Lala Amarnath is dead.

When I heard the news, my first thought -- memory, rather -- is something I find a touch embarassing to recall today.

I was much younger then, and addicted to playing cricket, but not necessarily to following cricket through radio commentary, which was all that was available at the time. My dad, though, was a commentary freak -- and given the volume levels he preferred, you had no choice but to hear it, if you were in the same room. Or even same home.

That was how I heard the voice of Lala Amarnath, for the first time. And my initial reaction was a kind of sneering contempt. You know how it is -- the drawling voice, the mispronounced English, these are the first impressions I got, and in my youthful arrogance, I couldn't be bothered to look beyond.

I remember the day that changed. I was reading something, with the commentary droning on in the backdrop, when I heard Lala talk of a particular batsman who was having a lot of trouble picking the googly. I heard him talk of why it was happening, and how the real trick was to keep your eye fixed on the bowling hand, and wrist, as it came from behind the bowler's back.

He explained the theory of spotting the googly at some length. And it came at a time when I was feeling considerably foolish because try as I would, I could never seem to read the damn things right, in nets or in match-play -- to the considerable amusement of my team-mates.

Next time round, I tried putting Lala's thoughts in practise. No, there were no overnight miracles -- but in time, I learnt to figure it out. And became a better batsman for having listened, that day. Incidentally, I also learnt to look beyond the superficialities, and to listen (if I could help it, I never strayed far from the radio when Lala was doing his expert gig in the commentary box). Which lesson, I think, served me even better than the one on reading googlies.

His sons were considerably more fortunate -- they had a fount of cricketing wisdom to sip from, for free. Mohinder 'Jimmy' Amarnath, for one, thought the world of his dad, and made no secret of it. Of course, there was that wry grin when he talked of how tough a taskmaster his father was -- on one occasion, he remarked, that there were times when he would get out cheap, return to the pavilion and there, in full public view, be scolded like a snot-nosed schoolboy who hadn't done his homework.

But more often, Jimmy Amarnath talks of his father's influence on his own cricketing development. Most especially, of that period when he was down, and seemingly out, after being dismissed by the Windies quicks for more ducks than you find on a farm.

Next thing you know, he is back. And through his deeds in Pakistan and the West Indies, getting the reputation of the best batsman in the world against pace bowling. The reason? His father, as Jimmy told all who would listen.

Lala worked on his stance. Lala improved his backfoot play. Lala worked on his son's mind. And the difference was as obvious as day and night. Previously, Mohinder was the sort of batsman who, when he took stance, even inoffensive spinners contemplated bouncing him, knowing the short ball as a surefire weapon. After that intense session with his father, the selfsame Jimmy became known through the cricketing world as a happy hooker, someone it was fatal to bowl short to.

There are many, many more instances that come to mind. And cumulatively, they deepen the sense of loss that I feel now.

That man -- rated by all who came in contact with him as a fine human being -- is now lost to us. And with it, his wisdom, his knowledge.

And so there is grief.

And with it, there is a thought. How many more Lalas are out there, unhonoured, unsung? Wouldn't a more cricket-friendly Board be honouring them, keeping them in the limelight? I chanced on Lala by accident -- how many others do we miss, simply because there is no one to bring them to our notice?

And that thought breeds another. We have a wealth of cricketing wisdom in our land. We have in our midst masters of the arts of batting, of spin bowling, of fielding, captaincy, you name it.

Shouldn't the board be initiating a programme to harness their knowledge? Shouldn't someone be videotaping them, as they teach us their trade tricks, the secrets underlying their mastery? Wouldn't this be an invaluable resource for all of us, fans and practising cricketers alike?

Wouldn't this be what an enlightened board would do on its own?

Time waits for none of us. Today, Lala is gone. Tomorrow could be the turn of another legend. And with him, would die more wisdom.

Can we afford to be so prodigal?

Prem

Meanwhile, on Rediff's cricket page, Sujata Prakash reads the tehelka.com story on Mohammad Azharuddin. And produces a cry from the heart. Check it out, and more, at http://www.rediff.com/cricket/index.html

We'll be back with you on Monday, with the next instalment of this email diary. Until then, stay well

Mail Cricket Editor