Review: I Have the Streets by Ravichandran Ashwin
In his memoir, cricketer Ravichandran Ashwin talks about his journey from his Chennai childhood to the apex of Indian cricket
At 4 pm on a summer day in 2010, Ravichandran Ashwin stepped out to play cricket. This was on 1st Street in Ramakrishnapuram in West Mambalam, Chennai. A lamp post was the wicket. As they played, scooters and bikes passed by. When there were pedestrians on the pavement, they stopped playing. For the 24-year-old, it was a fun reminder of his childhood days.
Soon, a young man walked past, accompanying an elderly lady. There is a temple and a hospital nearby. The man recognised Ashwin. He made the lady wait near the temple. Ashwin was batting. He hit a ball and set off on a run and made it to the other end, without getting out.
The man came up to Ashwin and shouted, “If only you had done this drop-and-run at Chepauk, Chennai Super Kings (CSK) would have taken the two points and would not be struggling [now].” Nine days earlier, in a match against Kings XI Punjab, Ashwin needed to get one run off the last two balls. But he failed to do so. The match ended in a tie. Later, CSK lost in the tie-breaker.
In the prologue to his autobiography, I have the streets — a Kutti Cricket Story, co-written with Sidharth Monga, Ashwin says, “When I lose something in life, when I see no other light, I turn to this cricket on the street with some of my best friends. Everything changes, but not the joy I experience when I play here.”
In the foreword, former Indian captain Rahul Dravid states that the book will have wider appeal because anyone who has ever bowled in a dusty lane will relate to it. “So will anyone who has ever dreamed of hitting a match-winning six for their national team; anyone who has juggled studies and sport and spent the last few days before exams in a boot camp of sorts with their friends”.
The story begins when Ashwin is five years old. He had health issues like tuberculosis and regular bouts of wheezing. Once the family had planned to go on a holiday to Kodaikanal. On the train, Ashwin started vomiting. The parents had no option but to step off and take their son to the doctor. But it seemed Aswin was destined to be a cricketer. His father, Ravichandran, worked in the accounts section of the Indian Railways. He was also a fast bowler who played lower-division league cricket. Once, during a match, Ashwin saw his father send the bail flying with a ball.
Ravichandran took Ashwin to watch a Test match between India and England. Ashwin saw Sachin Tendulkar bat and Anil Kumble work his magic with the ball. India won the match by an innings. Father and son went to the commentary box. They got an autograph from batting legend Sunil Gavaskar. Soon, Ashwin got interested in cricket and was enrolled at the local YMCA to learn to play. By the time he was 14, his wheezing stopped and he was doing well in the local circuit. Ashwin was selected to play for Tamil Nadu in the South Zone Under 14 tournament. The good performances continued.
When he was selected to play for the India Under 17 team, he faced what most cricketers from South India face. Since he cannot speak fluent colloquial Hindi, which is the lingua franca among coaches and players, they laughed at him. “I felt left out, humiliated and intimidated,” he said.
A term which also irked Ashwin was when players from the rest of India said, “Yeh to Madrasi hai.”
Ashwin wrote, “I am from Madras and I am proud of it even though it is now called Chennai. I will forever be proud of the city on whose streets I’ve spent most of my life. Playing cricket, talking cricket, celebrating festivals and New Year’s, building friendships, travelling these streets to go to cricket practice and the movies….”
He describes his selection for the Ranji Trophy, being dropped from matches, learning to be resilient, and learning from senior off-spinners how to make field changes and bowling variations to get wickets. By constantly playing and practising, Ashwin became adept at the art of spin bowling.
He also writes about his experiences as a member of Chennai Super Kings in the Indian Premier League. He says that the one player who amazed him the most was Australian batting great Matthew Hayden.
Before their first match against Kings XI Punjab, as the players congregated in the dressing room, Hayden said, “Sreesanth and Brett Lee will come running at me. They will try to shape the ball back into me to try and knock me over. But I am going to just walk straight at them and try to go right over their heads. And I’m going to go really hard. They will come at me, but I will be nasty to them. I will show them who is the boss.” Yes, Hayden did show them that he was the boss.
There is an absorbing section where Ashwin describes his interactions with former Indian captain MS Dhoni. “Each captain is different,” he writes. “Some can make donkeys run. Some people can buy wounded horses, treat them, train them and make them run. But MS Dhoni will only make a racehorse run. He needs to be convinced before he makes you run. If he doesn’t believe you are a racehorse, he’ll probably give you the time to become one, but he won’t make you run if you aren’t there yet.’
This is a charming book written in a lucid style. It presents a picture of Ashwin’s life and career, the setbacks and the successes. Nothing comes easy. Grit, resilience, hard work and a dollop of luck are required. While the book will appeal to all cricket lovers, it will be a revelation for those who are trying to make their way from junior cricket to the Indian team.
Shevlin Sebastian is a senior journalist. He is the author of The Stolen Necklace; A Small Crime in a Small Town.
