Before Sangwan scalped Virat Kohli, there was that hunter on the perennial prowl, Iqbal Siddiqui | Cricket News

He played his last first class game some 20 years ago but Maharashtra pacer and the one-time dada of domestic cricket, Iqbal Siddiqui, remembers every sight and sound of that one over when he got Ravi Shastri out in a Ranji Trophy game. Down to the whisper from his buddy from junior days Avinash Jadhav, when Mumbai needed just 17 runs in the fourth innings to win the game.It’s a story from the times when, unlike now, Ranji Trophy wasn’t an ordeal to suffer or an obligation to be fulfilled for the international stars. It was a norm, not a diktat. To be fair, cricket scheduling was also not this hectic and T20 wasn’t a disruptor or a dractor.
Though, not all has changed on the good old dusty maidans, the land of the mostly uncapped. Even today when Rohit Sharma and Virat Kohli turn up for their states, they face domestic bowlers who save their best when taking on the best. It’s their chance to carve notches on their belt to keep a count of their celebrity conquests and collect yarns for a lifetime.
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Iqbal, at 50, a respected match referee, understands what made Himanshu Sangwan, a 29-year-old military medium pacer, working as a Railways ticket-collector, send Virat Kohli’s off-stump cartwheeling. Also why a 31-year-old pacer from Pulwama in J&K Umar Nazir forced Rohit Sharma to mime his favourite pull.
Iqbal knows this “outfit of the underdogs” all too well. He had been a proud card-carrying member all through his playing years. The pacer had a simple motto when taking on those “big batsmen.”
“Jitna teekha batsman, utni teekhi apni bowling,” says the player known as much for his wit, quips and chutzpah as he was for his sly wicket-taking skills and that perfect “tappa”. Like most things the man from Aurangabad says, even this can’t be truly translated. “The spice in my bowling depends on how hot the batsmen were.” That comes close.
That mindset didn’t change even if it was a losing cause and the game was at Thane’s unremarkable Dadoji Kondadev Stadium. Back to that Shastri scalp and the friendly nudge from his friend.Story continues below this ad
“Iqbal kuch kar yaar (Do something),” Avinash would plead to Iqbal. “Mumbai should remember ki tune kuch kiya (you did something)”. With such a small target, what was that “something” a new-ball bowler was supposed to do? Go through the motions, shake hands and licks wounds in the dressing room. Not Iqbal, certainly not when a ‘star’ batsman stood in front of him.
Iqbal, at 50, is a respected match referee.
He bowled a wicked short ball to Shastri, who would let it go. “I gave him a stare. Fast bowler hain, bouncer daala hai, hamara haq bunta hai (Fast bowlers have the right to glare after a bouncer),” says the engaging story-teller with humour that can crack up many cricket addas.
Shastri stared back from between the grill of his blue helmet – Iqbal’s memory is technicolour, not sepia tinted. But the stare lasted just for a bit. Next ball— it’s a bouncer again. No stare this time. “Third ball, I bowled up and he tried to play and was out,” Iqbal almost underplays the climax, the excitement of narrating the set-up missing.
He has many such stories, there’s one involving another Mumbai batting great – Vinod Kambli. It was from a game in Mumbai but not at the Wankhede. The venue was the low-key MIG stadium. Story continues below this ad
Not just the wicket-taking delivery, Iqbal also remembers the field setting. Short leg and deep square leg, rest on the off side. “No one else on leg-side, udhar ball dalna hi nahi toh phir fielder kyon (if you don’t bowl there, why do you need a fielder there),” he recalls. Short of length ball, near to his chest, straight to gully. “Halne ka mauka hi nahi diya (Didn’t allow him to move).”
Unpicking the ‘pack’
This was days before he was to play for India A against the touring England team that had Michael Vaughan, Marcus Trescothick, Mark Ramprakash. Another pack side—as star-studded sides are called in maidans. Over to Iqbal for a delightful narration of the events a day before the game. It’s about the unique art of putting pressure on the stars those who don’t have much to lose.
“I met Treschothick at the Hotel Taj lob on match eve. I said “Hi Tres, I am Iqbal Siddiqui, we played junior cricket against each other in 1994. Bhai, yaad toh dilana padega na, agle din bowling dalna hai (I have to remind him, I have to bowl at him). Tres asked: “You still moving the ball?” I replied: “Of course, of course, if I take your wicket, I have a chance to play Tests”. Seedha bola. “You reckon?” he asked me. Mauka mila tha chauka maaro. “I will be after your wicket tomorrow.”

“Next I went to the gym where Vaughan was there with Mark Ramprakash, who was getting up after doing bench press. I had played Vaughan too in under-19. He introduced me to Mark, who shook my hand. I reminded him of the game we played against each other – one India A match. Thought, yaad dila du usko bhi (Though, remind him also). Also told Vaughan – ‘You were serving drinks that day’. I told Mark you were playing with a Slazenger V500 at Wankhede. It was yellow and I got you out lbw.”Story continues below this ad
Next day, Iqbal got Mark again, lbw it was. He got three other England wickets, one of them was Andrew Flintoff. Again the mode of dismissal is stored in mind for eternity. “Short of length ball, achhi gayi pad ke and took the shoulder of the bat.” Like Kambli at MIG, Flintoff wasn’t given “haalne ka mauka.”
A pacer with a short and smooth run, Iqbal was about pitching the ball perfectly. The match referee was seen having soming fun during a recent Ranji game in Jaipur. (Express Photo)
Warm tales
A pacer with a short and smooth run, Iqbal was about pitching the ball perfectly. These days, he often gets asked about his speed. “Arre speed chhod, yeh koi nahi puchta aapka tappa kaisa tha. Speed ko kya karna tel dalna kya,” he says. In his charming self-deprecating wit, he explains his bowling: “Kumble saab ke aas paas jitna run up hoga, aur speed bhi unke aas paas (Run and speed, both like Anil Kumble)”. His charming chuckle has the strength to lift any pall of gloom.
The stories of those special scraps in his overall haul of 315 wickets from 90 first-class games keep flowing. Once at Rajkot, he psyched a Saurashtra batsman and got him bowled. He shouted to the non-striker, informing that his partner was getting bowled next ball. Told the umpire, to keep an eye on the popping crease and not declare no-ball as he was getting a wicket. At the top of his bowling mark, he also had a message for Saurashtra’s BCCI bigwig Niranjan Shah standing in the dressing room balcony. “Getting your batsman bowled,” he yelled. Next ball, it did happen. “Cricket is less physical, more mental,” he gives his wisdom.
About his four England wickets that earned him his Test call, Iqbal says: “Badaa player honga aapne ghar pe .. hum bhi toh mehnat hi kar rahe hain. (He might be a great player, we also have worked hard).” Story continues below this ad
It is the less-known characters of the game – the Iqbals, Sangwans and Nazirs – who make the domestic cricket narrative richer and storied. They are ones who operate in the vast stretches of India’s cricketing landscape. Domestic cricket is the wild west where bounty hunters lie in wait, guarding the fence of the turf, under the stadium’s shadow.