Then Dravid gets dropped from the Indian one-day squad. Yes, he scored only 80 runs in his last 10 one-day innings, but one wonders if any cricket fan in India wanted him dropped, even though we understand the reasoning. In recent years, he was perhaps the most loved of the three, and certainly the most valuable player India had, at least in the longer — sorry, after T20, we now have to say ‘longest’ — version of the game. Of the three, he was the one who we could rely on the most, to stand alone on the burning deck, and quite often, manage to douse the fire. At Adelaide in 2003, after Dravid won the match for India, scoring 305 runs (233 in the first innings, 72 not out in the second), even a usually cautious Sunil Gavaskar was moved to say: “His strength of character shines through in every move he makes on the field. Whenever he goes out to bat, he has his bat in one hand, and in the other, you can almost see the Indian tricolour flying.” That is praise indeed.

Though, to be fair, the virtual Indian tricolour has flown every time any of the Trinity has gone out into the field: Tendulkar walking out, looking up at the sun, twirling his bat; Ganguly looking vaguely disgruntled and blinking rapidly; and Dravid quiet, serious, brooding even. For these men are very different from one another: Tendulkar preferring to do most of his talking through his bat (or ball) other than boyish celebrations at a catch well taken; Ganguly wearing his heart on his sleeve, prone to fits of passion; Dravid simply silent, expressionless, intent on the job at hand. Tendulkar and Ganguly can exhilarate or exasperate; Dravid’s quiet assurance keeps your blood pressure steady, your hopes steadfast.

... contd.