31 years India had waited. Four trips down under, 11 times they had packed their bags with nothing but stories of what might have been. This time was different. This time they had a leg-spinner who could turn the ball on glass and an opening batter who treated Australian bowlers like club cricketers.
The man who never got his due finally did
Bhagwat Chandrasekhar always lived in someone else’s shadow. Bedi got the headlines. Prasanna got the respect. Chandra just got wickets. Quietly, without fuss, match after match. In Melbourne that December, people finally saw what his teammates had known for fourteen years.
Twelve wickets for 104 runs. Those numbers don’t capture it. The first wicket he took, Gari Cosier caught by Chetan Chauhan. That was his two hundredth Test wicket. Only Bishan Singh Bedi had done it before for India. The Australians looked at the scoreboard and saw a bowler with a withered arm who couldn’t bat to save his life. They missed what was right in front of them – a man who could make a cricket ball do impossible things.
Batting with one good hand
Mohinder Amarnath’s right hand was a mess. The fingers were swollen. Every time bat hit ball, pain shot up his arm like electricity. He didn’t tell anyone how bad it was. He just walked out to bat at number three.
The pitch was doing things on the first morning. Bouncing. Seaming. India lost two wickets before the scoreboard had even been properly warmed up. Then Amarnath and Gundappa Viswanath stood together. Four hours they batted. 105 runs they added. Every run cost Amarnath something. His right hand kept throbbing. The physio kept offering help. He kept waving him away.
At 43, he hooked Ian Gannon. The ball went high towards long leg. The fielder ran in. The ball touched his fingers. Then it dropped. Australia’s chance walked off with Amarnath. He went on to make 72. If they’d caught him, India would have been 114 for four. Instead, they built a platform.
Chandra’s first act
Australia’s batting had two faces in their first innings. Craig Serjeant and Gary Cosier put on 104 for the third wicket after Karsan Ghavri knocked over the openers. That was the good face. The rest was the bad face. Ugly face, actually.
They kept playing at balls they should have left. They kept leaving balls they should have played. Chandrasekhar kept throwing them up. They kept throwing their wickets away. 213 all out. The score flattered them. India’s bowlers weren’t complaining. Chandra ended up with figures of 6 wickets for 52 runs.
Jeff Thomson was sitting in the dressing room with his hamstring taped up when India’s second innings began. The lead was only 43 runs. Thomson watched his teammates walk past him, their faces already tired. He knew. They all knew. The game was slipping away while he sat there helpless.
Sunil’s third symphony
Sunil Gavaskar was tired of losing in Australia. Tired of the questions. Tired of the jokes. In this series, he decided to answer with his bat. This was his third century in four Tests. Not easy runs. Not flat pitch runs. Proper, bloody-minded runs.
He saw the cracks opening up on the pitch. He saw the spinners loosening their shoulders. He knew 343 would be enough. While he batted, the Australians looked like schoolboys. He moved his feet like a dancer. He played late. He played soft. Then he played hard. When he got out, the job was done.
The final act
Australia needed 387 runs to win. On a 4th day pitch, that was like asking them to climb Mount Everest in flip-flops. The ball was turning square. It was spitting up dust. It was bouncing off the cracks like a pinball.
Chandrasekhar ran in from the Members End. He didn’t flight it as much this time. He fired it through quicker. The ball that got Craig Serjeant straightened just enough. The one that got Simpson dipped. The Australians kept looking at their bat, then at the pitch, then at the sky. None of it made sense.
After adding 42 runs for the 1st wicket, Australia lost their first 8 wickets for just 80 runs and ended the 4th day with score of 123 for 8. On final day, Wayne Clark showed some fight and scored 33 runs while batting at no.9 but Captain Bishan Singh Bedi wrapped up the tail by picking last 2 wickets. The final catch went to slip. Bedi threw his arms in the air. Indians danced in a circle. 31 years of waiting ended in a Melbourne minute.
Amarnath couldn’t lift his right hand to celebrate. He just stood there, smiling. Chandrasekhar looked at the scoreboard. Twelve wickets. His best ever. The withered arm that made him look weak had just made his team strong. India had grown up. Australian soil had Indian footprints on it. Deep ones. Ones that wouldn’t wash away with the next rain.