Anil Kumble and his trusted, worn out India cap, on another head it might have been just another cap, finally walked out for the last time at his favourite Kotla. They could no longer disregard the plaintive cries from his body. In recent times it had complained of wear and tear but was happily subservient to his heart. And so he played through unbearable pain, jabbing himself all over, but not letting a soul know, as he strove towards one final ambition: winning another series against Australia.

The announcement itself was typical of the man: no grandstanding, no ostentation, no farewell tour. Anything else would have jarred, it wouldn’t have been Kumble. One of the greatest team-men the game has known did his job and said good-bye. In his last Test match, he had eleven stitches and was under general anesthesia for half a day. When the numbness vanished, when the body was over-ruled once more, he returned to take three more wickets.

He has timed his exit well. He wasn’t hurrying batsmen the same way and the rocket ball, the fast topspinner that has fooled many, was a rare sighting. It was inevitable. The mind schemes, plans every ball, but the body bowls it. It was taking too much out of him. And so in later years he developed the slow, loopy googly, put more fizz into the leg break and kept coming at the batsmen. He never shirked. That is why batsmen respected him and captains wanted him.

... contd.