Generation Next – indeed the whole country and the cricketing world – is still reeling under the incredible high experienced after India’s win at the inaugural Twenty20 World Cup in South Africa. But the euphoria over the victory and the idolisation of M S Dhoni and his dare-to-win boys in blue brings to mind another historic win, almost 25 years ago and the men who made the impossible possible – Kapil and his ‘Devils’! Interestingly, in the past couple of months, the captain who had made that dream real has caused a buzz of his own with the launch of the ICL (Indian Cricket League) and his exit as NCA (National Cricket Academy) chairman.

Forty eight-year-old Dev who has plunged into his newly minted role as chief executive, ICL, is a man on the move…and not just metaphorically. No wonder then that he agrees to meet at the Mumbai airport early one Monday morning, promising to talk on the way to the office in the city…. The flight is delayed and a few minutes after it lands, he emerges in front of the waiting crowd of people.

The car moves in and out of the growing early morning traffic and I watch him as he leans back in its cool confines. His hair is now flecked with grey, his frame a little more fleshed out than it was in his playing years…he carries a briefcase and a cell in his hands instead of the small red globe and broad bat that he worked with so effortlessly…and yet, in his speech and actions you can sense the undying fire and passion for the sport. It is a reminder of the raw determination, unrestrained power that impelled his moves on the field. And if ever there was a pioneer in the world of sports who has proved time and again that winners don’t do different things, rather they do things differently, it was Dev. His bazooka batsmanship had created its own grammar, his English often had gone the same way. The heartland loved him. He was India’s first cricketing superhero of the masses.

His life story is the stuff of best-sellers. Dev is the original small-town player who made one feel that hard work and passion can propel anyone from the annals of anonymity to the pages of history books. “Any young kid dreams of being a cricketer. I never imagined that I would ever play for my country…. When I did, I gave the boys the confidence that we can achieve it. We were the first players to come out of small towns, play for the country and win…. So, boys began to think that if a Kapil Dev could play, then everyone could!” he states.

His tryst with the game ultimately led to ‘the most beautiful period of my life’. The boy who was one of the youngest in the family grew up to lead the country in his yeoman days. When I ask him if the baby became an effective leader, he replies, “True, I was the most babied person in my family. We had a lot of respect for each other…helped each other. My game got the extra edge due to the fact that I grew up in Chandigarh, a very sporty city,” he remembers.

Qualities of discipline were instilled early on in the boy who idolised players like G R Vishwanath, Bishen Singh Bedi, Prasanna and Sunil Gavaskar. The lad, who was turned away from practice once by his coach because he had reported late, admits that at that time sports was never considered a serious option for a career. “We had a family business and there was an emphasis on studying enough to manage it. Law, engineering, medicine were prime career opportunities. I was very poor in studies,” Dev admits. “When talks for my marriage began, my father was asked what I did. He said, ‘Woh cricket khelta hai….’ My in-laws questioned, ‘But what work does he do?’ Today, it is different though. Parents come up to me and ask me to make their son a Rahul Dravid, a Sachin Tendulkar, an M S Dhoni....”

His parents realised that the young boy was serious about his play only when his photos began appearing in papers. “By then half the battle was won,” he laughs. “I remember my coach went to my father and told him that I needed a more substantial diet. My mother is a firm believer of simple food and my father immediately went out and bought two buffaloes so that I could have more milk and butter.”

What did the debutant feel, joining a group of seniors, all of whom he had watched from afar? Flashbacking to that nascent stage in his career, he talks about ties in the dressing room: “Be honest. The people you play with are all colleagues, not really friends. You get close to someone you have stayed with often. It took time to break the ice. Initially, I would not speak much. I was very quiet in the first two years. I gave my opinion only when I was asked to.”