From Canterbury to Andhra: Gary Stead and Justin Paul’s 34-year cricketing bond

Cricket’s fondness for coincidence can border on the theatrical.

In Lincoln this week, Cameron Paul ran in for New Zealand A against India A in the third unofficial Test and claimed his first wicket for the side when Dhruv Jurel holed out to Alex Stead. Alex was only a substitute fielder, but he was in the right place at the right moment. It was a catch straight out of the stars, one that would have brought the warmest smiles to both families.

After all, 34 years ago, their fathers, Justin Paul and Gary Stead, stood arm in arm for the New Zealand U-19 side that toured India. Around them were Stephen Fleming, the Hart brothers (Matthew and Robbie), Heath Davis and Geoff Wilson, the last Double All Black to represent his country at the highest level in both rugby union and cricket. Their opponents were a sprightly Indian side led by Rahul Dravid.

Justin and Gary’s paths diverged thereafter.

Gary went on to play for the senior team before carving out a successful coaching career, including stints with the Black Caps and the White Ferns. Justin, meanwhile, walked away from cricket to pursue a life in education, among other things.

Yet, more than 11,000 kilometres from Lincoln, the old teammates found themselves in India again, this time as coach and chronicler. Justin had decided to shadow Gary, documenting his compatriot’s Ranji Trophy adventures as Andhra’s head coach — an unexpected assignment for a man who had been managing the Black Caps across all formats just three months earlier.

The idea took shape over a conversation during the winter.

“I told Gary that he has a great story, the transition from Black Caps to Ranji Trophy. I told him that I will come and write about it. I really didn’t think anything would happen from there,” Justin told The Hindu.

Then he was made redundant, and the gap in his life became the opening he needed. A media travel grant from the Asia New Zealand Foundation followed, while a free trade agreement between the two countries had been signed only a week earlier.

“I was very lucky that the stars aligned. People wanted to hear about New Zealand-India relations. And I think it was a unique story, in that you’ve got India touring New Zealand, but here you have Gary, a New Zealander, at the domestic level challenging himself in a different environment.”

For Justin, though, the pull was human: a seasoned former Black Caps coach learning his trade afresh with a group of young Indian men.

A spinner in paradise

Their relationship goes back to Canterbury and New Zealand age-group cricket. Justin even moved two hours to turn out for Gary’s club in Christchurch, though the two disagree on how it all began.

“We met each other when we were 16. He will tell the story that he got me out stumped. I was an opening batsman at the time and I batted like a limpet, so I can’t imagine that I left the crease. I think he’s lying. But he hit me for six, which is far more believable,” Justin quipped.

When Gary first mentioned Andhra, Justin had no idea where it was. The clue that eventually clicked was Visakhapatnam, the opening stop of the 1992 tour, where Rahul Dravid’s side had given the visitors a tough time.

“A lot of our fastest bowlers were nullified by the conditions and our ability to play spin was not the equal of our Indian counterparts. As a spin bowler, I bowled quite a few overs in that series and really enjoyed it because I was given more bowling than I normally get in New Zealand.”

He also offered a spontaneous review of the game.

“What I’d really like to see is people playing off the back foot. It’s too easy for a batsman just to sit on the front foot. You’re only tested at one pace. I’d like to see. I’m a purist. I like a fast bowler from one end and a spinner at the other. Just test the batsman a little bit more.”

Three decades on, he remembers little of the traffic but vividly recalls that almost the entire touring party fell ill. Things have been much better on that front this time, he pointed out with relief.

Watching Ranji Trophy cricket for the first time, Justin noticed an immediate role reversal. At home, a spinner is one of 11 players and might get two overs before lunch. Here, spinners lead the charge. He pointed to Andhra’s game against Chhattisgarh, in which the lone Andhra seamer bowled just one over with the new ball, and it came in the 77th over of the innings.

Devotion of all kinds

Nothing in New Zealand had prepared him for the fan culture, even at domestic matches played on deserted grounds. About 200 people turned up at Mulapadu, a remote village on the highway between Vijayawada and Hyderabad.

“It was quite surreal. We’re just not used to that! If Kane Williamson, for instance, was driving in New Zealand or walked onto the ground, someone might lift their eyebrow at him and that might be about it. But gosh, K.L. Rahul really had it the whole game. There were probably only 200 people there but they sounded like 10 times that many. And if he got some runs, I think people would have exploded.”

His favourite episode, though, was off the field. A torn sight screen during the Andhra-Chhattisgarh clash, and the drama surrounding it, was “more interesting than the day’s cricket”. His decision to leave for Chandigarh after writing off the game as “flat-lined” backfired when Chhattisgarh staged a late fightback to seal the win in the closing hours of the final day.

Then came a Dussehra adventure. Justin went alone to the riverbank to watch the deity’s boat procession, having turned down an offer of an experienced local guide.

“I took every wrong turn I could. I was in the wrong queues, slick with sweat. But I felt fully alive!”

Comparing notes

Justin believes his relationship with Gary thrives because of how much they share beyond cricket. That does not stop him from doing his homework before meeting his friend, with the game invariably making an appearance in their conversations.

“We are friends beyond that. I would want to talk about him and his family and how he was. Not necessarily about how Kane Williamson is.

“I’m super proud of my friend and how he’s gone, winning the World Test Championship and having lost that World Cup final with the Ben Stokes bat incident and what have you. That was horrendous for New Zealanders. And then his 3-0 win in India. That for me is probably the most amazing achievement of any of the teams that he has been involved with. We were all just blown away by that.”

But coaching a domestic team in a country that is not one’s own is a tough proposition, perhaps even tougher than taking charge of a national side. Gary, Justin believes, is still learning.

Andhra had six coaches in six years before Gary arrived, with no clear picture of who its best players were. Gary’s response, as Justin tells it, was to identify those players, back them with an extended run in the team and make them feel secure.

What Justin has seen on his return to India is a culture of care: a quiet arm around a player leaving practice, a check-in when required and time given to the individual. Gary also has a role in high performance and coach education, with the aim of setting up a system that will outlast him.

“I enjoy the cricket, don’t get me wrong. But I am fascinated by all the things around it. The dynamics of the team. How does a New Zealander come into Andhra Pradesh and pull them together as a team? Or help improve some of their young talent like Sheikh Rashid and S.V. Rahul. In India, everything’s turned up to 12. And especially if you are a New Zealander, where things are quiet and a little bit sleepy. The colour, the noise… It’s just bursting with life.”

Every tour leaves something behind: a scorecard, a scar, a friend. In 1992, two teenagers left India with all three. Their friendship has merely changed its setting: one now stands with a whiteboard and the other with a notebook, while India, turned up to 12, hums around them both.