When he was wheezing in Chennai, Ravichandran Ashwin’s mother had him give up the long run and bowl slow. Now, 507 Test wickets later, it’s safe to say mother knows best.
And when he addressed the media before his landmark game in Dharamsala, Ashwin made the familiar if unusual gesture, acknowledging the sacrifices his family had made in allowing him to ply his trade as an India cricketer.
It’s clear that Ravichandran, the father, and Chitra, the mother, did all they could to allow their son to succeed in cricket. Then came Prithi, Ashwin’s spouse, who backed him up as much as she could. And then the children.
In time to come one of them may decode Ashwin, but, for the moment, he remains a slight mystery.
Ashwin might be outspoken and frank, in a manner of speaking, but it’s not always easy to understand where he’s coming from. As a bowler, he is always making the most of himself, trying different things.
When he could be the stereotypical Madrasi sipping coffee and sitting still, he’s like the chef who just discovered sweet potato and is finding twelve ways of serving it up. The bottom line with Ashwin is a thirst for excellence and the relentless pursuit of taking his team’s cause forward.
If you claim to understand Ashwin or can read his mind, that may be slightly fraudulent as his thinking changes in a blink of an eye. Ashwin does not need coaching, because he thinks about the game so much, every minute and every second that nobody can keep up.
Yet, there is one person, who saw something in a teenage