The thrills of sport could translate into a lasting friendship, a business partnership or a working relationship.
How does one begin to describe the elation of being on a cricket field — as a schoolboy — against some of the greatest names in Indian Cricket?
It has left an indelible impression and it sowed the seeds for an association with the country that I hope will continue to grow.
It is the reason I believe that sport, and especially cricket, is a wonderful vehicle for a young person to be involved in. Who knows where the sheer thrill of playing will one day possibly translate itself into a lasting friendship, or a business partnership, or a working relationship? Cricket has given me all three.
I was a 16-year-old schoolboy in Wales when Ajit Wadekar’s Indian team was on tour in England for three Test matches, and it was to be my first association with Indian Cricket. It was 39 years ago on July 14, 1971, when the Welsh County, Glamorgan, were hosting India in Cardiff, the capital city of Wales. I recall the day so vividly: it was baking hot (yes, England used to have summers then!) and Glamorgan were in the field.
I was sitting with some of my school friends watching these great Indian cricketers — Gavaskar, Baig, Wadekar, Vishwanath, Abid Ali, Engineer, Venkataraghavan, Kirmani, Govindraj, Bedi and Chandrasekhar — strut their stuff in temperatures more akin to Cochin than Cardiff.
Gavaskar and Baig opened for India and stroked an opening partnership of 71. It was beautiful to watch. Vishwanath caressed a half-century and then Farokh Engineer displayed his typical belligerence as Glamorgan’s cricketers wilted under the blazing sun.
It was just before lunch when the then Glamorgan secretary (and former club captain) Wilfred Wooller came out of nowhere and stood in front of us bunch of schoolboys and pointed straight at me: “Young Wilkins,” he ordered, “have you got your cricket kit with you because we need you to field for Glamorgan right now!”
I must have spluttered something fairly inaudible to him because he repeated the order but louder this time and then added, “Get up to that Glamorgan dressing room and find some kit…you’re playing.”
With an embarrassed look and a shrug of my shoulders to my friends implying that I did not have a clue as to what was going on, I headed for the door at the pavilion with the stairs leading up to the Glamorgan dressing room. I knocked on the door rather sheepishly, but I needn’t have, because in a second I was thrown into the room by Mr Wooller, who then shouted to the array of white-clad cricketers all around me, “Right, this is Alan Wilkins, he is a young cricketer with Cardiff, and he is going to show you lot how to field and how to throw a cricket ball properly!”
I was horrified! Here in front of me were my Glamorgan heroes and they were getting an ear-bashing and it was embarrassing! Here was Majid Khan, the great Pakistan batsman; Roy Fredericks, the great West Indian batsman, and Tony Lewis, Glamorgan’s Captain, who would in a few months’ time skipper the MCC team to India.
What had happened is that a number of Glamorgan’s players had been suffering a bout of sickness and in the heat of this exceptionally hot summer’s day, they were going down like flies, so I was called upon to get on the field as a twelfth man. I was given a kit — I wore Tony Lewis’s cricket flannels and maybe his boots as well, but I cannot to this day remember whose shirt I wore!
What happened in the next few hours was the stuff made of schoolboy dreams. Here I was on the field against some of India’s greatest cricketers and I loved every minute of it. For the record, India scored 284 in their first innings (Engineer 62 not out) and I did not disgrace myself at all in the field. I was on cloud nine, so even if I did have a bad day, it wouldn’t have mattered.
The problems started after the close of play when I began to feel a bit queasy. I was now home, but my temperature had raced up and I was in the land of the fairies. My parents had to call the doctor to the house, and he diagnosed heat-stroke.
I woke up the following morning but was not well enough to rush down to the cricket and the doctor had said that I must not go out into the sun again. I did sneak out, though, and managed to watch Majid Khan stroke a handsome 78 in Glamorgan’s total of 203, where India’s spinners, Venkataraghavan (6/76) and Bishen Bedi (3/66) weaved their spell on the Glamorgan players.
For the rest of the match, I was a spectator and was more than happy to be one, because India declared their second innings on 245/6 with the captain, Ajit Wadekar, scoring 73, and Glamorgan were left to score 327 to win. They were bowled out for 224 with Bedi taking 6/93 and Venkataraghavan 3/97. India won the match by 102 runs.
Is there a moral in this story? Well, I think that luck plays its part. I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I have often been in the wrong place at the wrong time! But if there is something we should instill in our youngsters, that is to take your chance when you can and go out and enjoy it to the full. You’ll never know the rewards until possibly later in life.
Eight years later, I was to play for Glamorgan against India, this time on tour under the captaincy of Kapil Dev, and it was another memorable occasion for me, but maybe a story for another time!
ALAN WILKINS is a TV broadcaster for ESPN Star Sports. Inside Edge will appear every alternate week
