A smashing overboundary

When this book arrived in an airbag from our Delhi office, it brought along two strong apprehensions. The first was that it will give a primarily English cricket-centric view of the game. That is how Wisden, called cricket's Bible, has always viewed the game.

In the normal course, you make it to its annual list of five best cricketers only if you do well in England. Which is how obscure county cricket journeymen have often managed to beat international stalwarts to the list.

In the true British way, this view would stretch to cover the story of nations that have beaten England so often that the English have been left with no option but to declare them superior. This category includes, inevitably, Australia and the West Indies.

However, this would leave a sub-continental cricket fan a bit underwhelmed. One could admire it like one admired Madonna's Papa Don't Preach back in the eighties. Catchy music, and the chick sure looked hot. But, at that time, unwed mothers were not an issue that would tug at the strings of an Indian heart.

The second aspect was more daunting: 1,327 pages weighing nearly a kilo.

For once, I have been proved wrong on two counts""both of the above""in the course of a single write-up.

The book does have that view I had feared. As many as 176 pages are devoted to the counties. And the end of history for the purpose of this anthology is taken to be""perhaps for the sake of a happy ending""the 2005 Ashes series that England won after some 16 years of Aussie dominance.

The series is also described as the best ever. That is totally untrue. The greatest Test series took place in India six years ago, in which a grouchy Ganguly inspired the greatest come-from-behind victory, that too against Waugh's Australia, which had won 16 on the trot.

But these are minor glitches in view of the mesmerising panorama that the book conjures up and can be""should be""overlooked.

The anthology hits a six off the first ball by choosing 1978 as the beginning of the revolution. Not because that was cricket's golden age. The game hasn't had a golden age. Even a century ago, W G Grace, the best-known cricketer of his time, would happily plunge the depths to avoid being given out.

The 1970s, if anything, was the decade of the rogue cricketer. Sledging was more fearsome than now. Greg Chappell, who later made his brother Trevor bowl underarm when New Zealand needed six off the last ball to tie, and brother Ian dominated in Australia.

They were aided by Dennis Lillee, who once walked out to crease wielding not the willow but an aluminium bat to please a sponsor. Pakistan had Javed Miandad, who came to blows with Lillee on the pitch. The West Indies had a battery of fast bowlers that fought bouncer wars, and Michael Holding, who famously kicked stumps out of the ground when denied a wicket by the umpire's discretion.

But the most epochal change was brought about by a man who did not play cricket.

In 1976, Channel Nine offered the Australian Cricket Board $1,500,000 for three years' coverage of Australian cricket. The board inexplicably opted for Australian Broadcasting Commission, which was paying only $200,000.

This coincided with meetings of Australian cricketers who had been agitating for four years, without success, to get the board to improve emoluments.

The strands of disenchantment fused together to create the biggest explosion the game will ever see. Kerry Packer, the owner of Nine, started World Series Cricket of rebel cricketers in April 1977 and ended it with victory over the board in February 1979. By that time, the hang was self-sustaining and impossible to reverse.

There was no going back on night cricket, coloured clothings, the rule of the television, rabid commercialisation and much-much more money for everyone.

Editor Stephen Moss, a feature writer for The Guardian of the UK, makes maximum use of the literary scope that cricket offers, which is much more than any other game. The anthology has compiled the writings of some of the best writers, culled from 40,000 pages published over 30 years, to paint a coherent picture of the game in all its bloom, beauty and beastliness.

Moss, introduced on the back cover as one who "played for many teams, always ineptly" and scored three fifties in a 30-year career, retains the same cheeky style whenever he steps in, which is frequent.

All these conspire to ensure that from the opening stand, Foreword by Richie Benaud, to Close of Play, a compilation of 20 obituaries written from the heart, the girth of the book never interferes with the playing conditions.

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Wisden Anthology 1978-2006
Cricket's Age of Revolution

Edited by Stephen Moss
Penguin Viking
Price: Rs 1,500; Pages: 1,327