Ravi Shastri Stand unveiling function echoes a golden era

By K.R. Nayar

Mumbai.  The unveiling of a cricket stadium stand in a cricketer’s name is very often an event where formal words, polite applause, and a respectful nod to history all come together. However, at the evening when the unveiling of the Ravi Shastri Stand was held at the Wankhede Stadium on Thursday (April 9, 2026), along with the unveiling of gates named after Dilip Sardesai, Eknath Solkar, and Diana Edulji, one got to hear many stories that evoked nostalgia.

Ravi Shastri stand being unveiled. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

As someone who has reported many of their matches and closely interacted with these four greats from Mumbai, this was also emotional for me reviving old memories and some great moments I’ve had with them. In an era where today’s cricketers seldom read reports or build personal bonds with journalists, these four belonged to a different, warmer time. They valued relationships. They acknowledged the storyteller. So, after the unveiling, when Shastri introduced me to his mother and his family members as a journalist who has followed his journey for years, it touched me deeply. 

Wankhede Stadium dressed up with statistic on Ravi Shastri and Dilip Sardesai. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

While all media has reported extensively on this function, I thought it would be interesting to present some of their tales that have a personal touch.

Edulji - the leading light

I wonder if any of my fellow journalists can claim that they have played with one of these greats, and that they would be passing through the gate named after this cricketer to enter the stadium. I owe this to the late Raj Singh Dungarpur, the longest-serving president of the Cricket Club of India. He was charming and social, and loved to gather friends, acquaintances, and cricket lovers for friendly matches, followed by evenings of laughter and drinks.

Feats of Diana Edulji and Eknath Solkar displayed at the Wankhede for the function. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

In one such game in the late eighties, Diana Edulji had me stumped by Chandrakant Pandit. I am proud of this dismissal and still wear it like a badge of honour. So when she spoke about her journey and her rise as the guiding force of women’s cricket in India, it resonated deeply with me. I had seen a glimpse of that brilliance firsthand.

A proud moment for Diana Edulji. 

Edulji talked about an instance when, once at the nets, she had beaten former India Test player Parthasarathy Sharma. The legendary Sunil Gavaskar, who was standing behind the nets, started to sing ‘Dhundo, Dhundo Re Sajna’ (dhundo in Hindi means ‘search’). This was not surprising, as I can recall how she could spin the ball across the bat to beat the batsman. No wonder she played 20 Women’s Tests and 34 ODIs, bagging 109 wickets with her slow left-arm spin and occasional fast bowling, with a personal best of 6 for 64 against Australia in 1984.

Suryakumar Yadav, Sunil Gavaskar and Dilip Vengsakar with the dignitaries. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

Edulji made it a point to recall people who had played an important role in her career – Kamalapati Tripathi, the late former Union Minister of Railways, who gave her a job, readily accepting her application; Madhavrao Scindia, another late Union Minister of Railways, who accepted her request to have a women’s Railways team. In fact, he approved five zonal teams, opening the door to jobs for women who opted for cricket. The third person was Sharad Pawar, the politician and former BCCI and ICC chief. He was the one who initiated the merger of the women’s cricket board with the BCCI.

Rajdeep on his father Sardesai

Dilip Sardesai was a brilliant batter, especially against pace, and had piled up 642 runs against the West Indies in the 1970-71 Test series. Not many remembered him after his playing days, since most fans were enamoured by the new generation of players. So humble was Sardesai that once, during a dinner function in Dubai, while we were talking about cricket, a top executive commented to Sardesai that Indians are generally scared of pacers and are poor players of pace. When I was about to intervene and remind him of Sardesai’s ability to play pace, Sardesai held my hand and stopped me. He felt there was no need to prove a point. That was his greatness.

Rajdeep Sardesai with Suryakumar Yadav. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

Representing his late father was Sardesai’s son and famous TV personality Rajdeep Sardesai, along with his mother, Nandini Sardesai. Rajdeep spoke about an instance when a West Indies pacer mocked India as a mere “club side.” When Eknath Solkar joined Sardesai at the crease after India had lost a few wickets, Sardesai told Solkar, “Let’s show them what a strong club side we are,” since both of them were from the P. J. Hindu Gymkhana team. What followed was a thrashing of the West Indies pace attack. 

Rajdeep Sardesai meets journalists. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

Rajdeep also remarked: “Mumbai cricket was his life. My father was proud to have played for 13 years, during which Mumbai never lost a match.”

Shastri enthrals with anecdotes

Shastri, fondly known as Ravi, displayed his much-admired skill of holding the audience spellbound through his expressive manner of telling tales. There was something poetic about the placement of his stand—Level 1, just below the press box. For a man who has illuminated the game both on the field and behind the mic, it felt just right. A storyteller positioned close to storytellers. He narrated his tales without once giving the impression that he was recounting all the top achievements of his life. Just memories recalled with warmth. 

Eknath Solkar gate being unveiled. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

“The first time I came to the Wankhede Stadium, I was just 12. I took a bus and a train, found my way to the North Stand, and sat there watching cricket. That was in 1974. I was a little boy, and I couldn’t stay the whole day. But that’s where it started,” he began.

Sunil Gavaskar being welcomed by the Mumbai Cricket Associaiton officials. Photo by K.R. Nayar

Shastri acknowledged that having a stand in his name was a huge honour, but more than that, he is happy that he has made his parents proud. “To say that there is a stand named after me inside Wankhede is a dream would be an understatement. No one was more proud to hear this than my mother. She is a cricket encyclopedia. She watches everything.” Shastri then added: “There is only one disappointment—my father. He was my hero, and he is not present here today. He would watch every game from the Garware Pavilion end at that time. But he is upstairs (looking skyward)—he will be proud that this has happened.”

Dilip Vengsarkar at the function. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

His narration of the six sixes he hit off Baroda’s Tilak Raj in 1985 was as smooth as his bowling action. “I was already past 100 when Sunny (Gavaskar) sent a message saying, ‘We’re going to declare.’ That’s when I went in all guns blazing. After the fourth six, I thought, let’s go for the full monty here. That sixth six went flat into the sightscreen. Whoever was watching from the present Ravi Shastri Stand would have gotten the best view,” he said, pointing to where he had hit his sixth six.

Ravi concluded describing by how he would have commented on his favourite shot played at the stadium, off Australian fast bowler Bruce Reid, which had gone to the top of what is now the Ravi Shastri Stand. “It’s Shastri on strike. Shastri goes big. It’s on the roof of the Ravi Shastri Stand. It brings down a block from there. It’s six more, one of the biggest seen at the Wankhede.” This was followed by thunderous applause from the crowd, as if thanking him, and it ended only when he returned to his seat.

Ravi Shastri surrounded by journalists. Photo by K.R. Nayar 

On the dais, listening and applauding, were Sunil Gavaskar, Dilip Vengsarkar, and Suryakumar Yadav, along with Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, Cabinet Minister Ashish Shelar, and Mumbai Cricket Association President Ajinkya Naik. Fadnavis revealed his excellent knowledge of the game and described the bravery of Eknath Solkar as a close-in fielder.

And yet, as the night drew to a close, one couldn’t help but feel—what if Gavaskar and Vengsarkar had spoken too? Imagine the stories, the laughter, the hidden gems. That would have been the perfect final flourish to an evening already drenched in memory and echoes from a golden era.