The 1988 Sharjah Cup was special for the Amarnath family; the organizers decided to honour my father and me as beneficiaries. The international cricket calendar was packed with limited-overs tournaments at Sharjah in April, the Asia Cup in Bangladesh in October, followed by a home series against New Zealand. With Lady Luck smiling down on me at Sharjah, I scored a century, followed by another half-century against New Zealand. India won the tri-nation cup in a close encounter.
The Asia Cup in Bangladesh was expected to be tougher competition with Sri Lanka and Pakistan as opponents. Dilip Vengsarkar returned to lead the team. India won the opening match against Bangladesh comfortably. However, the next encounter did not bring us joy. Sri Lanka proved to be a tough nut to crack; India lost the match in a tight contest. I remember this game not for our defeat but for the captain’s tirade from the dressing room balcony against the batsmen occupying the crease. It left everyone aghast!
Despite the loss, the morale of the team was high. The rivalry against Pakistan brought out the best in me. Fortunately, everyone jelled with each other. Determination and enthusiasm were the key factors in our solid performance. Being the senior-most player, I remember offering advice to the captain on more than one occasion. Though the target set by Pakistan for us was modest, the conditions favoured bowlers, which tested our experience and skills. I guided India to a comfortable victory with an undefeated 74, enabling us to find a place in the finals against Sri Lanka. Ultimately, India won the Asia Cup.
Immediately after the final, Dilip and I got busy discussing New Zealand’s forthcoming tour of India. I suggested that Navjot Singh Sidhu open the innings with Srikkanth; Dilip wanted me to bat onedown while he was comfortable at number four.
I went to Bombay to complete the shoot of a cricket coaching video I was producing. To focus on my cricket, I opted to train at Wankhede Stadium with a bit of knocking. On the second day, a journalist approached me and asked about the Indian team selection. I ignored both the question and the person. Nevertheless, the journalist revealed that there were two changes from the Asia Cup squad, though I was expecting one of the two keepers to be excluded. He dropped a bombshell naming Chandrakant Pandit and me as the two players omitted for the Bangalore Test match. Shocked as I was, I continued with my training without any expression or emotion. However, deep down, there was a hollow feeling. Not sure whether to believe him, I wondered why anyone would play such a cruel joke. I looked around for the truth. At that moment, I spotted Polly Umrigar; his body language and expressions confirmed my worst fear.
I went to the dressing room and sat down all by myself. The bubble burst and my emotions flowed without restraint. For the first time in nineteen years of international cricket, my eyes were moist but the pain was gone. And, at that moment, I told myself that I had enough of this nonsense (dropped for the twelfth time) and would take it no more. I decided to expose the antagonists in the way my legendary father, Lala Amarnath, would have done. After all, I was a chip off the old block. I could no longer continue to be a whipping horse; I had to become the master of my fate.
Support and sympathy poured out for me from all corners of the country. Many former Test players were equally surprised. The former national selector and Test cricketer Pankaj Roy said, ‘An injustice has been done to Mohinder. I was very surprised to find his name missing from the squad. He is a very competent player.’ Gavaskar’s words were similar: ‘Another injustice has been done to him.’ The former Test cricketer from the South Zone C.R. Rangachari said, ‘Absolutely unwarranted; a cricketer of such calibre should not have been kept out of the series.’
My wife and daughter were in England, and my parents in Delhi; I felt lonely. To make my next move, I had to think quickly. The next morning, I left my bed rather reluctantly to train, not as a compulsion but as a routine to remain fit and healthy. Thereafter, I hardly stepped out of my room at the Cricket Club of India, hoping this news had not travelled to England. But of course, it had. Bickoo called me with moral support to raise my spirits. She also shared my anguish. I called Papaji in Delhi to share my feelings and sought his guidance. He listened carefully, and endorsed my action of drawing a line and taking the antagonists head-on. Whatever little doubt remained vanished with his wholehearted support and one simple sentence: ‘I am with you.’ That was enough to give me immense strength! However, journalists known to me advised me against this approach. They felt that the establishment was too strong and would harm my career. However, their suggestion did not deter me and I flew to Bangalore on the eve of the first Test match.
The Indian team was staying at Taj West End; hence the presence of the media. It was a perfect place to express my feelings. The moment I entered the lobby, I saw the chairman of the selection committee conversing with two seasoned journalists, Dicky Rutnagur and Kishore Bhimani. My presence startled him. However, I held back my feelings and remained courteous; I exchanged greetings with the three gentlemen. I met another journalist, Debashish Datta from Calcutta; I told him about the purpose of my visit, which excited him. I told Debashish to assemble the media personnel because I wished to express my disappointment at the shabby treatment inflicted on me. The news spread like wildfire amongst the journalists and they reached the designated room for a much-awaited press conference.
I did not waste any time and said, ‘I have undergone disappointments in my career, but this one takes the cake. Time has come to set the record straight and speak my mind. The present set of selectors are unfit for this job. They are a BUNCH OF JOKERS!’ The journalists were taken aback by my vehemence and many jaws dropped. Here was a new Jimmy Amarnath they had never known; I responded to every query and questioned the selectors’ fairness by choosing a player who had not performed in Sharjah and played no role in the Asia Cup, and another player a few years younger than me. ‘If age was a criterion, only one fitted; if it was performance, the board secretary needs a refresher’s course in cricket.’
I continued, ‘In the past too, when the media enquired about my exclusion, the “wise men” fumbled with words and gave conflicting statements. Sometimes it was my present form, other times, the past. Sometimes, I was good only for one-day matches and, next time, suited for Test matches. I do not think they could make up their minds; they seemed confused. Also, the family surname I proudly carry played its part; the caliphs who ran Indian cricket were still allergic to it. My father’s reputation and remarks continue to rattle and rankle with them.’ The reporters jotted down every word and rushed back to the office to print the news. That night, I slept peacefully.
This excerpt from Fearless by Mohinder Amarnath and Rajender Amarnath has been published with permission from HarperCollins India.