7th March 1987: We are in Ahmedabad and India and Pakistan are playing one more dull game, having already played out 10 consecutive drab draws ahead of the encounter. However, in the context of a particular man from Bombay, this is supposed to be the greatest moment for an Indian cricket fan, even eclipsing the romantic beauty of the 1983 World Cup win. With Krishnamachari Srikkanth and Mohinder Amarnath having already been dismissed with just 46 on the board in reply to Pakistan’s first innings total of 395, all eyes are on a certain little fella from Maidans of Mumbai cricket who was born with the scent of bat oil in his nostrils. On the cusp of history, things are golden and infinitesimally awesome for Sunil Manohar Gavaskar and his legion of fans around the world.

“Gavaskar's batting style, based on defence, constructed around the best defensive technique in India's cricket history, was a product of his times. If you were a wage-earner in the seventies, you saved every penny you could, you always put aside something for a rainy day. If you had a job you hung on to it for life. Safety and caution were the defining factors of India's middle class, and it was from such a background that Gavaskar emerged,” Harsha Bhogle once wrote of the man he idolised like almost everyone in the era would have.

The next half a decade that followed his glorious achievement in the Windies tour was a period of great disturbance - he managed just one century, a 101 in a losing cause at Old Trafford in 1974, in the next 26 innings that followed the heroics. But that is how Gavaskar’s legacy endured. He never let the pressure of those failures got to him, always returned to domestic cricket, scored runs like a true master and walked into a phase when success flew like a waterfall. In the five years between 1975 and 1979, the Mumbaikar averaged almost 60, with the world seeing him hit a majestic 221 against England at The Oval. To put things into perspective, in the 10 series he played in these five years, he averaged 50 or more in eight of them, with the shackle hitting 75 in three series.

He was hitting the note at a time helmet was not regulation. In fact, his floppy hat was the augmented fanaticism for the greater good. He was the urban cult hero for Indian cricket, with runs being the only denominator for Gavaskar to appear on screen to sell from Cold Drinks to Sunscreen - literally everything. It never ceased to amaze and the 8000-run barrier set up by Geoffry Boycott and Sir Gary Sobers seemed to be in touching distance. Century-wise, neither of the two had been in close distance.

On that fitting day in Ahmedabad later in 1987, when Pakistan was making all the stuff they could do to beef up the occasion and crush India’s party, Gavaskar stood tall. 9942 runs were already scored, 58 runs were just a matter of time. After Srikkanth and Amarnath were dismissed, Gavaskar continued, with Kiran More for company. Never in a hurry, calm, composed, defending like an obdurate solid rock, unfazed by the occasion. A fifty had now been scored and he raced to 57, unbeaten. Steamed in from the other end did Ejaz Fakih and the spectators were in utter silence, hands in their mouth, waiting for the ultimate occasion. Things could only get better from there and before a long sigh of relief could be released, some business was left to be finished. 

A shot that hit the right note, created an epic.