by Arunabha Sengupta
Antigua, April 18, 1994
A full house had assembled, drawn by dream and destiny.
The great man, holder of the world record, sat in the dressing room of the home team. Before the Test match Sir Garry Sobers had played a round of golf with the man who now stood 45 runs away from his landmark. 8,032 runs at 57.78, highest of an unbeaten 365, and a single digit handicap when the balls became white and stationary. The old master had plenty of tips to share.
But now it was the turn of the young master. A few days short of his 25th birthday, unbeaten on 320 as the day started. It was 10:05 am. Brian Lara had already batted six hours since four in the morning, in front of the mirror in his hotel room.
The stands waited in bated breath.
A square cut off Fraser took him past Gooch’s 333 and Bradman’s 334 at one go. Then Caddick pitched up. The right foot shot out and his willow came down from the towering height of his backlift. The ball crashed past the covers propelling him beyond Wally Hammond’s 336 and Hanif Mohammad’s 337.
Then there were the nerves.
20 minutes were spent on 347. Fraser beat him twice. “I don’t suppose I can call you a lucky bleeder when you’ve got 347,” the fast bowler sighed. Lara chuckled.
He edged past 350, hesitantly scratched the next few runs … moving to 361. Caddick pitched up again. Lara’s blade flashed down once more, in that magnificent arc. The ball blazed through the covers. Len Hutton was left behind. Lara was now level with the man who had played golf with him.
The crowd stood as one, a palpating tangle of nerves around the arena. Chris Lewis ran in to bowl now. Lara calmed himself as he took guard.
The ball was short. Back and across went Lara, reading the bowler’s mind, knowing it would be a bouncer. The bat swivelled across his body, the ball zoomed past squareleg, tearing to the fence, moving the score to a zone unchartered in the history of Test cricket.
They came along now, spilling out of the stands, cascading into the battlefield of Lara’s triumph, where history had been scripted. The onrush of the spectators created a scrum of sorts on the pitch.
“These scenes will be repeated all over the Caribbean, wherever people are, they’re jumping, they’re joyous, they’re jubilant,” said Tony Cozier.
And all the while wicketkeeper Jack Russell looked curiously at the bail that had almost been dislodged as Lara had swivelled to essay the pull. As he had swung around, his foot had flicked the stumps. The bail had stuttered into a jump and had landed back a precariously balanced state on to the stumps. Russell had not appealed and was thankful that the bail had not fallen off. "I thought to myself that if I do I won't make it home. I'll be lynched. The bail didn't fall off in the end but it stayed slightly out of its slot."
And suddenly it was discovered that among the chaotic ensemble of raucous celebrating spectators and harried, zealous security men, there was the great man himself. Garry Sobers had made his way from the dressing room and was handing over his 36-year-old world record encased in a heartfelt hug.
It was 6 minutes for the next ball to be bowled! Lara eventually scored 375.
“I could not think of a better person to break my record. He is the only batsman today who plays the game the way it should be played,” gushed Sobers.
On his part, Lara hoped he could go on living ‘a simple life.’
Well, that proved somewhat difficult. We do know that greatness brings its own complications.
But, in 2004, he became the only man ever to reclaim his world record for individual Test score and the record stands still. The first man to score 400 in Test cricket and the first man to notch up half a thousand in one single innings in First-Class cricket.
A freak, a genius.
Brian Lara was born on 2 May 1969.
Illustration Maha