At our meeting, Comala, a keen angler who has snagged many a memorable catch, calls her husband Chingleput Duraikannu Gopinath the biggest fish she has reeled in. The affectionate quip, soaked in her trademark wit, speaks volumes of the man she has been married to for over 70 years.
Not that CD Gopinath needs many props to establish his standing.
There are the 95-year-old's many achievements. There is also his innate grace, unfailingly present all through our three-and-a-half-hour tête-à-tête. They are enough to win anyone's admiration.
This is a gentle and towering giant we are talking about.
Here's a sportsman who was quite good at ball badminton, tennis, and even squash, where his walkover—on the cusp of sealing a win—famously shaped the career of a future Indian champion and captain in the sport. And then there were the many other games, including hockey, that he was good at.
Here is a lover of nature and of the wild, who loved the "sound of silence" to be found in the forests. A photographer who took many memorable photos and at least one that stirred trouble. (More of that Leeds incident later). And a pioneer of shipping and shipping containerisation in India.
A man of many parts, he certainly is. But—and this is the biggest but—his mightiest achievement did not come in any of these fields.
For a man who has lived his life never doing anything that was 'not cricket', India's oldest living Test cricketer achieved true nirvana through the 'noble game', as he calls it. Cricket shaped his personality and enlightened him, as he recounts.
Late baptism, meteoric rise
Surprisingly, Gopinath took to the cricketing green, in its truest sense, only at the age of 17. One day, the Madras Christian College, where he was pursuing his degree, found itself a wicketkeeper short, and Gopi being a natural sportsman, the captain of the team insisted that he don the role.
What a baptism it was to be! In 1947, the year that India made her tryst with destiny, Gopinath made his tryst with cricket and in glorious fashion. He would go on to score a 60 as an opener in his debut match for his college.
Just three years later, there he was representing Indian Universities against a Commonwealth team that had in its ranks such stars as the future West Indies captain Frank Worrell and Sonny Ramadhin. Both Worrell and Ramadhin were coming to India as heroes of the maiden West Indies Test series win over England in England earlier that year.
Gopinath would go on to forge a famous friendship with Worrell and master Ramadhin, the mystery spinner of his time.
Gopinath recounted how the taming of Ramadhin happened.
The West Indies spin great could bowl both the off-break and leg-break with seemingly no change in action. At Eden Gardens, where Gopi first came up against him, "I luckily got to see an over that Ram was bowling while at the non-strikers end. Watching each ball's trajectory, I came to the conclusion that he was imparting more flight to his leg-break and his off-break was the quicker one." Out came our hero's favourite square cuts and cover drives and they fetched Gopi 93 of the finest.
This was batting that would impress Worrell and make the future West Indies captain walk up to the Indian batsman and tell him during his debut unofficial 'Test' a couple of months later that he would be gifting Gopi a long hop to help the latter get off the mark. Worrell went on to deliver the promised easy pickings and though it caught the Indian batter by surprise, the ball was duly smacked for a four.
Ten months after that 'Test' in Kanpur, Gopinath was to make his debut in an official Test against England at Mumbai's famed Brabourne Stadium and score a 50 not out and 42 in the drawn match.
In only four years, Gopi had gone from beginner to star at the highest level. It was a fairytale rise the likes of which haven't been seen since.
Two months after this debut would come an even more seminal moment. 'Brian Statham caught Gopinath (at long-off) bowled Mankad' read the entry that would seal India's first-ever Test win, against England by an emphatic margin of an innings and eight runs on February 10, 1952.
The venue was Chennai's own Chepauk stadium. "The spectators kept applauding us for more than 15 minutes," remembers the only surviving member from that historic Test. The home boy went on to retain the ball that he caught and which was later signed by the eleven players who stepped out for India that day. It remains with him to this day at his Coonoor home named "The Cover Drive".
Gopinath remembers that there was little else by way of celebration in those days when players were billeted in houses of people who were ready to take them in and when only Rs 250 was paid as Test fee - "smoke money" as it came to be famously known.
"We were not demonstrative in those days. There was joy, of course, and much handshaking and backslapping before we headed to shower ourselves in the dressing room. But it was not like today when players rush to each other and indulge in truly expansive displays that sometimes even take an ugly turn. We were taught to keep our emotions in check," he recounts.
One of the heroes of the first-ever Test win was the great Indian all-rounder Vinoo Mankad whose mastery of control Gopinath recalled. Mankad was bowling to English all-rounder Allan Watkins when he told Gopi to move a few steps away. The next ball would see Watkins hit the ball straight into Gopinath's hands. "Mankad knew what ball he was going to bowl, the shot that would be played and that it would end up in my hands," he remembers with a mild chuckle.
Tours abroad and paying the price for being a 'Madhraasi'
Gopinath's Test career would go on to take him to England and Pakistan (for India's first Test tour there after partition). He also squared up against Australia in a Test and faced the man he reckons to be the greatest fast bowler of his time, Ray Lindwall. That Eden Gardens Test in 1960, in which he was snared by Richie Benaud in both innings, would see him craft the highest score in India's first essay - a 39. But he would bid cricket at the highest level goodbye after that to focus on his off-field career.
In between, Gopi would score two tons in the semis and finals while playing a significant part in Madras' maiden Ranji Trophy win in 1955.
But why did a cricketer reckoned by Worrell and other experts to be hugely gifted, the "best exponent of the square cut in the country" and whose hook shot was crowned the Shot of the month in an English daily, not score more runs or have a longer stint in Tests? Discrimination played its part as revealed in a story told with little rancour, but with an abiding hurt that slips through.
It happened when Gopinath was in England. The tour had begun on a disastrous note with India reduced for 0-4 in the first Test at Leeds. Seeing 000-4 on the scoreboard piqued the interest of the photographer in Gopi and in broad daylight, before the rest of the team, he snapped the "unique sight".
Then came the incident that made matters worse and which he recounted.
Vijay Hazare was the captain and ordered Gopi, who did not understand the language, to move in Hindi.
Gopinath remembers, "I was the only one in the 16-member squad who did not know Hindi. They all spoke Hindi. I rarely knew what they were speaking about during the tour. In the match, the captain asked me in Hindi to shift my position to a certain spot. He knew I couldn't understand. I managed only by asking one of my teammates and getting to know what was needed.
"But when we were back into the dressing room, Hazare was very angry at me. He told me to come and see him at the hotel. Once there, he asked me why I hadn't followed his instructions. I explained the difficulty I had and wondered why he couldn't have told me in English. His reply was that had he told me in English, the batsman would know. I found his reasoning silly.
"Remember I was just 22 then. A little worked up, I told the captain 'I thought we were playing cricket. What is wrong in the batsman knowing where the fielder is. He has the right, does he not?'. Hazare got back by telling me 'This is not 'Madhraas cricket'. I told him I didn't know it as Madras cricket or Indian cricket. I only knew it as cricket and stomped out of his room. Naturally, the captain didn't like me from then on."
This meant that for the duration of the England series, Gopi was forced to bat at No 8, and in one instance at No 9, despite being a specialist batsman. The only exception was when India encountered a wet wicket or sticky wicket as these were called.
A compelling raconteur, Gopinath shares what followed when that came to pass.
"An exception was this match where it had rained and the wicket was wet. You must remember that those days the wickets were left uncovered and we also did not have helmets or the level of protective equipment that players now have. So, the captain told me to pad up to go in at No 4. He meant to offer me as one of the sacrificial wickets. But I was excited since I could at least bat up the order now. It was however not to be. By the time my turn came, the sun had come out and the wicket was drying up. I was told to wait. Those days Bombay dominated. He sent in a Bombay player. When that player got out and No 5's turn came, I was again held back. Nos 6 and 7 also went in and returned. I only got to bat at No 8 again.
"I was almost in tears. I was terribly upset. I went to Hazare after that and said, 'Skipper, I am sorry, but I won't take this from you again. Don't do what you did to me today. Don't do this ever again'. The spat didn't do me any good. It was unfortunate," Gopinath recalls.
He talks of how he and the great Hyderabad off-spinner Ghulam Ahmed, a fellow 'Madhraasi' in the days when the idea of India had not quite sunk in and when provincial mentality still ruled, "cried on each other's shoulders" for the almost six months the tour lasted.
The experience scarred both players. It left Gopinath "pretty frustrated and pessimistic about his immediate cricket prospects" as he has recalled in Beyond Cricket: A Life in Many Worlds. He applied and took up a position in the Chennai-based Gordon Woodroffe at his father's suggestion and would later rise to be the first Indian Chairman of the 100-year-old British company.
But cricket wasn't about to leave him alone this early. He was "unexpectedly" named in the squad to the West Indies. Gopinath was delighted at the prospect of going there. But a call from Ghulam Ahmed asking if "You are going? Are you sure?", while saying he himself had decided not to after what happened in England and what was likely to happen in the West Indies, led to Gopi also dropping out.
A wet patch in Pakistan and the 'patriotic umpires' there
India's first tour of Pakistan though was an entirely different proposition. Vinoo Mankad had taken over as the captain and that was a relief. Ghulam Ahmed was also selected and would be Gopi's roommate. This meant that Ghulam's relatives in Pakistan were always around to shower them with hospitality except on one occasion when, with no houses for the players to be put up in, they had to stay in the train compartment for a few days!
Gopi had a good overall tour ending up with an average of 58 in the first-class matches. But he got to bat in only three innings in the Test series. The one where he made his highest Test score of the tour, a 41, had a memorable story that would be passed down generations. A patch of the ground, a little ahead of the crease, was alone wet while the rest of the wicket and the ground was dry.
"When we protested, we were told that it was because of the rain. 'How could it have rained only here,' we wondered. The umpires (both Pakistanis of course, since it was a home series) were to be the final adjudicators. They agreed to delay the start by 15 minutes to help the very wet patch dry! I was left to counter the wet area by stepping out and standing on it," Gopinath remembers.
He talks of how the team was happy to have drawn the series against the Pakistan team, which had the original 'Little Master' Hanif Mohammad and bowling great Fazal Mahmood, among others, in its ranks. "The Pakistan umpires were patriotic. So, we were happy to return with the honours even," he recounts.
Friend named Sir Frank Worrell, and Sachin and Dhoni memories
Cricket gifted Gopinath many friendships. He remembers his comradeship with English great Denis Compton and with Ray Lindwall, the brief meeting with whom at Kolkata led to Gopi landing the Australian great's cap as a souvenir.
But his abiding trans-sea friendship was with Sir Frank Worrell, the West Indies captain in the first-ever tied Test, as recalled earlier.
Gopinath fondly recounted a hand-rickshaw ride the two of them took around Colombo after 10 in the night and how he attended Worrell's benefit match hosted by his club, Lancashire. "I insisted I will be the one collecting money from those in the stadium and I did."
He also remembered his last meeting with "Frank" when he came down to Madras and joined Gopi and his family for dinner. "It was not a party. Just him and my family. He told me then that he had not been feeling his usual self during the last few days. As he left, I insisted that he must get a check-up done. A few days later came the news from the West Indies that Frank was no more. Apparently he had leukemia. His death shattered me."
After his playing career, Gopinath went on to become a selector and played a significant part in unearthing the great Gundappa Viswanath, who holds the unique record of having ensured that India never lost a Test when he made a ton. "He was as good as Gavaskar (incidentally Vishy's brother-in-law). He had a lot of time to play his shots and that is always a true sign of class. And what a lovely human being to boot."
His all-time great, though, is not anyone from his eras as either player or selector or Indian manager, which he later became. It is Sachin Tendulkar, "the man who had the right shot for every ball."
Another favourite is MS Dhoni. "I remember saying at a felicitation function that the Chennai Super Kings is my favourite team and pointing to Dhoni who was in the front row as the reason." Gopinath says he told people there that this was because "Dhoni is never demonstrative; never puts down any player, even if they are from the opposition. It is simply because he is Captain and Player Cool" that he adored him.
That quality sums up Gopinath too at 95 and underlines why, as his son-in-law the renowned Supreme Court lawyer Aryama Sundaram observes, he was a legend all those years ago and continues to remain a legend. A truly well-played century beckons...