Alexander

A recent obituary notice in The Hindu announced the passing away of a John Alexandar, whose description fits the John Alexander I played along with for Presidency College back in the 1960s. Here’s a piece I wrote on him some time ago.

John Alexander was the character of the team. Stockily built, he batted with excellent technique and steely determination. Never one to run away from a good fight, he was at his best against the strongest opposition, particularly against Engineering College, the reigning champions.

Of Ken Barrington and David Steele, it was said that the Union Jack fluttered in the breeze in front of them when they went into bat. When John crossed the boundary line, it was easy to imagine the Presidency College flag proudly preceding him. 

Like Vijay Manjrekar, the great Indian batsman of the 1950s and 60s, on whose batting I suspect John modelled his, he curbed his strokeplay in the interests of the team. And he would have scored many more runs than he actually did, if only he would play more attacking shots. 

Though he reserved his best for our matches against the senior Engineering side, he played one of his most memorable innings against Engineering ‘B’, the college’s second eleven, when he scored an unbeaten half-century and won the match for our college in the company of No.11 SP Balachandran, adding more than 50 for the last wicket.

The duo returned to the pavilion to thunderous applause from all of us players and the small crowd that had stopped to watch the thrilling finale. John and Bala recall with great pride even today that Venkataraghavan, the captain of the senior Engineering team, and already a Test cricketer, who happened to be watching, shook their hands at the end of the match.

I don’t remember the sequence of events very clearly; I am not sure if we ran into the Engineering ‘A’ team in the final of the same tournament after nearly losing the first round match against the ‘B’ team, but I clearly remember Alexander’s defiance against the strong Engineering ‘A’ attack on more than one occasion. With his neatly creased shirt and trousers, the top button of his shirt unbuttoned, shirt sleeves rolled up to three-quarter length, his moustache on his dark, handsome face slightly twirled up, he presented a grim visage and solid full-face bat to anything Venkataraghavan, Satvinder Singh and Co. sent down. In one fighting partnership, he was the dominant partner and I the supporting one, while he made about 75 runs in a losing cause.  He made the fight all the more enjoyable with his silent nonchalance, which boosted your confidence, too. John tended to be on the stocky side and that completed the Manjrekar-Barrington effect.  

After college, John joined the Customs department, where he rose to be Deputy Collector. Unfortunately, we did not stay in touch after I left for Hyderabad in December 1970. Bala and he had a few telephonic conversations during which they relived their famous last wicket partnership. He apparently complained that though I wrote quite a bit about cricket, I never did mention their great stand in my writings. He also complained I did not try to establish contact with him. Though I did eventually manage to write about the match, I never did indeed call him, the procrastinator that I am, like so many of us. And now it is too late.