Top Spinners

A man could watch a hundred magicians and still not find anything as dazzling as these weavers of tales, these spinners of webs. Warne and the Tamil have been the entertainers of the age. In a time of batsmen they have drawn focus to the endless possibilities of their calling.

Bill O’Reilly, a great Australian and a fiery spinner in his time, used to argue that a bowler’s lot is not a happy one. The surfer from Melbourne and the sweet vendor from Kandy have chided the ancient for his pessimism. Bowling is back, and with a vengeance.

Nor has it only been a matter of turning the ball a yard and grinning with the satisfaction of a child with liquorice. Neither man spins the ball just because he can and finds it fun. Performance without effect is the merest showmanship and belongs in a circus. Murali and the Australian are first and foremost competitors, determined with every bone in their body to take wickets and to finish on the winning side.

Between them these remarkable bowlers have taken almost a thousand Test wickets, a total they can be expected to pass in the forthcoming series. Bear in mind that they are slow bowlers, a breed regarded as defunct not so long ago — but then they said bicycles were finished once the motor bike was introduced, and that movies could not survive the discovery of videos. In truth, the eternal struggles remain the same.

No one in their right mind could attempt to pit the spinners against each other with the intention of determining superiority. A man might as well put a suit of clothes beside a kurta and ask someone to choose between them. Both have strong and weak points. Even by Australian standards, Warne has been colourful; Murali’s entire game has been questioned. But they are mavericks defying convention.

Character has been needed. Neither man listened to the doomsayers. Better than anyone else, they understood that fashions change and that skills can return precisely because they are neglected.

Neither man has even taken a backward step. At various times Murali and Warne have been condemned, injured and flogged to all parts of the ground and always they have come back for another helping. They refuse to give in. Murali smiles sweetly when heavy punishment is taken, and says it was not his day. Warne remains convinced that wickets will soon be tumbling again. Both men have created realities of their own and, resolute and impregnable, they meet misfortune by planning their next attack.

Of course the pair are in some respects as different as pulao and pie. But they have more in common that meets the eye. Most particularly, they understand the importance of theatre and bluff. Watching them prepare to bowl is to see a predator teasing his opponent, using nerves and the roars of the crows as potent weapons.

Bluff comes in the form of the annual announcement of another new delivery discovered in the dead of winter. At such times the pair resemble witches concocting a brew with secret ingredients. Of course it is nonsense. Cricket balls move left, right or go straight. Batsmen listening to these tales told by artful performers became convinced their deliveries enter a third dimension.

Warne manages to turn straight deliveries into lethal parts of his armoury. Murali contrives to persuade the world that his doosra has just been found, though he has been bowling it for years.

These men have revived a craft by adding artistry and darkness to it. Cricket had become dull and predictable, a hard game reflecting the speed and aggression of the age. Now it is fun again as these grinning magicians cast their spells.

Doubtless their best days are behind them. Batsmen are familiar with their tricks — TV has seen to that. But they are enchanting, exciting and experienced and will find a way of taking wickets. Always they have been able to take care of themselves and, even now, there is no reason to fear for their prospects.