by Arunabha Sengupta
When Fred Trueman was called to the telephone at the RAF base and informed of his selection in the Test team, he was certain that it was a prank. In his colourful vocabulary, he asked the caller to “bu**er off”. It was only when former fast bowler Bill Bowes rang him up, the rookie fast bowler was finally convinced. He approached his commanding officer for time off — and it was wheedled in exchange of tickets to the match.
Ironically, the Indians did not suffer from too many misgivings going into the first Test at Leeds. They had won one, lost one and drawn the remaining of their nine warm-up matches.
Len Hutton tossed the coin, thus becoming the first professional to lead an English team. Vijay Hazare called correctly and India batted. Vijay Manjrekar’s 133 and Hazare’s 89 carried the team from 42 for three to 293. Ghulam Ahmed’s five for 100 kept the lead of the home team to a manageable 41.
In the pavilion, during the change of innings, Hazare supposedly announced that the batting order would remain unchanged. However, Madhav Mantri, the Indian wicket keeper who had batted at No 8 in the first innings, soon received summons from the captain, who asked him to pad up and go in at one-drop.
Trueman had taken three first innings wickets and had given glimpses of his destructive pace. He now started proceedings from the Kirkstall End. His second ball was a bouncer - a long hop by most accounts - which Pankaj Roy tried to hook but ended up skying off the back of his bat high for Denis Compton to move some yards from first slip, wait an eternity and safely pouch it in those famous hands. Hurriedly strapping on his pads, Mantri managed to walk out and see through the over. India: 0-1.
In the next over, Bedser made a ball — according to The Times —”rear up like a cobra”. All Datta Gaekwad could do was to fend it to gully where Laker held on. India: 0-2.
Umrigar walked in at No 4. Trueman’s first ball of the next over was a slower one which comprehensively fooled Mantri and ended up hitting his off stump. He hardly attempted a stroke. India: 0-3.
As the wicket-keeper walked back, he passed the new batsman and noticed that it was Manjrekar. There was still no sign of the captain.
Later Mantri recalled that Manjrekar had looked at him with a pale face and had muttered in Marathi, “Mala bakra banola” (I’ve been made a sacrificial goat). Manjrekar suggested that he was pushed ahead in the batting order so that the captain could excuse himself from walking into the mayhem.
The first ball that the new batsman faced was a full toss. He tried to crash it through the covers, but got an inside edge onto his leg-stump. India: 0-4. In 14 balls, India had lost four wickets without a run on the board and innings defeat looked a serious threat.
According to The Times, “The crowd danced and waved as if it were a cup tie while a young Yorkshire hero stood on the verge of a hat-trick. Here was a disaster produced by pace and panic.”
The Yorkshire Post, reading the total as 0/4 on the teleprinter, called the ground to check if the score was four without loss and if there was an error in the copy received.
Hazare finally made his way to the middle. Hutton crowded the Indian captain’s bat with almost all the fielders under his command. Trueman turned and steamed in, producing pace like fire and a streak like lightning. However, Hazare survived, the ball missing the edge by what Trueman later termed, “A fag paper’s width.”
Umrigar did not last long, but from 26 for five, Hazare and Dattu Phadkar took India to 131, before Trueman sent the captain’s off-stump cart-wheeling five minutes before close of play.
India finished the disastrous day at 136 for six.
As the teams departed for the rest day, darkest part of the night seemed to be over. But the nightmares continued throughout the tour.
The first Test was eventually lost by seven wickets, and the margin of subsequent defeats kept increasing as the tour progressed.
India was finally rescued by rain in the fourth and final Test at Oval after looking down the proverbial barrel. Thus a series whitewash was averted, but only just — or should we say, “By a fag paper’s width”.
Trueman, who had to make a 17 hour trip from the RAF base in Germany to play the second Test at Lord’s, finished with 29 wickets in the series at 13.30.
The day the scoreboard showed 4 for no score was 7 June 1952. And if you have read the full story, contrary to the romantic retelling, it was not destructive pace that did it. The Indian batsmen fell to long hops, full tosses and slower balls.