It is hard to describe what I felt when I was picked in the Bombay team in the 1958 -‘59 season. I had scored heavily in the inter-collegiate and university tournaments but such was the strength of the Ranji side that I wasn’t sure of finding a place. I felt honoured when the call came.

I made my debut in the quarterfinal against Madras, after Polly Umrigar, our skipper, pulled out due to injury. I scored an unbeaten 30 in my only innings, and we won by 10 wickets. The experts were impressed with my 89 in the semi-final against Services, and 85 in the final against Bengal, and from then on there was no looking back.

Little did anybody know then that that victory in 1958 -‘59 signalled the start of a winning streak that would last for fifteen seasons!

Bombay was easily the best team in the country. The word ‘team’ is of particular significance. Undoubtedly the players were talented, but it takes much more than mere talent to maintain the standards that we had set for ourselves. Communication – the levels were high, as was the camaraderie between the players. The seniors went out of their way to make the juniors comfortable.

The train journeys would be fun. Travelling to a city like Kolkata invariably took two days, and we would spend our time playing cards. The team would move around as one unit off the field as well, with the players turning down individual invitations for dinner.

Our penchant for having a good time off the field was complemented by intensity on it. We had some fine captains during that period. Polly Umrigar would analyse the strengths and weakness of the opposition inside out and plan accordingly. Bapu Nadkarni, who succeeded him, was a great motivator. I remember going through a bad patch in one season and wanting to be dropped down the order to No. 4 in a game against Saurashtra. But Bapu would have none of it. He inisited that I go in at one-down as usual, and I ended up regaining form with a knock of 70-odd. Madhav Apte, who led Bombay to two titles during this phase, was the person who made me ‘slipper.’ Those days, the slips were considered the sole preserve of the seniors, but Madhav broke that tradition and placed me there, in view of my catching skills. Manohar Hardikar, who succeeded Bapu, was my teammate at Shivaji Park Gymkhana.

As is the hallmark of a good side, someone would invariably stand up to be counted whenever we were in trouble. Sharad Diwadkar rescued us in the 1963-64 final against Rajasthan with an innings of 177. Ashok Mankad, who had been elevated to the Bombay team due to his consistency at the junior levels, got 80 and we amassed 526, eventually winning by nine wickets. Then there was the league match against Saurashtra the year before when I bailed the team out with Farokh Engineer’s help. The score was 136 for seven when we came together and added 101, before I fell to an overambitious shot in what was the last over of the day. I had scored 151 and expected Polly ‘kaka’, the captain, to congratulate, if not garland, me! But as we entered the pavilion, he looked through me and clapped for Farokh, complimenting him for remaining unbeaten and thus being able to carry on the next day. I got the hint. That was Polly kaka’s way of teaching me that while it was important to play good cricket, it was critical to be professional. The way I was batting, I could easily have added another hundred runs with Farokh the following morning.

We had the better of some strong sides in the finals. Hyderabad and Bengal were fancied to break our run, but they fell short. Rajasthan made it to the final on seven occasions and lost every single time. Theirs was essentially a collection of stalwarts from different regions who had been brought in as professionals to enable them to open their Ranji Trophy account. Vijay Manjrekar and Subhash Gupte, my Shivaji Park Gymkhana teammates, played for them for several years. Their presence notwithstanding, Rajasthan found it difficult to fire as a team. Our positive mindset did not help their cause.

My priority when I was appointed captain of Bombay in 1968-69 was to consolidate on the foundation laid by my predecessors. We registered some memorable wins, the most talked about of which was the triumph over Tamil Nadu in the 1972-73 final. It was a brute wicket, which had been tailored to suit Tamil Nadu’s spin twins S Venkataraghavan and V. V. Kumar. They dismissed us cheaply on both occasions, but our spinners outbowled them!

A lot has been said and written about the loss to Karnataka in the 1973-74 semi-final (on the basis of our first innings), which brought our fifteen-year streak to an end. I guess the law of averages had to assert itself at some point! Karnataka possessed a quality side, and their victory in the final was well deserved.

Our fifteen-year winning streak was the outcome of outstanding batting, bowling and fielding. Bombay’s batting tradition has been hailed all over the world, but the fact is that we would not have been half as successful had our bowlers not picked twenty wickets on a regular basis.

This piece will be incomplete without saluting the lynchpin of our bowling attack, who bowled us to many a famous win, including that triumph over Tamil Nadu in 1972-73. Padmakar Shivalkar was an incredible left-arm spinner. He was skilled at adapting to different batsmen and conditions. He was always accurate on a good wicket and a devil on a turning track. He would have picked at least 200 Test wickets had he been born in a different era, or in another country.

Ajit Wadekar was a key member of the Mumbai team that won the title from 1958-59 to 1972-73 uninterrupted. This feat has no parallels in world cricket.