The Echoes of Eden Gardens at Adelaide: Dravid, Laxman, and the Art of Resurrection

When Time Stood Still

Cricket, like life, is full of moments that defy logic, rewrite history, and blur the line between reality and myth. Some victories are celebrated; others become legends. And then there are those rare, almost mystical performances—etched so deeply into the sport’s fabric that they transcend mere statistics, becoming folklore. 

In 2001, at Eden Gardens, Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman performed what seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime act of defiance, dragging India from the jaws of defeat to an impossible victory against an Australian juggernaut. The world watched in awe, believing they had witnessed an anomaly, a cricketing miracle never to be repeated. 

But sport, in its poetic unpredictability, sometimes loops back on itself. Two and a half years later, at the Adelaide Oval, fate demanded an encore. And when India once again stood at the edge of ruin, it was Dravid and Laxman who walked out—two familiar figures, two warriors of resistance—ready to pull off the impossible once more. 

This is the story of how time stood still, how déjà vu gripped the Australians, and how two men turned resurrection into an art form—again.

Kolkata, 2001: The Miracle That Changed Indian Cricket

For the uninitiated, the events of March 2001 stand as one of the greatest comebacks in the history of Test cricket. At the Eden Gardens, India, forced to follow on, teetered on the brink of an innings defeat against an Australian side that had steamrolled opponents with ruthless efficiency. With 16 consecutive Test wins behind them, Steve Waugh’s men were seemingly invincible. 

Then, something extraordinary happened. 

Dravid and Laxman, batting as though their very souls were forged in defiance, stitched together a monumental 376-run partnership. Laxman, whose artistry with the bat bordered on the ethereal, conjured a masterful 281—an innings that still remains the gold standard of fourth-innings rearguards. Dravid, ever the craftsman, contributed 180, a knock built on resilience and sheer willpower. Together, they wrenched the match away from Australia’s grasp, scripting one of the greatest turnarounds in cricketing history. 

Such miracles are meant to be rare, singular occurrences—etched in folklore and never to be repeated. 

Adelaide, 2003: A Challenge in the Lion’s Den

Yet, two and a half years later, in the unforgiving land of Australia, destiny demanded an encore. The stage was the Adelaide Oval, the second Test of India’s 2003-04 tour. The opposition was no less formidable, even if it bore the scars of Kolkata. 

Australia, led by an imperious Ricky Ponting, had piled on 556 runs, with the skipper himself crafting a breathtaking 242. India, in response, suffered an early collapse. At 85 for 4, their most celebrated batting stars—Virender Sehwag, Sachin Tendulkar, and Sourav Ganguly—had all fallen in quick succession. The visitors were staring down the abyss. 

And once again, the responsibility of resurrection fell upon Dravid and Laxman. 

This time, the roles were slightly altered. Dravid, now India’s No. 3, carried the burden of setting the tone, while Laxman, at No. 6, remained the flamboyant executor of impossible strokes. What followed was a spectacle of grit and grace, a masterclass in revival under adversity. 

A Different Symphony, but the Same Familiar Notes

If Kolkata had been about survival before the revival, Adelaide was about counterattack laced with patience. 

Dravid, usually the guardian of orthodoxy, played with a touch of aggression. His footwork was decisive, his stroke-making more expansive than usual. Any delivery that strayed in length was met with a precise cut, a commanding pull, or a calculated drive. There was an air of adventure in his batting, yet his foundation remained unwavering discipline. 

Laxman, meanwhile, was at his elegant best. His wrists worked their magic, caressing the ball to the boundary with that signature nonchalance. His balance was immaculate, his shot selection instinctive yet audacious. The fielders, much like the spectators, watched in helpless admiration as he sculpted yet another masterpiece. 

By the end of the third day, they had added 95 runs, keeping the embers of hope alive. Australia, despite all their experience, must have felt a shiver down their spine. 

The following morning, they continued from where they had left off, batting as if time had folded upon itself and taken them back to 2001. The eerie familiarity of their partnership began to weigh upon the Australians. 

There was, however, one significant difference. Unlike the near-flawless vigil at Eden Gardens, Laxman was granted two reprieves in Adelaide. But even those required the brilliance of Ricky Ponting—one of the finest fielders of his time—to get anywhere near the ball. 

Dravid, on the other hand, made just one misjudgment all day—a mistimed hook that top-edged for six, ironically bringing up his first and only century in Australia. 

The numbers, once again, told a compelling tale. In Kolkata, they had faced 104.1 overs, amassing 376 runs. Here, they put on 303 in 93.5 overs. The magic was no less potent, even if the figures were marginally different. 

Laxman’s dismissal for 148—attempting an extravagant slash off Andy Bichel—brought their stand to an end just before Tea. But by then, India had climbed from the depths of despair to a position of near-parity at 388 for 5. 

Dravid, however, was far from finished. With unrelenting determination, he carried on, finally falling as the last man out for a majestic 233. His innings had taken India to 523—just 33 runs behind Australia’s formidable first-innings total. 

A New Architect of Destruction: The Day of the Bombay Duck

The psychological scars of Kolkata ran deep, and as Australia walked out to bat again, they seemed to be fighting more than just the Indian bowling attack—they were battling the ghosts of Eden. 

It was Ajit Agarkar, an unlikely hero, who turned the match on its head. In a spell of incisive swing bowling, he scythed through the Australian batting order, claiming 6 for 41. Damien Martyn and Steve Waugh were lured into false strokes by Sachin Tendulkar’s leg-spin, and just like that, the hosts had been bowled out for 196. 

Suddenly, India needed just 230 to win—a target that was tantalizing yet tricky on a wearing fourth-innings pitch. 

Dravid’s Final Act: A Victory Sealed in Stone

If Dravid’s first innings had been about resurrection, his second was about closure. He remained unbeaten on 72, guiding India to a famous four-wicket victory—perhaps not as dramatic as Kolkata, but just as defining. 

The celebrations were subdued, the triumph measured in the quiet satisfaction of a job done with precision. Dravid, ever the embodiment of humility, merely raised his bat and walked off, knowing that he had inscribed his name into cricketing folklore once again. 

The Legacy of Twin Epics

While the Kolkata miracle had altered the course of Indian cricket, Adelaide reaffirmed that it was no fluke. It proved that India could rise, not just in the comfort of their own conditions, but in the lion’s den itself. 

It also immortalized the legacy of Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman. Their names, forever entwined in cricket’s most fabled partnerships, had now been etched into history twice over. 

Lightning may not be meant to strike twice. Miracles may not be destined for repetition. But cricket, in its poetic unpredictability, has its own way of bending time, reviving echoes of past glories. And on that unforgettable day in Adelaide, Dravid and Laxman proved that legends, unlike miracles, have no expiration date.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

The Eden Gardens Miracle: A Triumph of Grit, Glory, and Redemption

Cricket has often been described as a game of glorious uncertainties, but few matches have exemplified this axiom as profoundly as the historic Kolkata Test of 2001 between India and Australia. What unfolded at Eden Gardens was not just a cricket match—it was an epic saga of defiance, endurance, and redemption, culminating in one of the greatest comebacks in the history of Test cricket. It was only the third instance in Test history where a team that had followed on emerged victorious, and for the third time, Australia was on the receiving end of this rare humiliation. 

At the heart of India’s sensational fightback were two heroes who etched their names into cricketing folklore—VVS Laxman, whose silken strokeplay mesmerized the world, and Rahul Dravid, whose unwavering resilience formed the backbone of India's resurgence. Complementing their heroics was Harbhajan Singh, whose remarkable off-spin wizardry not only brought India’s first-ever Test hat-trick but also dismantled the mighty Australians when it mattered most. 

Australia’s Early Dominance and Harbhajan’s Hat-trick

The visitors began with characteristic authority, asserting their dominance on a surface that initially offered little for the bowlers. The foundation of their imposing first-innings total of 445 was laid by Matthew Hayden, who combined brute force with calculated aggression to compile a commanding 97. Steve Waugh, the indomitable Australian captain, further strengthened their grip with a defiant century, guiding his team through a late-order collapse triggered by the young Harbhajan Singh. The off-spinner’s devastating spell saw him claim India’s first-ever Test hat-trick, dismissing Ricky Ponting, Adam Gilchrist, and Shane Warne in rapid succession. Despite this setback, Australia’s tail wagged admirably, as Jason Gillespie and Glenn McGrath offered staunch resistance, helping Waugh extend the innings before he eventually fell for a fighting 110. 

India’s First-Innings Collapse and the Spark of a Fightback 

With the pitch still playing true, India had every reason to mount a strong reply, but what followed was a nightmare. A rampant Glenn McGrath tore through the Indian top order with surgical precision, his relentless accuracy yielding figures of 4 for 18. India crumbled for a paltry 171, handing Australia a colossal lead of 274. The match seemed all but over. 

Yet, amidst the ruins, a glimmer of hope emerged. VVS Laxman’s 59 was a rare moment of defiance, a stroke-filled innings that hinted at the elegance and tenacity he would soon unleash in full force. Recognizing his brilliance, the Indian think tank made a crucial decision—promoting Laxman to No. 3 in the second innings. It was a move that would alter the course of history. 

Laxman and Dravid: The Epic Partnership That Defied Fate

What followed was an exhibition of batting that transcended the realm of sport and entered the domain of legend. Laxman, with his effortless grace, and Dravid, with his stoic determination, produced a partnership of such monumental brilliance that it single-handedly reversed India’s fortunes. For over ten and a half hours, the duo blunted, dismantled, and demoralized the Australian attack. Laxman’s strokeplay was an aesthetic marvel—his wristy flicks and regal drives flowed like poetry in motion. Meanwhile, Dravid was the immovable rock at the other end, absorbing every challenge with unflappable concentration. 

Their unbroken stand of 335 runs on the fourth day—without losing a wicket—was a feat of superhuman endurance. By the time they were finally separated at 376, they had rewritten record books, eclipsing multiple Indian and international milestones. Laxman’s 281, the highest individual score for India at the time, was a masterpiece, and Dravid’s 180 was the perfect complement to it. 

With the lead swelling past 380, Sourav Ganguly boldly declared at 657 for 7, setting Australia an improbable target of 384. The stage was now set for an exhilarating finish. 

Harbhajan and Tendulkar Weave a Web of Spin

Australia, accustomed to steamrolling opposition, had the batting depth to chase or at least save the game. Openers Hayden and Michael Slater began watchfully, adding 74 runs and raising visions of an escape. But once the breakthrough came, the visitors unravelled. 

Harbhajan, continuing his golden spell, spun a web around the Australians, picking up six wickets in the second innings. Tendulkar, often overshadowed for his bowling, delivered three crucial blows, including the prized scalps of Hayden and Gilchrist—who suffered the ignominy of a king pair. The mighty Australians, who had won 16 consecutive Tests, were bowled out for 212, their invincibility shattered. 

Conclusion: A Victory for the Ages

When the final Australian wicket fell, Eden Gardens erupted in sheer ecstasy. This was more than just a Test match victory—it was a triumph of perseverance over adversity, a testament to the resilience of a team that refused to surrender. The Kolkata Test of 2001 became a defining moment in Indian cricket, proving that mental strength and self-belief could triumph against the greatest of odds. 

Laxman’s artistry, Dravid’s grit, and Harbhajan’s brilliance ensured that this match would forever be etched in cricketing folklore. For Steve Waugh’s Australians, it was a rare setback in an otherwise dominant era. But for India, it was the dawn of a new chapter—a chapter that heralded their rise as a cricketing powerhouse, ready to challenge and conquer the best in the world.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

The Sublime Artistry of VVS Laxman at Eden Gardens: A Masterpiece Beyond Numbers

In cricket’s long and storied history, few innings have altered the course of a match, a series, or even the perception of an entire cricketing nation. Yet, when VVS Laxman left the field on the final day of the breathtaking, almost implausible Test in Kolkata in March 2001, his 281 was already more than just an innings. It was a statement, an artistic masterpiece, and a historic inflexion point for Indian cricket.

For all the inconsistencies in his performances, Laxman was a batsman whose brilliance, when at its peak, was as sublime as any of his celebrated peers. His stroke play, wristy and supple, was imbued with an elegance that defied aggression, an aesthetic counterpoint to the brute force often associated with match-winning knocks. And yet, for all his undeniable talent, he had faced questions over his place in the side, oscillating between moments of genius and periods of struggle.

His greatest innings came against Australia—an opponent he repeatedly tormented throughout his career. By the time he retired in 2012, six of his 17 Test centuries had come against them, a testament to his ability to rise against the best. But never was his impact greater than at Eden Gardens, where he and Rahul Dravid produced an act of defiance so unthinkable that it left an indelible mark on Test cricket’s collective memory.

The Context: Australia’s Final Frontier

The Australian team that arrived in India for the three-match series in 2001 was, by every measure, one of the greatest to ever play the game. Steve Waugh’s men were riding a world-record streak of 15 consecutive Test victories, having bulldozed opponents across continents. Their ambition was not just to win but to conquer, to claim victory in India—the ‘final frontier’ that Waugh had spoken of with determination.

The first Test in Mumbai had reinforced their dominance, with Australia securing a comprehensive innings victory inside three days. The signs in Kolkata suggested more of the same.

After winning the toss, Australia’s openers, Matthew Hayden and Michael Slater, got their team off to a strong start, putting up a 103-run partnership. Though India fought back with Harbhajan Singh’s memorable hat-trick—dismissing Ricky Ponting, Adam Gilchrist, and Shane Warne in quick succession—Waugh’s century pushed the visitors to a formidable 445.

Faced with this imposing total, India’s batting crumbled under the relentless pressure of Glenn McGrath, Jason Gillespie, and Warne. At the close of the second day, the hosts were teetering at 128 for 8, still 118 runs short of avoiding the follow-on.

Laxman, however, had shown a glimpse of his class, scoring a fluent 59 while those around him fell apart. It was a knock that carried the promise of more, but even the most optimistic Indian supporter could not have foreseen what was about to unfold.

A Decision That Altered Cricketing History

When India’s first innings ended at 171 early on Day 3, Waugh enforced the follow-on—a decision that would later be debated endlessly. At the time, it seemed the obvious call. Only twice in Test history had a team won after being made to follow on. With Australia’s bowling attack in prime form, it seemed only a matter of time before another crushing victory was secured.

India’s openers provided some early resistance before Laxman walked in at No. 3, a tactical promotion from his usual position at No. 6. What followed was not just an innings but a transformation—of the match, of Indian cricket, and of Laxman’s career itself.

The Masterpiece Unfolds

Laxman’s batting was effortless yet authoritative. His placement was surgical, his wristwork mesmerizing. He scored freely against the quicks, manoeuvring McGrath and Gillespie with an ease that bordered on audacity. Against Warne, he was even more ruthless. The great leg-spinner had built his reputation tormenting batsmen on turning tracks, but here he found himself at the receiving end of an onslaught he could neither predict nor contain.

Laxman’s ability to drive Warne inside-out through the off-side and flick him against the turn through midwicket defied conventional wisdom. Most batsmen struggled merely to survive against Warne’s wizardry, yet Laxman attacked him with a calculated grace that left the Australian legend bereft of answers.

When he reached his hundred, India was still far from safety. But in Dravid, who had endured criticism for his poor form, he found an ally whose resilience matched his own artistry. Together, they turned the game on its head.

A Day That Defied Cricketing Logic

By the end of Day 3, India had reached 252 for 4, with Laxman unbeaten on 109. For all its brilliance, his innings still appeared to be one of defiance rather than resurgence. India was merely delaying the inevitable—or so it seemed.

But then came Day 4, a day of sheer perfection. Laxman and Dravid batted from start to finish without giving Australia even the slightest chance. They added 335 runs in a single day. It was batting of the highest order—an unbroken partnership that grew into a towering monolith of concentration, endurance, and relentless strokeplay.

The Australians tried everything. The quicks altered their lengths and angles; the spinners bowled wider and flatter. Nine different bowlers, including Hayden, were thrown into the attack in desperation. But nothing worked.

By the time Laxman crossed 236—breaking Sunil Gavaskar’s record for the highest individual score by an Indian—the crowd at Eden Gardens had transformed from anxious spectators into an uncontrollable wave of celebration. The stadium shook with every run, every boundary. The sheer improbability of what was unfolding heightened the drama.

When Laxman finally fell for 281 on the morning of the fifth day, the match had already turned decisively in India’s favour. Dravid followed soon after for 180, and India declared at 657 for 7, a lead of 383.

“I never realized that at the end of the day, I would walk away with valuable life lessons,” Laxman told Sportstar in an interview. “Lessons from a game I loved so much. Even now, when I reflect on that epic day, it sometimes feels surreal.” Yet, in the grand theatre of cricket, where many fierce battles had been fought, this one was as real as it could get. Laxman emerged as a modern-day warrior, his batting reaching extraordinary heights. 

“The day is fresh in my mind. The match is fresh,” Laxman recalled. “That success set a new benchmark for me. Of course, it was a team effort, but personally, I formed memories that have stayed with me forever. It felt like everyone in the dressing room and all those watching at Eden Gardens were in a trance.” 

Laxman and Rahul Dravid stitched together a historic 376-run partnership for the fifth wicket, orchestrating one of the greatest comebacks in cricket history. Australia, dominant up to that point, had enforced the follow-on after India conceded a first-innings lead of 274 runs. At the start of the fourth day, India stood at 254 for four, still in a precarious position. 

“We focused on surviving hour by hour,” Laxman said. “Starting afresh helped us. Rahul and I decided that the Australians would have to earn our wickets.” As the innings progressed, the Australians began to realize that dislodging them would not be easy. “We rotated the strike, which kept us engaged and focused,” he added. “With every passing break and session, our confidence grew.” 

Not losing a wicket in the first session of the fourth day was a huge boost. When Laxman had been dismissed as the last man in India’s first innings, coach John Wright had asked him to “keep the pads on” since Australia had enforced the follow-on. Wright had already decided to push Laxman to No. 3, knowing that he had spent considerable time at the crease. 

“I loved the challenge and the idea,” Laxman admitted. “We battled through the first two sessions, but post-tea, things became incredibly tough. Rahul was cramping, dehydration was sapping our energy, and I was struggling with back spasms that limited my shot-making. But we refused to lose a wicket, motivating each other constantly. We endured the physical pain because we knew Australia could bounce back from any position.” 

Personal milestones kept coming, but neither batsman lost sight of the bigger picture. “We were determined not to throw our wickets away,” Laxman said. “By the end of the day, we were mentally and physically drained, but returning unbeaten was immensely satisfying.” 

No one in the team had foreseen such a dramatic turnaround—an entire day without losing a wicket against an all-conquering Australian side. The resilience stunned the visitors. That day, Laxman and Dravid cemented their place in cricketing folklore. 

“Normally, Rahul doesn’t show too much emotion, but he kept encouraging me throughout,” Laxman recalled. “We kept reminding each other not to get complacent. A day like that happens once in a lifetime, and we wanted to make the most of it. We never let our guard down. By the end, the pressure was on the Australians, and we knew we had a real chance to dictate the outcome. At the very least, we were no longer going to lose the match, which meant the series was still alive after our loss in the first Test.” 

Laxman stressed that this was no individual triumph—it was a collective effort. “Everyone played a role. The substitute fielder, Hemang Badani, took a brilliant catch to dismiss Steve Waugh. Our physio, Andrew Leipus, ensured we could keep going despite the physical toll. Everyone contributed in their own way. Looking back, it felt like destiny had chosen that game to be a special one for every single member of the team.” 

The Final Twist: India Completes the Miracle

Australia, chasing an improbable target, fought valiantly. Slater and Hayden started well, but wickets fell at crucial intervals. Waugh and Ponting, so often Australia’s pillars, fell to Harbhajan’s wizardry.

With 30 overs remaining, Australia stood at 3 for 166, a draw still within reach. But once Waugh departed, the collapse began. India’s spinners tightened their grip, and soon enough, Australia was all out for 212.

A 171-run victory was secured. A series that had seemed destined to end in a whitewash had been resurrected. More than that, a new belief had been born—one that would define Indian cricket for the next two decades.

A Legacy Beyond Numbers

Laxman’s innings was not just a match-winning effort; it was a psychological turning point. No longer was India merely a talented team prone to crumbling under pressure. They had, on one of cricket’s grandest stages, turned certain defeat into triumph against one of the greatest teams ever assembled.

For Waugh and his men, it was a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, in their post-match reflections, there was no bitterness, no excuses—only admiration. “Laxman’s knock was one of the greatest I ever faced in Tests,” Gillespie admitted.

From that day forward, Indian cricket changed. It was a victory that announced India’s arrival as a true force in Test cricket. It was a reminder that artistry and resilience, when combined, could create something immortal.

And for VVS Laxman, it was his magnum opus—a masterclass that would forever remain etched in cricketing folklore.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

The Art of Resilience: VVS Laxman’s Heroics at Durban

In the annals of Indian cricket, few batsmen have exemplified resilience as consistently as VVS Laxman. Time and again, when the Indian batting order has crumbled under pressure, Laxman has stood as a lone sentinel, unfazed by the storm around him. His innings in the second innings of the Durban Test was another chapter in this saga—a masterclass in survival and responsibility against one of the most hostile fast-bowling attacks in the world.

A Shaky Start Amid the Storm

The third day began ominously for India. Dale Steyn and Morne Morkel, with their combination of sheer pace and bounce, sliced through the top order with surgical precision. India’s batsmen, once again, found themselves in familiar trouble—struggling to cope with the venom and accuracy of the South African pacers.  

As wickets fell in quick succession, the Indian innings seemed destined to fold. However, into this chaos walked VVS Laxman—the ever-dependable batsman from Hyderabad. Known for thriving under pressure, Laxman embodied calm amidst the carnage, determined to steady the innings and rebuild. His presence at the crease was not just a lifeline for India but also a source of reassurance for the dressing room.  

The Tail’s Guardian Angel

What sets Laxman apart from most modern-day batsmen is not just his elegance or technical prowess but his ability to shepherd the tail. His calm demeanor has a unique effect, imbuing lower-order players with confidence, and allowing them to bat beyond their perceived limits. It’s a rare trait, reminiscent of Inzamam-ul-Haq in his prime—someone who could transform tail-enders into capable allies at the crease.  

Zaheer Khan, known more for his exploits with the ball, found himself in the middle with Laxman. On a pitch bristling with bounce and menace, Zaheer would normally have been expected to falter against the relentless Steyn, Morkel, and Tsotsobe. Yet, under Laxman’s guidance, Zaheer batted with unexpected patience and poise, countering the fast bowlers with resilience.  

This unlikely partnership was crafted not just with runs but with trust. Laxman’s assured presence signalled to Zaheer, *“Don’t worry. I’m here with you.”* It’s this unspoken bond that makes Laxman invaluable—not just to the scoreboard but to his teammates. A partnership of 70 runs was scripted, built on communication, faith, and Laxman’s ability to remain unflappable under pressure.

### **Building Partnerships, Not Records**  

Laxman’s approach has never been about chasing individual milestones; it’s always been about the team. This is why his dismissal for 96 did not invite frustration, either from him or his fans. In his eyes, it wasn’t the four missing runs that mattered—it was the runs that he had already contributed to keeping India in the game.  

While many players might have rued missing a century, Laxman is cut from a different cloth. His happiness lies not in personal records but in team success. For him, batting is an act of service—every run is a step towards collective triumph. This selflessness, this clarity of purpose, is what makes Laxman a cricketer to be admired.  

A Test of Character at Durban

The 70-run stand with Zaheer, though not monumental on paper, carried immense significance. It kept India afloat in a situation that could have quickly spiralled into disaster. More importantly, it showcased the heart and character of a team fighting against the odds. In such moments, Laxman becomes more than just a batsman—he becomes the spiritual anchor, keeping the team connected to the possibility of victory.  

Laxman’s innings in Durban was a microcosm of his career: understated, elegant, and immensely valuable. His ability to thrive in adversity, to coax performances out of unlikely partners, and to contribute selflessly to the team has earned him a special place in the history of Indian cricket. Whether India secures victory or not, Laxman’s performance will be remembered as a testament to his ability to lead without fanfare, to inspire without grand gestures, and to deliver when it matters the most.  

In the end, cricket is not just about centuries or five-wicket hauls—it’s about moments of grit and grace, of resilience and resolve. VVS Laxman, with his sublime 96, reminded the world once again that true greatness is not defined by records but by the ability to stand tall when everything else falls apart. At Durban, Laxman stood firm—and in doing so, gave India a fighting chance.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar