[Article] & comments: Bradman
Raza Rahman
always die young"? or "The best never rest". Perhaps more fitting is
"Nothing lasts forever" or even "They may not remember what you said, but
they will remember how you made them feel".
Watching 'Bodyline' as a young'un did also contribute somewhat to the aura
:)
http://www.dawn.com/weekly/dmag/dmag5.htm
The greatest of all greats!
By Zaheer Abbas
He was, what he was. That is the only way I can express myself while talking
about the greatest of the greats and the most accomplished of all the
accomplished people who have graced the world of cricket over the years. Sir
Donald Bradman was the ultimate in batsmanship, but what is the point is
repeating this. Anyone who has the remotest interest in the game knows this.
His death last week represents the end of an era. But that again is a
cliche, isn't it? With my limited writing skills I am really struggling to
talk of the Don without indulging in cliches. Whichever way I think about
him, all that I get at my disposal are superlatives, and my editor dislikes
the use of hyperboles in my columns. He wants me to avoid them at all costs,
as he has often told me in his own plain words. But how can I talk about the
Don without the use of superlatives. I am really struggling.
I guess it would be easier for me to avoid discussing what Sir Donald was to
the game of cricket, and see him at a personal level. His death came as a
personal shock to me. I had met him more than a few times and found him to
be a humble soul. With the kind of achievements he had under his belt, and
the kind of aura he had about his personality, Bradman could have easily
afforded to be arrogant and haughty. But he was not.
I first met him in the early 1970s after having been picked up to represent
the Rest of the World XI in a match that was taking place in Australia.
Prior to that outing, the English media had dubbed me the 'Asian Bradman'
after I had a successful tour of that country. It was indeed a great act on
the part of the Don to come to the airport to receive me and say a few words
of encouragement. Words fail to describe what emotions I went through in
those few minutes. Here I was, all of twenty-odd years and a novice in
international cricket, standing face to face with the ultimate icon of the
game who was telling me I was "among the very best". Was I dreaming!
Sir Donald became almost a recluse in his late years, but he was not always
like that, and it was a routine for him to attend Test matches played at
Adelaide. At least I found him there every time Pakistan was visiting Down
Under. It was always fun to have a chat with him. I always found him a
humble soul who was effusive in praise of the others, and had the uncanny
ability to put juniors like me at ease in his presence.
Once I was returning from an Adelaide shopping area and was moving towards
the hotel elevator when he saw me, and asked me to have a cup of tea with
him. Waiting for the tea to arrive, I showed him an opal I had bought that
day. "It's great ... you must have bought it for your girlfriend," he said.
But he got quite emotional when I told him it was for my mother. For most of
time that the tea lasted, Sir Donald kept talking of the changing times
where people had stopped buying expensive gifts for their parents. The hurt
pride of a parent was quite evident in his tone.
It would sound a fair comment that in many ways Sir Donald Bradman was the
most un-Australian of all the Australian cricketers I have come across.
There was no boasting, no misplaced pride. Everything about him had humility
and serenity stamped on it. He was, what he was.