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PUNE: VVS Laxman perhaps suffered from scoring largely on big occasions. For, big occasions will always be fewer than routine matches. However, it is routine matches which add to the statistics and give an approval of consistency to batsmen’s pedigree.

It’s an acceptable way to separate great batsmen of their eras and all-time great batsmen. That’s a primary reason that Laxman won’t be talked in the same breath as Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar 10 years later.

In 28 home Test innings against England, New Zealand, Sri Lanka and Zimbabwe, he has two Test hundreds combined (Dravid has nine; Sachin 11).

But the same Laxman would become that shade extra alert against Australia and in challenging situations thereby making him more balanced and refined without losing his natural instincts. In six matches in which India faced the follow-on, he averages 100.55! With three hundreds and five fifties. An attacking opposition, counter-attacking instincts and the state of mind elevated his batsmanship on the big stage. And vice versa.

But sadly, match-winners and match-savers win only medals for bravery and heartfelt appreciation from their teammates. They don’t get certificates for excellence or they can’t be in the running for the Bharat Ratna. That’s reserved for politicians, scholars, artistes and peace lovers. Not for warriors. And the likes of Laxman may not yearn for that anyway.

If Dravid and Tendulkar were more unforgiving to themselves for not milking runs against weaker opposition, Laxman perhaps didn’t attach much value to his wicket in such tame situations. So, if he lost his wicket in such low-voltage battles, Laxman treated it as just one of those failures. As long as the team won, he didn’t take it to heart. He may not have been extra concerned about his own failures in such instances. Without perceived solidity of Dravid and Tendulkar, would Laxman have survived his flirting stay with Team India? It’s a matter of debate but it also means you need different batting personalities in a team to make it work.

Laxman’s 281 in the 2001 Kolkata Test against Australia is a monumental knock, the most striking part being he treated every ball as fresh, creating new memory chips in his brain in every phase of his innings but getting rid of old chips in the process. If forgetting his failures against weaker oppositions proved his undoing, he took the art of forgetting what happened on the previous balls to a new level at the Eden Gardens against Australia. Such uncluttered batting made him a stalwart.

The other reason why Laxman gave reason to uncork bubbly against stronger opposition but not-so-great figures against weaker ones is his bat swing. Perhaps, that also explains his lack of a Test century on English and South African soil though he scored a majestic 96 at Durban.

I suspect guys like him, Mohd Azharuddin and Mark Waugh play half from memory. They don’t smell the leather or watch the ball late as much as other classically correct batsmen do. The more they are comfortable and balanced about their grip on the bat (not too tight, not too loose) they prosper. But if they are too tight or too loose, they can get out anytime. To any bowler. To rank bad balls.

Apart from maintaining this delicate balance between alertness of mind and a perfect free-flowing grip which assists wristwork, Laxman’s signature mark was his backlift. Of course, it was not as big as Graham Gooch’s. But it was not as compact as Tendulkar’s. His trigger movement just before the ball was being delivered was amazingly minimal. Being taller, Laxman had to keep the bat in the air for a longer duration. But that momentum of bat could have helped his head and feet remain still.

Laxman’s backlift contributed to the impression that he used the willow like as a magic wand. But creating designs in the air is that much more difficult and presents a bigger chance to bowlers to beat the defence.

The same backlift allowed Laxman to play exquisite shots through the covers, glides which will put Salman Khan’s mock stunts to shame and horizontal bat shots which killed ’em softly. Though he was not brutal as Virender Sehwag, he still needed boundaries to get going. He had the patience to play long innings but it was not that solid to withstand containing field placings (to check the run-flow) on a consistent basis. He understood the value of taking singles and playing dot balls. But without the fragrance of boundaries, his breathing was not musical. Perhaps, that explains his chequered limited-over career and a plethora of soft dismissals.

Laxman was blinded by short-term vision around him. Hence he did not call it quits before the selection for home series against New Zealand. But his inner voice invaded at the right time, thereby stopping Indian cricket from suffering due to selectorial inaction.

Very few batsmen of the modern era command a place in hearts of critics and pure followers despite averaging less than 50 in Test cricket. Laxman belongs to that rare breed. He lived on a double-edged sword that constantly shuffled him between mortal and immortal. But he chose to use his bat not like a sword, more like a brush.

He commands a standing ovation from us for taking this low-percentage, but high-on-joy, journey. And making a decisive difference to the texture of Indian cricket.