Tony Becca

IN MY years writing about cricket I have met some wonderful people who played the game, and Hanumant Singh of India was one of them.

Born in Banswara, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, in 1939, Hanumant Singh, the Maharajkumar of Banswara, a prince, and the nephew of the legendary K.S. Ranjitsinhji, represented India in 14 Test matches between 1963/64 and 1969/70. He scored only one century - a stroke-filled 105 against England in Delhi. He missed a century by six runs against Australia in Madras in his third Test when, after India were reeling at 24 for four, he scored 94 before he was dismissed at 191 for nine. He died in Mumbai, formerly Bombay, on Wednesday and was buried on Thursday.

I never saw him bat, but from all accounts, he was my type of batsman - a wristy strokeplayer with twinkling footwork.

A master off the back foot, he was also brilliant off the front foot and especially so while driving through the onside.

According to those who saw Hanumant Singh bat, his on-drive reminded them of England's elegant Peter May, the stroke was later compared with that of India's classic Mohammed Azharuddin - and if that were true, he was truly a magnificent batsman.

I once asked Rohan Kanhai about Hanumant Singh, and the great West Indian batsman confirmed what I had heard.

Tremendous

According to Kanhai, he was good all-round, but tremendous off the back foot - an impression which was underlined, according to Kanhai, in Madras, now Chennai, in 1966/67 when, on his way to a level 50, he went on the back foot and drove, on the rise, a short delivery from fast bowler Wes Hall to the long-on boundary.

"Only great batsmen play those shots - and so easily at that," said Kanhai.

Why then did he play only 14 Test matches?

According to one like his former captain, the Nawab of Pataudi Jr., according to one like the great Indian batsman, Polly Umrigar who died earlier in the month, it was simply that the selectors did not like him. And in those days who the selectors liked, played, who they did not like, did not play.

Why did they not like him? Because he was cool, he was never in a hurry, and they believed he lacked fire.

When he was dropped for the 1967/68 tour of Australia and questions were asked, the chairman of the selection committee said he had failed a fitness test.

Another question was then asked, this time by the media: what fitness, what test?

Hanumant Singh served India's cricket also as a selector and a manager. He served cricket in general as a match referee, and I first met him while he was in the West Indies as manager of the Indian tourists of 1983.

He was a gentleman; he was polite, and everybody loved him. He was always available, was easy to speak to and he was always smiling. He was a perfect ambassa-dor for India's cricket and for India.

We spent a lot of time together talking cricket during that series.

The next time I met Hanumant Singh was during the West Indies tour of India in 1994.

When we arrived in Mumbai, he called the hotel, he asked for Reds Perreira and me. He welcomed us to his country and he invited us to lunch.

Hanumant Singh was a member of the Cricket of Club of India. He took us to lunch at its Brabourne Stadium headquarters and he not only introduced us to everyone in sight, he introduced us as if we were his brothers and we were treated as royalty.

Whatever the reason or reasons may have been, Hanumant Singh, as gifted as he was, never achieved greatness as a batsman. As a cricketer, however, he adorned the game, and as a person, as a man, he was one in a million.