Alan Wilkins is a familiar face for cricket lovers in India. He has been a part of the television commentary team covering Indian national cricket team matches and the immensely and insanely popular Indian Premier League T-20 tournament. Very few here though know of his days as an English county player in the 70s and his virtuosity as broadcaster in sports as varied as rugby and tennis. It is here that this autobiography charts an unfamiliar course.
Therein lies the catch. While you read through with some interest about Wilkins’ early life as a student and a cricket and rugby player of some promise because you don’t know much of that, you realise after a while that once the basic information is in place, the rest is just recounting of various matches and incidents. Wilkins, the man, does not come through the voluminous pages. He remains a one-dimensional character through the over 150 pages of his life as a player.
No doubt there are some interesting incidents—bowling Vivian Richards, for instance—but one gains no insight into the man or the player as even these highlights are described almost apologetically, like a line in the match report of a daily newspaper. The almost two-page scoreboards of various matches add to this impression besides breaking the flow of the book.
Things don’t improve as Wilkins reinvents himself as a broadcaster. As an Indian the latter part of his career is familiar and as a reader you want to know more about him. Wilkins fails to do that. He remains as uni-dimensional in his narration of his broadcasting career as he was of his playing days. A mid-age career switch should generally make for an interesting read, but that thrill is missing in this book. The reasons are all there alright, but the narration deals with this transition superficially. It is as if Wilkins is looking at his life’s journey from a distance as a neutral observer; as a reader you want him to be participating in it passionately. It is his own life that he is describing after all.
Wilkins, it seems, is pulling his punches. He clearly is a well-liked person—as quotes from prominent sports personalities at the beginning of each chapter prove—and Wilkins has certainly taken care that there is no dent on his popularity. But, to ensure that, he has sucked the emotion and passion out of his book. Easier Said Than Done proceeds on an even keel, an act difficult for any human being to achieve through his life. There are ups and downs in everybody’s life and strong emotions accompany each such crest and trough. Wilkins notes diligently all such events, but with a cold eye—in fact, an extremely cold eye. So much so, that the whole exercise of penning his life down on paper starts seeming pretentious after a while.
Therein, as noted earlier, lies the catch. What has been an interesting career and could have been an equally interesting read has been dealt with extreme caution, making the proceedings listless. Wilkins, it seems, was playing for a draw right from the beginning.