A century full of ironies

DECEMBER 25: Then there were two. One overhead, one ankle. One missed, one twisted and Indian tennis going ever so smoothly was left to fend for what has been rather than what could have been. Towards the end, two boys rewrote a tiny bit of script that, in the ultimate analysis, turned out to be the kind of success the legends before them could have achieved on a much better platform, but...

It is the tragedy of Indian tennis and those players who have been associated with that moment, lost for ever, that all of them fought and lost a battle against those who went on to win the war. Neale Fraser, Rod Laver, Jan Kodes, Jimmy Connors, John McEnroe were the ones who swept the Indians away on their way to the big triumphs.

If Vijay Amritraj describes the missed overhead the difference between `winning a Wimbledon title' and Krishnan still feels dejected at that sprained ankle `which was as big as a football' on the morning of the third round match at Wimbledon in 1962, it could be that destiny played the villain in the drama which could have proved the ultimate adrenaline for generations well into the next century.

If Amritraj is reminded most of the time about the matches he lost, it could also be that people felt he had it in him to be a Wimbledon Champion. The Krishnan mystique held its own in the times of Laver and Emerson and almost went all the way but for the injury which came in a year when all the other big names had made an early exit. The draw had opened up for the man from Madras to the final before the doctor's advice held precedence.

But then what about Ghaus Mohammed Khan who was India's top player from 1936 to 1940 and whose upward swing of the career graph was cut short by the rigours of War. The first Indian Wimbledon quarter-finalist in 1939, Mohammed played just three Davis Cup ties for the country, once again an apt reminder of the net loss than net gain.

A century full of ironies is how Indian tennis could be described best. The three Davis Cup finals, all ending on the same road where Amritraj and Krishnan found themselves stuck in. Yet, that was a long haul from the time the first tennis championship was inaugurated in 1910 the All India lawn Tennis Championships. It took Indians five years to break free from the English strangelhold when Mohammed Sleem crowned himself the first Indian singles champion by winning the Punjab Championship. In 1917, NS Iyer became the second Indian to win a major championship, winning the Bengal championship.

Not even Sardar Nihal Singh, who became the first Indian to play at Wimbledon in 1908, could force the world to take notice of Indian talent. It took much longer than that the '20s when India first appeared in Davis Cup in 1921, and Sleem (1921), AH Fyzee (1923, 1925) and Jagat Mohan Lal (1925) all made it to the fourth round at Wimbledon. The three, along with captain SM Jacob, a British ICS officer, brought India firmly into the forefront of Davis Cup exploits.

After all, keeping away the few big ones in the Grand Slams, Davis Cup has always brought out the best in Indians. Right from the Krishnan-Naresh Kumar-Jaidip Mukherjea era to the Amritrajs down to the boy from Calcutta, Davis Cup has acted as a catalyst.

Yet, it was only in 1953, when a 16-year-old Ramanathan Krishnan won the National championships, did Indian tennis turn the corner. The junior Wimbledon title the next year, and Krishnan was ready to take on the world. He did, in more ways than one, when he was ranked among the top 10 on five different occasions.

He was ready to wind down before another family of tennis players took over from Krishnan. Strangely, the best talent in the country has all emanated from the same city, and when Vijay Amritraj ushered in the `power' in the game, India were well and truly a world tennis power. The Amritraj era was known both for style and substance as Vijay went on to be a world ambassador for the sport. A PR man's ultimate fantasy, Vijay, with his unique style and ready wit, is still one of the most recognised faces in the sport.

Ramesh brought up the second edition of the Krishnan saga, complete with touch and elegance, but in the ever-increasing quest for the ultimate `big game' the touch even failed to gain a mention. The son had his share of successes but was never in the league of his father. In any case, it was a daunting task to overhaul the deeds of the elder Krishnan.

On the first Sunday of a windy July - the last of the century - the most sought-after rectangle of grass was trampled upon and taken apart by the big boys of the sport looking for the biggest trophy of them all. That over, a sparse crowd waited for minor action. Within an hour, Indians were called up to the royal box, twice, to receive their Wimbledon trophies. It wasn't Vijay Amritraj, it wasn't Ramanathan Krishnan. They were Leander Paes, and Mahesh Bhupathi.

TOMORROW : Chess

Memories of another day