During the third session of the first day of a test match in Melbourne between Australia and the West Indies, history was made. It was the 6th Test (which Australia would go on to win and complete a satisfying 5-1 series win).
The historic moment unfolded in this way. Lance Richard Gibbs, right arm off break bowler, playing in his 79th and final test, had Ian Redpath caught by Michael Holding, then just 18 years old and playing in his maiden test series, for 101. It was Gibbs’ 308th test wicket. With it he surpassed the record set by Frederick Sewards Trueman more than ten years earlier.
I haven’t dug into the newspaper archives of that time, but I am sure there would have been talk of him being the greatest spinner if not the greatest bowler ever. After all, Derek Underwood (slow left-arm orthodox), who ended with 297 test wickets (in 1982) would have been far behind when Gibbs reached 309. Richie Benaud, who retired in 1964 had just 248 test wickets to his name.
Richard Hadlee (431), Imran Khan (362), Dennis Lillee (355) and Bob Willis (325), all fast bowlers were in the early stages of their respective careers and would probably have had quite a ways to go to get to 309.
Morne Morkel did get to 309 but that was in 2018. Thirty other bowlers have surpassed Gibbs since. Of them, only seven are spinners: Daniel Vettori (362), Harbhajan Singh (417), Rangana Herath (433), Ravichandra Ashwin (474), Anil Kumble (619), Shane Warne (708) and Muttiah Muralitharan (800).
Warne and Murali approached the (then) magical number 500 at a time Sri Lanka hosted the Australians in a three-test series. I remember Warne saying something along the following lines: ‘if someone reaches 500 in this series, his team would probably win the series.’ Warne did and Australia took the series. No one talked about Gibbs at the time. No one talks about Gibbs today either.
This is the fate of all those who have had ‘The Greatest’ tag pinned on them or, as in the case of the young Muhammed Ali, pinned it on themselves. Time passes. Records are broken. Others approach, reach and surpass.
Ten years ago who would have thought that three tennis players would win twenty plus grand slam tennis titles and, moreover, would be playing at the same time? Rafael Nadal, Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer: all of them have been talked of as the ‘Greatest of All Time’ or as The GOAT. John McEnroe had that tag as did Bjorn Borg. Ivan Lendl and Pete Sampras won a spate of titles in the 1990s. In the women’s circuit we’e had Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova, Steffi Graf, Venus Williams (in the early days of her career) and of course Serena Williams in GOAT talk. Margaret Court too. Different eras though. Different rules. Different technology. Different pressures.
My friend, the late Sampath Agalawatta never got drawn into such debates although Royal College, under him, won all the rugby trophies on offer, a feat as yet unmatched. He simply said, ‘different rules, it’s now a different game.’
A few days ago, Novak Djokovic won the French Open and thereby broke a tie with Nadal for the most Grand Slam victories. He’s on 23 and counting, Roger Federer (20) having retired and an ageing Nadal (22) plagued by injuries. The GOAT question was laid to rest, most people said. It’s Novak, they said. And he was asked to comment.
Someone, one day, will surpass Novak Djokovic. For now he has laid to rest the GOAT debate in tennis, and not because he holds the record for the most number of grand slam titles.
Other articles in this series:
Encounters with Liyanage Amarakeerthi
Letters that cut and heal the heart
A forgotten dawn song from Embilipitiya
The soft rain of neighbourliness
Reflections on waves and markings
Respond to insults in line with the Akkosa Sutra
The right time, the right person
The silent equivalent of a thousand words
Crazy cousins are besties for life
The lost lyrics of Premakeerthi de Alwis
Consolation prizes in competitions no one ever wins
Blackness, whiteness and black-whiteness
Inscriptions: stubborn and erasable
Deveni: a priceless one-word koan
Recovering run-on lines and lost punctuation
'Wetness' is not the preserve of the Dry Zone
On sweeping close to one's feet
Kumkum Fernando installs Sri Lanka in Coachella, California
To be an island like the Roberts...
Debts that can never be repaid in full
An island which no flood can overwhelm
A melody faint and yet not beyond hearing
Heart dances that cannot be choreographed
Remembering to forget and forgetting to remember
Authors are assassinated, readers are immortal
It is good to be conscious of nudities
Saturday slides in after Monday and Sunday somersaults into Friday
There's a one in a million and a one in ten
Kumkum Fernando installs Sri Lanka in Coachella, California
Hemantha Gunawardena's signature
Architectures of the demolished
The exotic lunacy of parting gifts
Who the heck do you think I am?
Those fascinating 'Chitra Katha'
So how are things in Sri Lanka?
The sweetest three-letter poem
Teams, team-thinking, team-spirit and leadership
The songs we could sing in lifeboats when we are shipwrecked
Jekhan Aruliah set a ball rolling in Jaffna
Awaiting arrivals unlike any other
Teachers and students sometimes reverse roles
Colombo, Colombo, Colombo and so forth
The slowest road to Kumarigama, Ampara
Some play music, others listen
Mind and hearts, loquacious and taciturn
I am at Jaga Food, where are you?
On separating the missing from the disappeared
And intangible republics will save the day (as they always have)
The circuitous logic of Tony Muller
Rohana Kalyanaratne, an unforgettable 'Loku Aiya'
Mowgli, the Greatest Archaeologist
Figures and disfigurement, rocks and roses
Sujith Rathnayake and incarcerations imposed and embraced
Some stories are written on the covers themselves
A poetic enclave in the Republic of Literature
Landcapes of gone-time and going-time
The best insurance against the loud and repeated lie
So what if the best flutes will not go to the best flautists?
There's dust and words awaiting us at crossroads and crosswords
A song of terraced paddy fields
Of ants, bridges and possibilities
From A through Aardvark to Zyzzyva
Words, their potency, appropriation and abuse
Who did not listen, who's not listening still?
If you remember Kobe, visit GOAT Mountain
The world is made for re-colouring
No 27, Dickman's Road, Colombo 5
Visual cartographers and cartography
Ithaca from a long ago and right now
Lessons written in invisible ink
The amazing quality of 'equal-kindness'
The interchangeability of light and darkness
Sisterhood: moments, just moments
Chess is my life and perhaps your too
Reflections on ownership and belonging
The integrity of Nadeesha Rajapaksha
Signatures in the seasons of love
To Maceo Martinet as he flies over rainbows
Fragrances that will not be bottled
Colours and textures of living heritage
Countries of the past, present and future
Books launched and not-yet-launched
The sunrise as viewed from sacred mountains
Isaiah 58: 12-16 and the true meaning of grace
The age of Frederick Algernon Trotteville
Live and tell the tale as you will
Between struggle and cooperation
Neruda, Sekara and literary dimensions
Paul Christopher's heart of many chambers
Calmness gracefully cascades in the Dumbara Hills
Serendipitous amber rules the world
1 comments:
Well written!! Spot on Malinda!!
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