An everyday hero

He's just become the first Indian cricketer and the third for the sport to claim 600 wickets.

And as papers pay homage to him: for once, I'm reading, watching and in awe.

He will perhaps be remembered more for the man he is off the field than on it. Perhaps he'd be happier knowing that. I'm sure Ricky Ponting squirmed in his shoes when Kumble said after the Sydney test that 'only one team had played with the spirit of the game.' With him, there's no in-you-face-tv-deal, no stripping off of tee-shirt, no agressive hooplah. With him, there's just the look that comes from having worked as the waterboy, warmed the benches and humbled greats through pure talent. The Times of India headine today said it all - which is quite a lot to say, considering their headlines are often an ode to gimmicky populism - Gentlemen Do Win.

I first heard of Kumble from my Mum. And no, it was not in relation to cricket. She stopped watching the game when Srikanth stopped batting, and I never took to the game that always prevented me from watching what I wanted on our one and only tv while growing up.

Mum was lavishing praise on this good south-Indian boy (in our house, if you're anything south, that's plus ten marks) from Bangalore (an additional ten points) who had married a divorcee with a kid. And while that may not be a big deal, back then, for us it was. We as a family had just gone through my sibling's divorce and my neice was often viewed as 'unnecessary baggage' by the suitors that were to follow.

Yes, so Kumble (who could have had any girl he wanted, to quote Mum) married this woman and even faced-off her ex in a messy court battle that he survived with the same talent he applies to his game: grace, and more grace. I know for a fact that my parents, who din't even know him and are never likely to get to know him personally, blessed him.

Eventually, we found ourselves a Kumble too, someone who's everyinch a great guy, and an everyday hero.

And today, as Kumble stands tall, and as colleagues and sporting greats gather around to backslap him, the success must taste sweet. It came at a price: Kapil Dev famously made him cry in his first Test when he called him the bespectacled geek from the south who knew nothing - his critics refuse to even call him a spinner because he does not bowl textbook type.

And yet, that's what sets him apart. He broke the mould. On the field and off it. Just like our Kumble. To two men, very different and yet very alike, thanks.