Chaminda Vaas was never purely about raw pace or theatrical intimidation. He was about craft. A left-arm seamer with immaculate control, subtle movement and relentless accuracy, Vaas could make a new ball swing, seam or move sharply inward into a batsman before settling into the kind of pressure that eventually broke them.

Vaas took 355 wickets in 111 Tests and 400 in 322 ODIs, becoming Sri Lanka’s most prolific fast bowler in both formats. He could bat too, scoring more than 3,000 Test runs – which includes a century. But his defining quality was simple: he made precision feel dangerous, and that came to the fore at the 2003 World Cup, where he emerged as the leading wicket-taker with 23 wickets.

Now 52, and sporting a striking silver mane, Vaas remains closely involved with the game as a coach and mentor. He was recently in Hyderabad for a mentorship stint with the Palamuru Strikers in TG20. In an interview with The Hindu, he talks about the evolution of fast bowling, the demands of modern cricket, his coaching experiences around the world, and memories of Sri Lanka’s iconic 1996 World Cup triumph. Excerpts:

You have worked across the world with various franchises as a mentor and coach. How has that experience been?

With subcontinent players, their maturity takes some time to develop, and their game understanding can be a bit limited early on. But once they mature, they learn quickly. I always tell youngsters that discipline and fitness are the two things you cannot compromise on in this sport. If you’re committed to becoming a cricketer, you have to sacrifice a lot — but if you commit to yourself, I’m sure you can succeed. The way youngsters in India have stepped up and delivered for Indian cricket has been amazing.

You played over 100 Tests and 300 ODIs. Those are remarkable numbers for a fast bowler, given how brutal the game is on the body. With today’s focus on nutrition and fitness science, players still seem to break down more often. Is there anything about modern training or diet that makes you think, “We never needed that to play this much cricket”?

I’m not going to argue with the science. A lot of new methods and logic have come up. But one thing I do believe is that the amount of cricket today’s youngsters play can sometimes be too much. As I said earlier, fitness is the most important thing. If you’re physically strong enough to support your mindset, that matters most. You need to look after yourself, time things right, and stay focused, especially fast bowlers. If you want to play longer and perform well, fitness comes first, along with proper rehab and the right diet.

You were known for your late in-swingers, especially to right-handed batters. What are your thoughts on swing bowling in the current era?

After watching the last edition of the IPL, most bowlers don’t swing the ball much anymore. The game has become a batsman’s paradise. But I still believe bowlers who can swing the ball and hit the right areas can take wickets. The number of balls going for boundaries is higher than bowlers might expect, but I’m confident that bowlers who focus on swing can still take plenty of wickets.

Left-arm fast bowlers seem to carry a certain aura that right-arm bowlers don’t quite have…

Left-armers are unique; they are a special breed. When they start bowling and try to perform, they always focus and give their best. I’m not saying right-armers don’t, but left-armers bring something special, and they tend to do things the right way.

The game has become batsman-dominated, thanks in part to T20 cricket. If you were coaching an up-and-coming 18-year-old left-arm pace bowler today, would you tell him to focus purely on swing, or on developing variations? What’s the right balance?

As a bowler, you have to keep it simple. My philosophy as a coach – for bowlers or batters – is not to complicate the game. If you overcomplicate things, they won’t go your way; if you keep things simple, the game itself is simple. Especially in fast bowling, I always say: do the right things. The batter will come after you, but remember, you have six balls to his one chance. If you bowl good areas and good lines consistently, you’ll get your wickets and keep the batter under pressure.

You spoke about your relationship with Muralitharan. When you trained together, how many times did you face him, and did you ever figure him out by the end of your career?

It was always very difficult for me to read him. He’d bowl the off-spinner or the doosra, and I never quite got the better of him. Nor he of me! But yeah, he was very hard to face. I could see why he became such an important bowler. Every time he practised, he’d bowl right until the end of the session. That’s the kind of dedication and potential that made him the number one bowler in the world.

This year marked the 30th anniversary of the 1996 World Cup win. Did the team have a group chat to reminisce, or do friends and family bring it up with you on the anniversary?

We celebrated in Malaysia this year. One of the Sri Lankan community groups organised it there. We went as a team and had a really good time. Even though Sri Lanka is a small country, a group of us — three or four guys at least — meet up regularly and share memories. We had a great time in Malaysia, even played a game together.

It’s been 30 years, and you’ve spoken about that campaign a lot. But is there one behind-the-scenes story that not many people know?

Nothing specific comes to mind, but if I have to mention something, then I will say that we had a tough time in 1996. After touring Australia, we had a terrible tournament there, and then there was the Motera incident and a few other setbacks. We went into the 1996 World Cup as underdogs, but we played as one family. I remember our captain, Arjuna Ranatunga, telling us that it was a very important tournament. He told us not to show off, but to play well from game one. He always encouraged the youngsters, and that’s how we came together as a team and won the World Cup.

You’ve had a 30-year career across various franchises, and interest in the sport has only grown. Tell us about dressing-room life, something fans never really get to see or understand, especially with the national team.

It depends on the format. A Test match is totally different from a one-day game. In Tests, you get up every morning and come back to the dressing room, whether things are going well as a team or not, you have to face it together. There are ups and downs, but as a player, you deal with all of that in the dressing room.

In one-day cricket, it’s similar, we always support and encourage each other and try to give our best, whether we’re representing our country, playing county cricket in England, or playing franchise cricket. You need a good rapport with your teammates wherever you play.

On a lighter note, during your time with the Sri Lankan national team as a player or coach, who was the most fun or chaotic player to have around?

There are a few, like Akila Dananjaya and Lasith Malinga. They’re all so interesting, always asking questions. Even before going to bed, they ask about how to face a particular ball. I loved working with them, and I have a lot of experience with that group. It’s great to see them doing so well now.

You played in the Indian Premier League with Deccan Chargers. What’s your most striking memory from that time with the franchise?

There were so many exceptional cricketers in that dressing room – Adam Gilchrist, Herschelle Gibbs, Andrew Symonds, Shahid Afridi, Rohit Sharma (who’s gone on to do wonders for Indian cricket), VVS Laxman. Learning and sharing with them taught me so much. We won the IPL title in 2009 in South Africa, playing as a true team. Everyone gave their best when it mattered. Coming from different countries, we became like a family, sharing everything.

Michael Atherton is regarded as the greatest English opening batter of his generation, almost a natural successor to that other wonderfully accomplished technician who also hailed from the north of the country and who will rank among the top openers of all time, Sir Geoffrey Boycott.

Earmarked for the English captaincy from very early in his career – remember the famous FEC (Future England Captain)? – the Lancastrian was a grand mixture of technical expertise and remarkable concentration. He was a pleasing stroke-maker, without a doubt, but stroke-making won’t be the first thought when one hears the name Michael Atherton.

At a time when English batting was desperate for solidity at the top of the order, Atherton loomed as the panacea, his unflappability instilling a sense of calmness and confidence within the batting groups. In a career spanning 115 Tests, the currently 53-year-old articulate and understated commentator and analyst produced numerous fantastic essays, as is to be expected. It is his highest Test score, however, that is still spoken of with awe and reverence, not just by those privileged to watch it first-hand or those who saluted his commitment on television, but even by those of succeeding generations who might not have seen him negotiate even a single ball during his long stint at the crease.

The epic unfolded at the Bullring that the New Wanderers in Johannesburg goes by. And make no mistake, it truly is an amphitheatre. Even without a single bum on the seats beyond the boundary buntings, Wanderers can be an intimidating stage. Standing in the middle, with neither bat nor ball in attendance, you can feel the stands closing in, the heat rising to your face, hands suddenly clammy and the heart beating at the rate of knots. One can only imagine what it must be like to take guard, gladiator-like, with Allan Donald and Meyrick Pringle and Brian McMillan and a very young Shaun Pollock chomping at the bit, desperate to have a go.

The first Test of the five-match series in 1995-96, in Centurion, had ended in a tame draw with not a ball bowled on the last three days. Pollock, on debut, had provided glimpses of his extraordinary talent with three for 98 from 29 overs while Atherton, the captain, ground out a five-and-a-half-hour 78 in England’s 381 for nine declared.

South Africa called the shots in Johannesburg, Pollock’s three for 44 earning them a 132-run lead which they increased to 478 at which point Hansie Cronje decided he had enough runs, and time, to force a 1-0 advantage. England had to bat out the better part of two days to secure a draw – a tilt at a record target was out of the equation – and the odds heavily favoured the hosts, but no one had told Atherton that.

He wasn’t just obdurate defence. By his own admission, for the first time in his Test career, which was into its seventh year at the time, he felt he was in ‘the zone’, that elusive and intangible state that sportspersons strive for with limited success. He played the hook and the pull – horror, horror – and one ball after being dropped on 99 by Gary Kirsten off ‘White Lightning’ Donald, it was the hook that took him to three-figures. Atherton wasn’t done; the skipper was unconquered and unbowed at the end, unbeaten on 185 — in nearly 11 hours (643 minutes) – after negotiating 492 deliveries in the first of several grand tussles with Donald to shepherd his team to an honourable draw.

This would remain the defining innings of Atherton’s career, one that catapulted him to English folklore. And yet — we say this with no disrespect — Atherton finished his career with no more than a middling average of 37.69. And 16 hundreds from 212 innings.

Perceptions vary

It’s amazing how perceptions vary depending on so many different factors, not least recency bias which might cloud a forensic audit of Ajinkya Rahane’s international career in general, and his Test record specifically. Like Atherton, Rahane – who led India six times in Tests, almost entirely by default – also finished with an average of less than 40 (38.46, superior by more than half a run per innings to Atherton) but where the Englishman is hailed and eulogised, the stylish Mumbaikar leaves behind a feeling of what-if. What if he had converted even a quarter of his (26) half-centuries into hundreds? What if he had sometimes been a little more selfish? What if he had been a little less flamboyant? What if he didn’t have to perform in the towering presence of Cheteshwar Pujara and Virat Kohli? What if…?

But like the great stylist from Hyderabad who took the steel in the Indian batting and fused it with style, Rahane will always be more than his borderline-modest numbers. No, one isn’t falling into the trap of comparing Rahane with V.V.S. Laxman. Not by a long way. For starters, Laxman had far superior numbers – an average of 45.97 – and played numerous more match-altering knocks than Rahane. But like Rahane, Laxman had to operate in the giant shadows of Rahul Dravid and the peerless Sachin Tendulkar and, from midway through his career, the effervescent genius of Virender Sehwag. That Very Very Special managed to carve a niche for himself and more than hold his own in this illustrious company is credit to his magic, of course, but also to a single-mindedness that he doesn’t get enough credit for.

In Laxman’s example was a tack for Rahane to emulate, and a contemporariness that should have been his greatest motivation. But let’s leave that for another day. In his own way, Rahane contributed to India taking not a lot of time in tiding over a tricky transition phase which saw Dravid and Laxman play their last Tests in Adelaide in January 2012 (though no one knew it at the time), Sehwag slowly fall out of favour and Tendulkar walk away into the sunset in November 2013.

Dashing picture

When the mood seized him, which wasn’t too often but not rare as hen’s teeth either, Rahane cut a dashing picture at the crease, powerful off the backfoot and felicitous off the front. Lord’s and the MCG seemed to bring the best out of him, whether because he is a strong student of history and knows the prestige attached with performing optimally there or simply because he liked the pace with which the ball came on to his bat. Strangely for an Indian batter hailed as a very good player of the turning ball, Rahane enjoyed greater success overseas – only four of his 12 tons came in India – which perhaps obliquely explains his average.

In another era, Rahane might have been a longer-term captain, but because of the overlap with first Mahendra Singh Dhoni and then Kohli, he ended up leading the Test side just six times, all in an interim capacity when Kohli was either injured, rested or was away on paternity leave. India won four and lost none of those six Tests, a terrific achievement what with four of those outings against the Aussies, and three in Australia. His captaincy debut, in Dharamshala in March 2017, was sensational; with the series tied 1-1, Rahane heeded head coach Anil Kumble’s advice and unleashed left-arm wrist-spinner Kuldeep Yadav, who rode on tips from Shane Warne to pull the rug from under the feet of the great man’s colleagues. Rahane himself counter-punched as India pursued a tricky target of 106 on a still-spicy deck against a fired-up duo of Pat Cummins and Josh Hazlewood, taking his team home from 46 for two with a racy unbeaten 27-ball 38.

But his greatest hour as leader came in Australia, on the Covid-adjacent tour in 2020-21 when Kohli left for the birth of his first child after the first Test. India looked out for the count after an eight-wicket drubbing in the Adelaide day-nighter, courtesy their lowest Test tally of 36 all out in the second innings. Alongside Kohli, pace ace Mohammed Shami was also ruled out of the series, with a broken forearm.

A 4-0 whitewash was the predicted outcome at that stage but somehow, Rahane masterminded an extraordinary fightback. By the final Test in Brisbane — how India still managed to keep the scoreline at 1-1 remains a great mystery — Rahane had to make do without the services of Ravindra Jadeja, R. Ashwin, Hanuma Vihari and the irreplaceable Jasprit Bumrah. But India weren’t going away, were they? Rahane’s fabulous 112 was the catalyst for an instant backlash in Melbourne and once the skipper had shown the way, how could Pujara and Rishabh Pant and Vihari and Ashwin — who defied a hamstring strain and a back injury respectively to bat out more than three hours and secure a magnificent draw in Sydney in the third Test — not follow suit?

Need of the hour

Australia in 2020-21 was Rahane’s brightest hour, a shining beacon of not just his batting chops but also his tactical awareness, his man-management skills, the uncanny ability to think on his feet and his innate calmness that was more the need of the hour than Kohli’s unquestionable fire. To see his teammates respond to the urgings of their captain was heart-warming; India had a bowling ‘attack’ of little pedigree going into the Gabba decider, but Mohammed Siraj, Navdeep Saini, Shardul Thakur and debutants T. Natarajan and Washington Sundar — this group combined had played fewer than 10 Tests at the time — delivered at the most Australian of venues to set up a spectacular coup taken to its denouement by the steadfastness of Pujara and the enterprise and incandescence of Pant. The Gabbatoir was conquered for the first time in more than three decades, with the leadership group of Rahane and head coach Ravi Shastri at the heart of one of the most extraordinary fairytales in the five-day game.

It’s a shame that Rahane led just once more in Tests, and by the time Kohli decided to call time on his career in South Africa in early 2022, his form had nosedived enough – just three 50-plus scores and no century in his preceding 28 Test innings – for Rohit Sharma to take over as all-format leader. After South Africa, Rahane played a mere three more Tests over the next 18 months before being put out to pasture – some three years before he officially called time on his stirring journey. Cruelly, perhaps, but there is little place for sentiment in competitive sport.

Rahane, though, will remain a sentimental favourite. The eternal crisis-man but not a fair-weather fill-the-boot types. Maybe that’s something he should have been better at. Thanks for the entertainment, Jinks. And the Border-Gavaskar Trophy, of course.