When he was wheezing in Chennai, Ravichandran Ashwin’s mother had him give up the long run and bowl slow. Now, 507 Test wickets later, it’s safe to say mother knows best.
And when he addressed the media before his landmark game in Dharamsala, Ashwin made the familiar if unusual gesture, acknowledging the sacrifices his family had made in allowing him to ply his trade as an India cricketer.
It’s clear that Ravichandran, the father, and Chitra, the mother, did all they could to allow their son to succeed in cricket. Then came Prithi, Ashwin’s spouse, who backed him up as much as she could. And then the children.
In time to come one of them may decode Ashwin, but, for the moment, he remains a slight mystery.
Ashwin might be outspoken and frank, in a manner of speaking, but it’s not always easy to understand where he’s coming from. As a bowler, he is always making the most of himself, trying different things.When he could be the stereotypical Madrasi sipping coffee and sitting still, he’s like the chef who just discovered sweet potato and is finding twelve ways of serving it up. The bottom line with Ashwin is a thirst for excellence and the relentless pursuit of taking his team’s cause forward.
If you claim to understand Ashwin or can read his mind, that may be slightly fraudulent as his thinking changes in a blink of an eye. Ashwin does not need coaching, because he thinks about the game so much, every minute and every second that nobody can keep up.
Yet, there is one person, who saw something in a teenage boy, and worked with him back in the day, who can shed light on how this legend was made. WV Raman, coach of the Tamil Nadu team when Ashwin was making his way through the ranks tells ET Sport what he saw then.
“I always preferred people who were their own selves. They should not try to do something which is not in their DNA. What happens is that it creates confusion for everybody. And that will not help a cricketer,” says Raman recalling the time when he met a young Ashwin.
“Most of the time cricketers are left to be thinking what they need to say rather than what they need to do.”
What was it like dealing with this thinking, some might say, over-thinking young man? “Because you’re coaching a cricketer you cannot enforce yourself on how a cricketer walks, how he talks, how he does things,” says Raman.
“It’s not about helping a cricketer develop his skills or work on his talent but to encourage the person to be as they are without being rebellious or going against the establishment.”
What Raman remembers about Ashwin is crucial. “He was confident and always a willing student. He had a hunger to play this game and he was driven in his own way,” says Raman. “To me, whenever he finishes up, with how many ever wickets and runs, I’ll doff my hat to him because he has succeeded in a sport without necessarily being endowed with the main attribute that is required in cricket, which is coordination. I say that without being critical, in the most positive sense.”
As a cricketer and coach of the highest pedigree, Raman’s observations are critical. “Coordination is key in cricket and it comes naturally to a Kapil Dev or AB de Villiers. Ashwin was not endowed with it, but to stay the course, to keep working physically, to overcome all the hurdles he faced, he’s done a terrific job.”
What Raman saw, back then, was the right mindset. “Ashwin might not have given you the impression that he was a natural cricketer. But the hunger he had and the keenness he had, the appetite he had to learn, the willingness to find a way, that was key.”
Fortunately for Ashwin, there was a coach who put his players front and centre. Someone who looked for the right elements. “If you see this in a youngster, you have to encourage this,” says Raman. “There is no saying how things will pan out for anybody in cricket.”
It’s panned out very well for Ashwin and India.
