Singh Bishan Bedi was in the habit of calling early in the morning. He was going to talk largely about what had kept him awake all night. Bedi held administrators and cricket players to a high level; he was not one to be easily impressed or to suffer fools. On the field, Bedi was a cunning left-arm spinner, but off the field, he was a straightforward romantic who genuinely felt that cricket was a precious island that should be ruled by the values of meritocracy and fair play. Scroll down to read Cricket Giant Bedi Saab Will Be Missed.
Cricket Giant Bedi Saab Will Be Missed
Bedi had just had knee surgery two years prior, following a heart attack and brain stroke. Following a protracted illness and hospital stay, Bedi, 77, departed on Monday. Wife Anju, son Angad, and daughter Neha survive him. India has lost a great cricket player, a wise man, and a fan of the game with his passing.
Wife Anju has been Bedi’s rock for the past two years, supporting him through his convalescence and rehabilitation. “The game is never over until the last ball is bowled,” he would remind the boys. Physicians would frequently tell me, “Bishan continues to fight courageously,” she would remark, watching while Bedi sat in a wheelchair and nodded.
The Bedis had taken up residence in “Cricket Abode,” a farmhouse in Mehrauli, far from the bustle of the capital. The Sardar of Spin was bedridden after being admitted to the hospital; he had difficulty speaking and needed assistance to walk, but his eyes would light up when his wife gave him a cricket ball. Those legendary wrists’ dexterity and power had not been diminished by age or illness. He would spin the ball vigorously while he sat in his garden, and it would whirl in the still evening air.
Throughout his professional career, Bedi’s trademark was the excitement created by the whizzing ball on cricket grounds across the globe. It was a siren to be on high alert for the close-in fielders and wicketkeeper, and an early warning of oncoming danger for the batsmen. It was difficult to read the flight or the faint spin. In addition to 1,560 scalps at 21 in first-class cricket, the deceit would earn him 266 wickets at a 28.71 ratio in Test matches.
Cricketer and commentator Tony Lewis would say, “A clockmaker would have been proud to set Bedi in motion—a mechanism finely balanced, cogs rolling silently and hand sweeping in smooth arcs across the face.”
India’s first away Test victories in England and the West Indies came about thanks in large part to Bedi in 1970–71. He shared 853 wickets in all with Erapalli Prasanna, Bhagwat Chandrasekhar, and Srinivas Venkataraghavan. They would provide India with a model for playing Test cricket and an international identity if they reduced fast bowling to a formality. Generations of new cricketers would be inspired to turn the ball by these pioneers, and even now, when world-class pacers have emerged in the nation, India is still regarded as a fascinating land of spinners.
An avid reader and astute political observer, Bedi got along just as well with Punjabi-speaking North Indian players as he did with his English county counterparts. He was Bish at Lord’s and “Paaji,” the enduring big brother, in Kotla. He went after the English establishment as captain of India, accusing John Lever of using Vaseline. He is known in Delhi cricket circles as the man who broke Mumbai’s monopoly.
Even after retiring, he would continue to have misgivings about Mumbai and its cricketers. “He has shifted to enemy territory,” he would quip when his actor son Angad moved to Mumbai. Possessing a keen sense of humor, he would refer to a parsimonious Mumbai cricket player as “Crime.” He would laugh and say, “Crime never pays,” when you inquired why.
The Delhi players still regarded Bedi as the head of the family even years after he retired. When Bedi was walking the honors after an ODI at Kotla a few years ago, Virat Kohli noticed him past the boundary. He and Shikhar, the other child from Delhi, jumped over the hoarding of advertisements inside the stadium and touched their feet. At Kotla, Bedi’s feet received the most touches.
However, as a man of strong moral convictions, Bedi requested to be removed from Kotla when the cricket administrators in the capital proposed renaming the stadium in honor of the late Union minister, Arun Jaitley. He would write in a bitter letter, “The administrators’ place is in their glass cabins. I’ve heard that the late Arun Jaitley was a skilled politician. Therefore, Parliament, not a cricket ground, is the place where people will remember him in the future.
He was the respected moral voice of India in Pakistan. A picture of him is in the living room of his close buddy, the former captain of Pakistan, Mushtaq Mohammad, in Birmingham, England. It is merely a game, Champion. Play hard and win, but at 630 p.m., I want you to come to my room for a drink. One of the best individuals I’ve ever met, that’s how he was, Muhammad would tell The Indian Express.
However, as a man of strong moral convictions, Bedi requested to be removed from Kotla when the cricket administrators in the capital proposed renaming the stadium in honor of the late Union minister, Arun Jaitley. He would write in a bitter letter, “The administrators’ place is in their glass cabins. I’ve heard that the late Arun Jaitley was a skilled politician. Therefore, Parliament, not a cricket ground, is the place where people will remember him in the future.
Bedi, who was always up for a good battle, challenged the system by siding with the underdog. But he continued to be a proud Indian while doing this.
During the peak of the anti-Sikh riots in 1984, Bedi reconsidered relocating to his Mehrauli property. A Sikh family should not have been in such a remote place. Bedi, uncertain about what to do, considered selling the land and relocating to Amritsar. Seeking guidance, he approached a senior bureaucrat stationed at Rashtrapati Bhavan. The official informed him, “Bishan if I were you, I would leave the country.” “I didn’t say a word, but I was fuming inside,” Bedi would recall the encounter.
I drove off without saying “dua salaam,” got home, and informed my wife that the “For Sale” sign would be taken down from the property. “I don’t care if I die.” I’m not leaving this nation. I informed her, “I have every right to be here.”
Also read, Indian Spinner Bishan Singh Bedi Passes Away at 77 in Delhi
