Madras, Pongal and Test cricket — a savoured link of the past

Madras' Pongal Test tradition with cricket legends like Viswanath fades as Chennai's cricket calendar evolves.

Chewing on sugar cane, digging into delicious sweet pongal, and catching a Test at Chepauk were all part of January festivities in the Madras of yore. The Pongal Test was very much part of the sporting calendar, just as the Boxing Day Test (played from December 26) is Melbourne’s preserve.

This is a perfect amalgamation of heritage and cricket, and the fans were eager to be part of this yearly ritual, be it Madras or Melbourne. However, Chennai’s tryst with Tests during the long Pongal break is increasingly becoming a thing of the past.

The last one was held from January 11 to 15 in 1988 when skipper Ravi Shastri unleashed bespectacled Narendra Hirwani upon the perplexed West Indians on a spinning track. The leg-spinner’s match-haul of 16 wickets derailed the men from the Caribbean and an incensed Vivian Richards swore revenge.

Strangely, after this outing, even as Madras gradually became Chennai and remained a key venue for cricketing jousts, the Pongal Test never happened. Prior to 1988, the M.A. Chidambaram Stadium hosted a festival game each in 1967, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1979, 1980, 1982, and 1985.

Some fabulous numbers and results were gleaned from these contests. Old-timers still swear by Gundappa Viswanath’s unbeaten 97 against the West Indies, which set the base for India’s triumph in 1975. This was a knock more valuable than a 100, and one that kept the great Andy Roberts at bay.

It was also a seminal moment that cemented Bangalorean Viswanath’s fandom in Madras, a city that had its sporting heart equally thumping for his brother-in-law Sunil Gavaskar. That was a time when all Tests had a rest-day shoe-horned within and players, fans, and the media looked forward to this break. It is difficult to visualise this in the current era when Tests often end in three days and the rest-day no longer exists.

Those distant Tests were also seasoned with the aroma of flavoured rice, often consumed as lunch by the fans at the ground. Tomato, lemon, tamarind or curd were the preferred additives, and just as the red cherry thudded into a willow on the turf, a helping of rice fortified with pickle would slide down thousands of throats. The seating was mostly basic and old, colourful blankets, called jamakkalams, were spread over the cement slabs.