I have been writing about Shivnarine Chanderpaul for more than twenty years, even before he played Test cricket. And I have been watching him bat for longer than that, when he was a schoolboy in the old days when I used to go to the GCC regularly and often sat down with drink in hand to look at Club cricket. It was at one of those Club matches I remember, sitting next to one of Bourda’s old stalwarts who might have been watching cricket there for fifty years, and seeing with him this frail schoolboy studiously and skilfully and staunchly playing out over after over from a couple of quite expert bowlers with assurance and time to spare, hearing the old man say, with an approving shake of the head, the prophetic words: “See that one there – he going to make bowlers cry!” Yes indeed.
Just past the age of 40 Chanderpaul has fashioned what must now be seen as one of the very great Test careers. An extraordinary aspect of this career is that he has steadily got better and better as he has got older. He has become in the years since 2007 a world master. In his career from 1994 to 2001 he played 49 Tests, made 2, 833 runs and averaged 39.34. In the period 2001 to 2007 he played 52 Tests, scored 3, 903 runs and averaged 49.40. And since 2007 he has played 57 Tests, scored 4, 948 runs and averaged an astonishing 71.71. Very few, if any, have ever matured into such a marvellous fruition.
What is noteworthy, and perhaps unsuspected, is that Chanderpaul’s strike rate has gone up in this latter period compared with how he started. In his first 49 Tests his strike rate was 40.56, since 2007 in 57 Tests it is 44.11. It is a myth that Chanderpaul’s scoring has got slower and slower. With rare and wonderful exceptions when he showed for all to see that he had the ability to score as quickly as any of the swashbuckling masters, he has always been a deliberate scorer of runs, he has always valued his wicket highly for the sake of his team and himself. He has always been fully aware of the great batsman’s first rule – you don’t score runs back in the pavilion. He has not got slower. He has simply got better and better until, with an average of nearly 72 in his last 57 Tests, he must be numbered among the very greatest of batsmen who have ever played Test cricket.
The incomparable George Headley strode like an Atlas through West Indies cricket in his time, carrying a disproportionate share of the burden of their batting when he played. Chanderpaul, since the great and charismatic Lara’s retirement, has played much the same role as Headley. Since Brian Lara’s departure Chanderpaul has averaged over 70 while the rest of the West Indies top order has averaged 32, an astonishing statistic of one player’s single-handed and single-minded dependability in a time of frailty. In this period Chanderpaul has averaged a century every 5.7 innings (and think of all those 50s) while the rest of the West Indies top order has averaged a century every 17.3 innings. An Atlas indeed!
One thing is sure, Chanderpaul must be numbered among the very top Test batsmen of all time in one important category. He values his wicket more than almost anyone has ever done. He is in the top five of the all-time list of those who have faced the most deliveries in Test cricket. Here is the list: Rahul Dravid – 31,258; Sachin Tendulkar – 29,437; Jacques Kallis – 28, 903; Alan Border – 27,002; Chanderpaul – 26, 710. And he is still playing so he may climb higher yet. The only batsman in the history of the game who has faced more deliveries per dismissal (with a minimum of 6,000 balls faced) is Rahul Dravid who averaged 123.06. Chanderpaul is second with 122.04. Next on the list are Jacques Kallis – 120.46, Mark Richardson – 118.87 and Steve Waugh – 114.67. It is not a statistic often mentioned – never in the ‘limited’ world of non-Test cricket – but in Test cricket, where occupying the crease is a vital factor in the game, it is very important. And in that respect Chanderpaul stands on the Olympic Cricket podium with Dravid and Kallis.
Especially to those who have consigned Test cricket to history and swear that limited over cricket – and in particular the 20 Twenty variety – is what the game is all about, it may seem strange, but I love watching Chanderpaul bat. His cramped and peculiar front – on stance, his fidgety preparations ball after ball, his still schoolboyish figure standing steady at the crease when it matters fascinate me. His near perfect judgement of what delivery to leave alone and what to play astonishes me. His appreciation of when to nudge for one off the front foot, cut for two off the back foot, stroke for four through mid-off, mid-on or cover, pull for four or stoically and precisely defend I find unique. Why on earth should big hitting be thought preferable to or somehow more admirable than a well-executed single past point or a skilled defensive shot to a good delivery? Music does not have to be loud to be beautiful. An old master’s painting has its place, surely, even in an age of the comic strip.
Ilove Chanderpaul’s batting. An almost fanatic follower of all sports, I am drawn to watch limited-over cricket – in the last few overs of close encounters. But I am drawn to watch Chanderpaul’s batting any time and all the time he plays. For me he stands for something that should never be lost in the great game – superlative skill subtly wrought, patient application of deep knowledge of the game, perseverance through highs and lows, an artistry which does not need to lambast to be successful, the spirit of the master craftsman and genius of his chosen trade.
Long may Chanderpaul continue. He has already secured his place in the pantheon of the very great Test batsmen: 158 matches, 11,684 runs scored with 30 centuries, 65 fifties and an average of 53.10. God of the far pavilions willing, there will be more to come. A master is still at work. He is looking remarkably fit and spry and quick in the field. He does not drop catches. He runs for that vital second run more eagerly then most. And I remember that the great Jack Hobbs after he was 40 years old scored 100 (or was it 98?) first-class centuries before he retired.
