncer by Charlie Griffith not only felled Contractor but also ended his career. Thus, a young scion was left to handle experienced cricketers older than him by almost two decades. What happened next was the stuff of legends. As Bishen Singh Bedi, that glorious off spinner, remembers, Pataudi became the glue that bound the players together. In an era where provincialism and geography mattered more than meritocracy and mettle, Pataudi drilled into his team the singularly necessary mindset that it was an Indian team, and not a Karnataka, or a Tamil Nadu or a Delhi team.
He was also a captain who walked the talk. Never one to take refuge behind his irreversible handicap, he adjusted and adapted his game to overcome adversity in a manner only he could have conceived. The result was a few innings of spectacular import and gravity. The feisty and scrappy Australian Ian Chappell writes with a sense of awe on one such essay of absolute class and calculated risk taking that left an Australian attack dumbstruck. In the 1967 Melbourne Test, Pataudi already hampered by a serious leg injury dragged his visage to the crease after an attack led by McKenzie had India in absolute tatters at 25 for 5. Pataudi decided to take the bowling by the scruff of its neck and proceeded to score an imperious 75. With one temporarily nonfunctional leg and a permanently impaired eye, the nawab had proceeded to provide a regal exhibition. Similarly, Ray Robinson waxes eloquent over the 203 not out amassed against Mike Smith’s touring squad in the 1964 series. After ploughing through 97 overs for his century, the nawab cut loose and ravaged the English attack comprising of Parfitt and Smith, among others to smash 103 runs off only 40 overs. If this reads absurd to the unsuspected, living in the age of instant gratification and immediate results, this was an era where ODIs were not even a concept, let alone T20.
Pataudi was also a fielder par excellence. Constantly on the prowl, the cover area was his kingdom and he was the unsurpassed monarch of all he surveyed. Quicksilver to the ball and possessing a bullet throw, he was a veritable nemesis to the quick single. However, after his calamitous accident, he could no longer rule the roost close-in. As was his innate wont, he converted this impediment into an opportunity and became Indian cricket’s best outfielder.
Pataudi was also not beyond the occasional prank. Possessing a wicked sense of humour, he could be a nightmare for an innocuous teammate. During the course of a Caribbean tour, Pataudi and Farokh Engineer put on Caribbean accents, telephoned their teammates in the rooms and clamoured for everyone to rush to the reception in whatever garb they were attired in, since a hurricane was headed their way. “The sight of a bunch of Indians in their pyjamas, dhotis and shorts searching for a hurricane in the reception area….was one of the highlights of a tour where we lost all five Tests.”
When it came to tactical acumen, Pataudi was way ahead of his time. When conventional and received wisdom dictated the presence of two seamers, irrespective of quality (or an absolute lack of it) and two spinning options, Pataudi upended conventions by fielding a troika or even a quartet of spinners! Even if wicket keeper batsman Budhi Kunderan had to wield the new ball just so that it becomes old, then so be it. The outcome: a spinning quartet of vintage quality the likes of which had never been seen before and would arguably be never seen again. Bishan Singh Bedi, Erapalli Prasanna, Bhagawat Chandrasekhar and Srinivas Venkatraghavan were all provided wings by Pataudi to soar hard and high and by Jove, did they soar!
As Rahul Dravid informs the reader, Pataudi also fought for the player’s cause and was at the forefront of an attempt to form a players’ association. Even though such an endeavour did not come to fruition, its objective was more or less accomplished with the Board enhancing the remuneration and compensation of the players.
The book contains a plethora of anecdotes and is permeated with enduring memories. While the book might have contributed a lot in dispelling a great deal of reverential myth associated with Pataudi the man, it also embellished in great deal the aura – deserving by every stretch of imagination – attached to Pataudi the cricketer. Every contributor seems to have endorsed a universal attribute of pride and fortune that ensured that they were in some manner or other tied together with a colossus who strode through the world of cricket. A true prince in philosophy, principles, practice and pedigree.
In this short compilation, edited by the preternatural cricket writer Suresh Menon, glorious facets of this gallant beacon of Indian cricket are revealed to an excited reader. What makes this book all the more relevant is the fact that it is more a clinical dissection of the genius of the man both on and off the field, than a forced panegyric. Contributors include Tiger Pataudi’s contemporaries as well as opponents. There is a stirring and poignant foreword penned by Tiger’s wife, Sharmila Tagore, not to mention two equally eloquent reminiscences, courtesy his daughters Saba and Soha Ali Khan.
Vijay Merchant, one of India’s earliest batting greats and also former Chairman of selectors recounts the unfortunate and untimely circumstance that led Tiger Pataudi to assume the mantle of captain at a tender age of twenty one. Selected as an understudy to Nari Contractor on the Caribbean tour of 1962, Pataudi was reluctantly thrust into the limelight when a nasty bouncer by Charlie Griffith not only felled Contractor but also ended his career. Thus, a young scion was left to handle experienced cricketers older than him by almost two decades. What happened next was the stuff of legends. As Bishen Singh Bedi, that glorious off spinner, remembers, Pataudi became the glue that bound the players together. In an era where provincialism and geography mattered more than meritocracy and mettle, Pataudi drilled into his team the singularly necessary mindset that it was an Indian team, and not a Karnataka, or a Tamil Nadu or a Delhi team.
He was also a captain who walked the talk. Never one to take refuge behind his irreversible handicap, he adjusted and adapted his game to overcome adversity in a manner only he could have conceived. The result was a few innings of spectacular import and gravity. The feisty and scrappy Australian Ian Chappell writes with a sense of awe on one such essay of absolute class and calculated risk taking that left an Australian attack dumbstruck. In the 1967 Melbourne Test, Pataudi already hampered by a serious leg injury dragged his visage to the crease after an attack led by McKenzie had India in absolute tatters at 25 for 5. Pataudi decided to take the bowling by the scruff of its neck and proceeded to score an imperious 75. With one temporarily nonfunctional leg and a permanently impaired eye, the nawab had proceeded to provide a regal exhibition. Similarly, Ray Robinson waxes eloquent over the 203 not out amassed against Mike Smith’s touring squad in the 1964 series. After ploughing through 97 overs for his century, the nawab cut loose and ravaged the English attack comprising of Parfitt and Smith, among others to smash 103 runs off only 40 overs. If this reads absurd to the unsuspected, living in the age of instant gratification and immediate results, this was an era where ODIs were not even a concept, let alone T20.
Pataudi was also a fielder par excellence. Constantly on the prowl, the cover area was his kingdom and he was the unsurpassed monarch of all he surveyed. Quicksilver to the ball and possessing a bullet throw, he was a veritable nemesis to the quick single. However, after his calamitous accident, he could no longer rule the roost close-in. As was his innate wont, he converted this impediment into an opportunity and became Indian cricket’s best outfielder.
Pataudi was also not beyond the occasional prank. Possessing a wicked sense of humour, he could be a nightmare for an innocuous teammate. During the course of a Caribbean tour, Pataudi and Farokh Engineer put on Caribbean accents, telephoned their teammates in the rooms and clamoured for everyone to rush to the reception in whatever garb they were attired in, since a hurricane was headed their way. “The sight of a bunch of Indians in their pyjamas, dhotis and shorts searching for a hurricane in the reception area….was one of the highlights of a tour where we lost all five Tests.”
When it came to tactical acumen, Pataudi was way ahead of his time. When conventional and received wisdom dictated the presence of two seamers, irrespective of quality (or an absolute lack of it) and two spinning options, Pataudi upended conventions by fielding a troika or even a quartet of spinners! Even if wicket keeper batsman Budhi Kunderan had to wield the new ball just so that it becomes old, then so be it. The outcome: a spinning quartet of vintage quality the likes of which had never been seen before and would arguably be never seen again. Bishan Singh Bedi, Erapalli Prasanna, Bhagawat Chandrasekhar and Srinivas Venkatraghavan were all provided wings by Pataudi to soar hard and high and by Jove, did they soar!
As Rahul Dravid informs the reader, Pataudi also fought for the player’s cause and was at the forefront of an attempt to form a players’ association. Even though such an endeavour did not come to fruition, its objective was more or less accomplished with the Board enhancing the remuneration and compensation of the players.
The book contains a plethora of anecdotes and is permeated with enduring memories. While the book might have contributed a lot in dispelling a great deal of reverential myth associated with Pataudi the man, it also embellished in great deal the aura – deserving by every stretch of imagination – attached to Pataudi the cricketer. Every contributor seems to have endorsed a universal attribute of pride and fortune that ensured that they were in some manner or other tied together with a colossus who strode through the world of cricket. A true prince in philosophy, principles, practice and pedigree.
September 17, 2013
"I have lost an eye, not an ambition".
The book is a fitting tribute to the legend who hit a test century not later than the six months after the car accident that took his one eye.He was the first who instilled confidence in the Indians who were still suffering from the hangover of being slaves to their colonial masters. He walked, talked and led like a tiger. He went down as quietly as he led his life throughout.
would give 3.5/5.
The book is a fitting tribute to the legend who hit a test century not later than the six months after the car accident that took his one eye.He was the first who instilled confidence in the Indians who were still suffering from the hangover of being slaves to their colonial masters. He walked, talked and led like a tiger. He went down as quietly as he led his life throughout.
would give 3.5/5.
May 9, 2016
The book must be read by this generation of readers to understand why a middling batsman who consistently failed in West Indies and who won merely two series as captain (against New Zealand,of all countries) was celebrated as a superstar captain who bookmarked a significant era in Indian cricket. The most succinct tribute in this collection of essays is by Mike Brearley who beautifully sums up what Tiger means to Indian cricket.
January 31, 2022
January starts with me raiding my uncle’s library and I stumbled upon this book.
Pataudi (Nawab of Cricket) is a collection of stories and anecdotes shared by the people closest to India’s erstwhile captain, Mansour Ali Khan Pataudi, formerly known as the Nawab of Pataudi, immediately after his death.
The book starts with an intimate and lovely foreword penned by his wife, Sharmila Tagore. You can feel the warmth of a 43 year old marriage in her words.
“I had loved Tiger for forty seven years, was married to him for almost forty three… it was a memorable partnership; certainly, an enriching one for me.”
Various people including former captains, team members, friends, and journalists share their experiences with the Nawab and their impression of him. Some of the people in the list are startling, such as the actor Naseeruddin Shah, writing from the perspective of a fan. The book unfolds like a delightful jigsaw puzzle but the picture that emerges of the man is pretty clear. Mansour Ali Khan Pataudi’s life is filled with remarkable and frequent catastrophes but what captured people’s imagination and their hearts was the man’s acceptance and stoic response to them all.
A man with the highest Indian pedigree of pre Independence loses his father early, then loses an eye in an accident, and finally, loses all his land and wealth as the privy purses are abolished. Pataudi accepts all of them in his stride and does not allow the people close to him to delve into those events. Growing up and playing for England’s prestigious schools and teams, Pataudi had a reputation of a prodigy and was earmarked for greatness. Even after losing his eye, Pataudi would resume playing cricket in a few weeks and would find success pretty quickly. He became India’s youngest captain when the captain of the time, Nari Contractor, was hit on the head when playing against West Indies that ended his playing career. Pataudi would go on to unify a team split into various factions into one team - an Indian team and then infuse them with courage to look at their opponents in the eye.
Pataudi, with his correct English manners, escaped being boring because of his quick wit and love for pranks. He was warm and generous to the people who came in contact with him. He believed in meritocracy and fairness when leading the team. The book also showcases his failings as a human but these are far and few between. He captured the media’s imagination with his good looks and his marriage to the gorgeous actress, Sharmila Tagore. He was possibly India’s first cricketing super star.
“Because he was… well, the last of a kind – the bridge between the medieval and the modern. We wept for an age and its graciousness. And then we wept for ourselves.”
The book ends again in an intimate note with essays from both his daughters.
The major flaw with the book is that it tends to get repetitive as almost everybody writes about the same major events and themes. So, be bold like the Nawab and skip an essay or chapter if it does not work for you. The best way to enjoy this book would be over many leisurely evenings with a drink of your choice allowing yourself to be transported back in time.
Bonus: The episode Tiger Talk with Saad Bin Jung (Tiger’s nephew) on 22 yarns with Gaurav Kapoor is an excellent companion piece for this book.
Pataudi (Nawab of Cricket) is a collection of stories and anecdotes shared by the people closest to India’s erstwhile captain, Mansour Ali Khan Pataudi, formerly known as the Nawab of Pataudi, immediately after his death.
The book starts with an intimate and lovely foreword penned by his wife, Sharmila Tagore. You can feel the warmth of a 43 year old marriage in her words.
“I had loved Tiger for forty seven years, was married to him for almost forty three… it was a memorable partnership; certainly, an enriching one for me.”
Various people including former captains, team members, friends, and journalists share their experiences with the Nawab and their impression of him. Some of the people in the list are startling, such as the actor Naseeruddin Shah, writing from the perspective of a fan. The book unfolds like a delightful jigsaw puzzle but the picture that emerges of the man is pretty clear. Mansour Ali Khan Pataudi’s life is filled with remarkable and frequent catastrophes but what captured people’s imagination and their hearts was the man’s acceptance and stoic response to them all.
A man with the highest Indian pedigree of pre Independence loses his father early, then loses an eye in an accident, and finally, loses all his land and wealth as the privy purses are abolished. Pataudi accepts all of them in his stride and does not allow the people close to him to delve into those events. Growing up and playing for England’s prestigious schools and teams, Pataudi had a reputation of a prodigy and was earmarked for greatness. Even after losing his eye, Pataudi would resume playing cricket in a few weeks and would find success pretty quickly. He became India’s youngest captain when the captain of the time, Nari Contractor, was hit on the head when playing against West Indies that ended his playing career. Pataudi would go on to unify a team split into various factions into one team - an Indian team and then infuse them with courage to look at their opponents in the eye.
Pataudi, with his correct English manners, escaped being boring because of his quick wit and love for pranks. He was warm and generous to the people who came in contact with him. He believed in meritocracy and fairness when leading the team. The book also showcases his failings as a human but these are far and few between. He captured the media’s imagination with his good looks and his marriage to the gorgeous actress, Sharmila Tagore. He was possibly India’s first cricketing super star.
“Because he was… well, the last of a kind – the bridge between the medieval and the modern. We wept for an age and its graciousness. And then we wept for ourselves.”
The book ends again in an intimate note with essays from both his daughters.
The major flaw with the book is that it tends to get repetitive as almost everybody writes about the same major events and themes. So, be bold like the Nawab and skip an essay or chapter if it does not work for you. The best way to enjoy this book would be over many leisurely evenings with a drink of your choice allowing yourself to be transported back in time.
Bonus: The episode Tiger Talk with Saad Bin Jung (Tiger’s nephew) on 22 yarns with Gaurav Kapoor is an excellent companion piece for this book.
January 14, 2020
Pataudi: Nawab of Cricket (hardcover) by Suresh Menon (Editor) The book is a collection of brief character sketch of the great Indian cricket captain and good hunanbeing, royal late M A K Pataudi by Vijay Merchant, Mike Breerly, Sharmila Tagore and other national and international sports stalwarts of his time. The result of reading this book is that I have listened to all talks on Pataudi "Pataudid memboril lectures" organised in Calcutta by Telagraph, Bengal club, Oberoi Hotels and Resorts and by BCCI also though after the intitiative taken by Telegraph, Oboroi Hotels. Among Indian Royals, his family members have been in limelight for national cause, charity, movies, authoring books (Soha Ali Khan) . The book is tribute to the genius of M A K Pataudi. Such similar books should be brought to remember Indian greats. The book has a high potential for sale with sports lovers and general readers.
September 15, 2024
To begin with this is not an autobiography. It is a collection of articles and speeches concerning the protagonist of the book over the years. However, what really is to be appreciated is their choice in terms of the timeline of the articles right from the school cricket days of Mr. Pataudi in England to the ones written as obituaries in 2011, the year he bid farewell to this world. It deftly touches upon various aspects of life of "Tiger" - the father, the captain, the cricketer and the person.
For me, personally, there is the chapter called the "Self Respect Movement" by Suresh Menon which completes this book. Books in this genre often run the risk of being overtly high on the eulogy poppy and that is what this article stops it from being. The respectful manner in which Suresh Menon is critical of Pataudi in the article, the entire factor as to how despite being one of the best Indian Captains ever Ajit Wadekar still lost to Pataudi in the media and people's perception game is what makes this book interesting for me.
In conclusion, if you are looking forward to reading a detailed biography of Mansoor Ali Khan, the book will disappoint you. For that you have the "Tiger's Tale" . But yes, if you want to understand the struggles and triumph of a man and his flaws at being too reserved to do something about something he loved, as viewed by others, this is the book. Yes, you may feel that repetitiveness in that book and somewhere it does affect the reading experience but if you are looking for a light hearted read over a weekend where you can actually put down the book after a chapter or two and come back after an hour to read again without experiencing any breaks in your reader's rhythm, it a good enough read.
For me, personally, there is the chapter called the "Self Respect Movement" by Suresh Menon which completes this book. Books in this genre often run the risk of being overtly high on the eulogy poppy and that is what this article stops it from being. The respectful manner in which Suresh Menon is critical of Pataudi in the article, the entire factor as to how despite being one of the best Indian Captains ever Ajit Wadekar still lost to Pataudi in the media and people's perception game is what makes this book interesting for me.
In conclusion, if you are looking forward to reading a detailed biography of Mansoor Ali Khan, the book will disappoint you. For that you have the "Tiger's Tale" . But yes, if you want to understand the struggles and triumph of a man and his flaws at being too reserved to do something about something he loved, as viewed by others, this is the book. Yes, you may feel that repetitiveness in that book and somewhere it does affect the reading experience but if you are looking for a light hearted read over a weekend where you can actually put down the book after a chapter or two and come back after an hour to read again without experiencing any breaks in your reader's rhythm, it a good enough read.
January 3, 2026
9/10. A good walk down the memory lane. He belonged to a much earlier generation of cricketers, but clearly his legacy has pervaded any limits of time or age. A wonderful and breezy read. Most cricket aficionados would enjoy reading this.
October 6, 2017
A superb collection of articles on a remarkable cricketer.
October 9, 2019
Would have worked better had it been a biography similar to the author's book about bedi.
January 10, 2025
The ever-dashing and charming Mr Pataudi, the James Bond of cricket, is a true leader in all its true sense of the word. He was the leader we needed and he stepped up
October 13, 2013
There is no doubting the charisma and class of a man who played an international sport at the highest level for a decade and a half with remarkable distinction despite a serious personal handicap. The grace and acumen with which he captained an often fractious Indian cricket team has been well documented. Some of the steel was probably inherent, inherited from his distinguished father and his royal ancestry, then hardened and honed during what must have been a tough schooling for a teenager five thousand miles away from home: first public school at Winchester, and later Balliol College, Oxford. There is little not to like about the man - he married a celebrated movie star, always maintained impeccable personal probity, even was an excellent fielder much before it became fashionable to be one.
His privileged upbringing and education may have made him stand somewhat aloof from his peers, but being brief and laconic in conversation is not always a vice. There is a lot that is admirable in the sort of cricket he played and stood for throughout his life; a sport where a gentleman's word was enough, where artistry within the game could be noticed and applauded by spectators free from myriad distractions, where qualities like patience and sangfroid were prized higher than mere force. All this is becoming increasingly rare in an age where every aspect of cricket is ruthlessly commercialized; subtleties are often drowned out (either by an endless succession of ads, or, say, by a raucous bunch of people in the row of seats immediately ahead of you at the stadium, all unrelentingly intent on trying out the loudest drums and trumpets they could find), and television coverage is dumbed down to appeal to an audience not always conversant with all the nuances of the sport. Some of these changes can be read to be progressive, part of a process of reform moving the sport forward from all the snooty conservative elitism of yore; and definitely, cricketers are a lot more prosperous and financially secure now compared to the past, and innovations like cheerleaders and commentators like Danny Morrison or Navjot Singh Sidhu might well have lent the game a certain bling attractive to some spectators.
But still, at the end of the day, the fundamental virtues and markers of cricketing greatness remain the same. Stuffy purists might recoil at the sight of a Pietersen switch-hit or a Sehwag upper-cut -- but you don't imperiously hit Dale Steyn straight over his head for six, score triple hundreds in a day's cricket, and average over 50 in Tests over a decade without a consummate mastery of rather less flamboyant skills like a perfect backfoot defence,or leaving the most tempting outswinger with a precise sense of just where your off-stump is. Pataudi's greatness can be gauged simply from the fact that he achieved these markers of quality batsmanship despite the early tragic traffic accident that cost him the sight of an eye. We can but speculate what might have been if that accident hadn't happened. And then there are the quality and courage of his years as India captain -- brushing aside pettinesses like regionalism and a deep-seated fear of green-tops that had long afflicted the team to build a side of resilience and unity; the first ever Indian team to win a Test series overseas on a tour to Antipodean New Zealand. To have been this successful as a leader after being handed the mantle in his early twenties -- the only contemporary cricketer who comes close to this sort of leadership class is probably Graeme Smith.
Suresh Menon has edited the anthology well; the contributions are well-written, thoughtful, often delightfully anecdotal. Essays by the likes of Vijay Merchant (who was the selector responsible for replacing Pataudi with Wadekar as national captain before India's tour of the West Indies in '71) rescue the book from being one extended eulogy to 'The Tiger'.
My only gripe with the book is that it is too short at 184 pages. Here's to you again then, prince, hope you're doing well in all the Tests you're now playing in heaven.
His privileged upbringing and education may have made him stand somewhat aloof from his peers, but being brief and laconic in conversation is not always a vice. There is a lot that is admirable in the sort of cricket he played and stood for throughout his life; a sport where a gentleman's word was enough, where artistry within the game could be noticed and applauded by spectators free from myriad distractions, where qualities like patience and sangfroid were prized higher than mere force. All this is becoming increasingly rare in an age where every aspect of cricket is ruthlessly commercialized; subtleties are often drowned out (either by an endless succession of ads, or, say, by a raucous bunch of people in the row of seats immediately ahead of you at the stadium, all unrelentingly intent on trying out the loudest drums and trumpets they could find), and television coverage is dumbed down to appeal to an audience not always conversant with all the nuances of the sport. Some of these changes can be read to be progressive, part of a process of reform moving the sport forward from all the snooty conservative elitism of yore; and definitely, cricketers are a lot more prosperous and financially secure now compared to the past, and innovations like cheerleaders and commentators like Danny Morrison or Navjot Singh Sidhu might well have lent the game a certain bling attractive to some spectators.
But still, at the end of the day, the fundamental virtues and markers of cricketing greatness remain the same. Stuffy purists might recoil at the sight of a Pietersen switch-hit or a Sehwag upper-cut -- but you don't imperiously hit Dale Steyn straight over his head for six, score triple hundreds in a day's cricket, and average over 50 in Tests over a decade without a consummate mastery of rather less flamboyant skills like a perfect backfoot defence,or leaving the most tempting outswinger with a precise sense of just where your off-stump is. Pataudi's greatness can be gauged simply from the fact that he achieved these markers of quality batsmanship despite the early tragic traffic accident that cost him the sight of an eye. We can but speculate what might have been if that accident hadn't happened. And then there are the quality and courage of his years as India captain -- brushing aside pettinesses like regionalism and a deep-seated fear of green-tops that had long afflicted the team to build a side of resilience and unity; the first ever Indian team to win a Test series overseas on a tour to Antipodean New Zealand. To have been this successful as a leader after being handed the mantle in his early twenties -- the only contemporary cricketer who comes close to this sort of leadership class is probably Graeme Smith.
Suresh Menon has edited the anthology well; the contributions are well-written, thoughtful, often delightfully anecdotal. Essays by the likes of Vijay Merchant (who was the selector responsible for replacing Pataudi with Wadekar as national captain before India's tour of the West Indies in '71) rescue the book from being one extended eulogy to 'The Tiger'.
My only gripe with the book is that it is too short at 184 pages. Here's to you again then, prince, hope you're doing well in all the Tests you're now playing in heaven.
February 22, 2022
Some good insights, gets repetitive very soon.
April 25, 2024
A great read on an Indian cricketer who conducted himself with great dignity on and off the field, rose above disability to play the sport and lead his team with panache!
March 30, 2013
Recommendation: A great book to read if you have time to spend at a library or even your neighborhood bookshop. Buy it only if you are an ardent fan of both Cricket and the Nawab of Cricket.
Full review - http://www.tickertalks.blogspot.in/20...
Full review - http://www.tickertalks.blogspot.in/20...
March 5, 2013
most poignant & elegant memoir by a wife about her life partner....
the most touching forward i have ever read....sharmila tagore concludes " i have luvd Tiger for 47 yrs,was married to him for almost 43, we did not make it to 50.it was a memorable partnership an enriching one for me....
the most touching forward i have ever read....sharmila tagore concludes " i have luvd Tiger for 47 yrs,was married to him for almost 43, we did not make it to 50.it was a memorable partnership an enriching one for me....
March 30, 2013
A very well edited book by Suresh. All those people who were part of Tiger's life or shared moments have contributed to this book. Wonderfully sequenced.
August 24, 2020
Legendary stuff. Pleasurable read. Lovely compilation.
December 12, 2014
Would have worked better had it been a biography similar to the author's book about bedi.
May 26, 2013
Somewhat of a hagiography, best pieces are by Ian Chappell and Tony Lewis.
September 18, 2015
narration is good and giving the solid nature of late tiger
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews