In yesteryear a true artist with the willow - his strokeplay, particularly the late-cut executed with lumberjack-strong wrists, was nothing less than divine. He was equally adept against pace and spin - waiting on the ball against the fastmen and using twinkling footwork against the spinners - and he came good when it truly mattered. Could this be too good to be true?
Could he be Phoenix's resident Gundappa Vishwanath?