The school where Virender Sehwag learned the game

A remarkable attacking player was fashioned on a patch of grey soil and scruffy grass at a poor school in west Delhi

BLOCK G in Vikaspuri, west Delhi, is not easy to find. The streets are dusty, cramped and chaotic, an immigrant enclave and a far cry from the centre where Westerners in luxury hotels get the impression of the city as verdant, spacious and ordered. But here is the true India and the creative soul of a unique talent in cricket. Block G is home to the Vikaspuri government boys senior secondary school, where Virender Sehwag learned to play the game. It is a modest place, and receives funding from the lower strata of society, but like many state schools in India it is proud of its sport. Its cricket ground takes up as much space as the school buildings and playground. Within feet of the thunderous traffic are four nets and a small pavilion which has painted on the front a smiling cricketer. It ought to be Sehwag but looks more like his hero Sachin. Amazingly, Sehwag still comes here to practice when he’s at home in Najafgarh, the suburb where he grew up a half-hour’s jostling scooter ride away, which was how he was taken to school. Sehwag says that last year, while India toured England without him, he came here regularly to bat against bowlers he had commandeered from Delhi’s Ranji Trophy team, including the 20-year-old Ishant Sharma.

On this patch of grey soil and scruffy grass a remarkable player was fashioned, the most attacking opening batsman the game has seen. His back foot was tied to the net to discourage him from skipping down the pitch and a bag of mud strapped to the back of his bat to enhance the power of his shots. Sehwag’s bats today bear testimony to this regime, the edges of those he uses for one-day cricket are an inch thick.

His father Krishan remained sceptical. He knew the odds of his son making the big time were fantastically long, he feared he might neglect his studies - and he was most unhappy to be presented with a large dental bill one day after his son had been struck by a ball. But he still acquiesced when AN Sharma, the school coach, asked the family to put the third of their four children on a special diet to improve his strength. In wealthier schools across Delhi, legions of conventional batsmen were being produced. One of them was Aakash Chopra, who often came up against Sehwag in schools matches before playing with him for Delhi and, eventually, India. “Things are changing now thanks to Twenty20 but back then most boys were taught to play conventionally,” he recalled. “The only way to succeed was to score big runs in junior cricket and we believed that to do that we had to bat six, seven, eight hours with patience and a good technique, and play each ball on its merits. When you hit the ball through the covers, it must go along the ground, not in the air. But Viru was different. He had the talent, coordination and strength to hit the ball out of the park. He was a middle-order batsman who was extremely confident playing spin bowling but quite restricted against the quicks. He was not particularly comfortable against them. He was strong but never athletic. I didn’t think he would make it."

Sharma confirmed that he did not seek to steer Sehwag away from his attacking instincts. “I never encouraged him to play defensively. I told him, ‘Keep your bat and pads together but hit it, don’t kiss it."

Early impressions were of a talented chancer. A quarter of Sehwag’s dismissals were due to run-outs or stumpings — the tethered foot only worked up to a point — and he had missed out on India’s provisional squad for the Under-19 World Cup until Sharma lobbied for him to be given a trial. Owais Shah and Graeme Swann, who faced him for England in that tournament, have no recollection of how he played.

A few months later, though, in his first first-class innings, Sehwag hit 118 from 147 balls against a Haryana attack containing three spinners on what Chopra recalled was a rank turner. “I remember thinking that if this was the way he was going to play, it was going to be pretty special.”

Sehwag’s great gift after his talent was his capacity for hard work. Over the next two years he improved dramatically against fast bowling, to the point where in a zonal match at Mohali in early 2001 he blazed his way to 162 from 190 balls in seaming conditions. Even Zaheer Khan was unable to stop him running amok; he was still hitting boundaries even with nine men on the rope. It was an outrageous display.

Later that year he scored a century on Test debut against South Africa and nine months after that was opening the innings for India for the first time during a tour of England. He scored 84 at Lord’s, 105 at Trent Bridge and has since never really batted out of the top two. But he needed some convincing that this was the best place for him to bat. Sharma says Sehwag argued for 30 minutes before giving in.

Some astonishing tours de force have followed. He has broken several fast-scoring records and is the only India batsman to score a triple-century, something he has done twice. But the risks are high. He was dropped from the team last year and, for all his match-turning heroics in Chennai, it has been 14 innings since his last hundred. But what an innings that was, an unbeaten 201 against Muttiah Muralitharan and Ayantha Mendis while his team-mates floundered.

“Viru has changed the definition of what it takes to open the batting in Test cricket,” said Chopra, who opened with Sehwag during 10 Tests in 2003-04. “I grew up wanting to bat like Michael Atherton, in traditional mode, leaving the ball outside off stump, but Viru has turned everything on its head. His speed and consistency are remarkable. He has developed so much time against the quickest bowling in the world.

“He backs himself no matter how often he fails. There will be those advising him to change, but he won’t. He is a little bull-headed. He knows his own mind.”

Chennai was a classic case in point. Sehwag was out in what seemed reckless fashion in the first innings, dragging an attempted cut into his stumps, but he still went out and played in exactly the same way in the second innings, tearing into the England bowling.

Matthew Hayden has also brought unusual aggression to the business of opening the batting but his strike-rate lags well behind Sehwag’s and he scores in more predictable areas, focusing on hitting down the ground. Where Sehwag differs from most openers is in the flamboyance of his backlift, which for sheer outrageousness bears comparison with Brian Lara’s. Generally, the higher the backlift the greater the risk of things going wrong on the down-swing. But Sehwag still brings down the bat very straight, even for those lacerating horizontal strokes he plays through backward point, where he scored so many of his runs in India’s run-chase in the first Test. For all his phenomenal success, Sehwag remains the same shy, compassionate person. “He is a very humble, down-to-earth boy,” Sharma said. “When he comes back to see us, he is just the same as he always was.”

Source : Timesonline