Tanya Aldred: we will miss Test match specialist Rahul Dravid; his duel with Shane Warne was thrilling

Last week I got a train to Portsmouth. As city replaced the gently bronzing countryside, the train passed the old Hampshire cricket haunt, the United Services ground, and Rahul Dravid popped into my head.


Back in July 2000 the old ground was saying goodbye to first-class cricket — a victim of poor pitch reports and an alluring Rose Bowl flouncing her wares over in West End. The summer sun was meltingly gorgeous and there were ice-creams in the press box. The salt on the warm wind seasoned the skin and seagulls patrolled the ground for rogue cheese and onion crisps.

The final championship game at the ground was between Hampshire and Kent, which for that season meant Shane Warne and Dravid — riches unimaginable today. And the match became Warne against Dravid, flamboyance against rectitude, passion against calm, genius against near-genius.

Warne, who had claimed supremacy over Dravid, pulled every one of his multiple tricks; Dravid, who had claimed he could read Warne from the hand, watched, waited and masterfully dispatched; the holiday crowd who had paid just £9 to get in sat in rapt concentration. The winner? Dravid, with 137, 73 not out and a Kent victory to his name. And as he walked off after his 137, every Hampshire player, every spectator and every journalist, stood and applauded.

To see such a duel, such brilliance somewhere so unexpected, only added to the thrill.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Dravid. With his good-boy’s haircut, old-fashioned parting and his long lean but slightly awkward limbs, he has more of the air of an excellent GP than an international athlete.
Tanya Aldred: we will miss Test match specialist Rahul Dravid; his duel with Shane Warne was thrilling - Telegraph