One of cricket’s iconic photographs is of Bishan Singh Bedi arriving at the crease to deliver the ball, feet scissored, right arm upright as if settling on a target, head looking over his leading shoulder, about to let go of the ball. The slow left-arm orthodox spinner, one of the greatest to grace the game, was languid in his approach and delivery. This belied the spiteful bite and the disguised deception he could impart to a ball.
You could take a still photograph of Bedi at any point in his approach and it would be a picture of poise and balance. If you gave a sculptor countless hours to chisel away at marble, they would not be able to produce a more perfect action, devoid of frills and fancies, economical to the point of being minimalist.
When Bedi retired, he had 266 Test wickets at an average of 28.71 from 67 Tests, more than any other Indian. In a career that ran from 1967 to 1979, he made the cricket world stop and gape in awe, just as his deliveries had done to batsmen. The ball seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, but, by the time it had dropped and gripped off the surface, the batter was already done in.
Bedi, who has died aged 77 after an illness that dogged him for more than two years and required several surgeries that could not quite get him out of the woods, was a massive overachiever.
English fans of a certain vintage will remember that he took 434 wickets for Northamptonshire in county cricket at a parsimonious average of 20.89. When all was said and done, Bedi had 1,560 first-class wickets to his name.
For India, he was much more than just a great bowler. He was one of the famed and feared spin quartet, also featuring Bhagwat Chandrasekhar, the leg-spinner, and offies Erapalli Prasanna and Srinivas Venkataraghavan.
Bedi was a rarity in that his cerebral approach to the game and his charismatic, if outspoken personality also made him the ideal candidate to captain India, which he did in 22 Test matches. This included India’s successful chase of 403 against West Indies in Port of Spain, Trinidad, in 1975, a record that stood until 2003.
Along the way, Bedi also became a larger-than-life figure for fighting certain causes. He declared India’s first innings closed at 306 for six and the second at 97 for five at Sabina Park in 1976 when he believed the West Indies fast bowlers were more intent on sending India’s lower order to hospital than getting them out.
Not long after, he forfeited a one-day international against Pakistan in Sahiwal when he thought Sarfaraz Nawaz was over-using the bouncer in dangerous fashion. And who can forget his protest against John Lever in Chennai in 1976? Bedi believed the Vaseline on Lever’s brow had less to do with keeping sweat at bay than altering the condition of the ball.
Long after he quit playing, Bedi continued to be his own man. As a four-time Ranji Trophy finalist for Delhi, in which he led the team to consecutive titles against Gundappa Vishwanath’s Karnataka and Sunil Gavaskar’s Mumbai in 1978-79 and the year after, Bedi was more than entitled to have a stand named after him at the Ferozeshah Kotla stadium.
Once the Delhi and District Cricket Administration renamed the stadium after the veteran politician and cricket administrator Arun Jaitley, Bedi wrote to the powers that be asking that his name be taken off and, for good measure, his membership be cancelled.
Bedi was one of those rare cricketers who was a legend and inspiration to many but never thought he was bigger than the game or its fans. He was salt of the earth and occasionally his tendency to call a spade a bloody shovel made him powerful enemies. The cricket world has lost a towering figure who loved the game for life. And someone who spoke truth to power no matter what the consequences.
Of course, he was a genius of a bowler. Of course, he was a captain who stood up for his teammates more than the average parent would for their children. But, above all, Bedi was a cricket tragic, who would have done anything to preserve the sanctity of this great game. He was one of the last few of a species fast going extinct.
