Next came the tools of the trade. He swung the ball - manipulated it with hand and wrist rather than relying on a body action to do the job as many so-called swing bowlers do - outswing and inswing at will, the latter being the pace bowler's googly. He was all but impossible to read, though, for his grip remained essentially the same for both, the change coming only in a movement of the supporting thumb. Of his bouncer, we have already spoken, a potent weapon, occasionally used to excess when allowed, occasionally, for no apparent reason, against lesser batsmen, who were left bemused, not to say bruised, by the assault.
From Dennis Lillee he learned the legcutter, which he employed on dusty wickets. Against England in Gwalior, in the Nehru Cup of 1989, he produced a first ball of such startling pace to Allan Lamb - a rare England thorn in West Indian flesh during his career - that it pitched around middle stump, squaring the batsman, before jagging away and plucking out off stump. In its way it was as devastating a delivery as can ever have been bowled. He could assess the pace and productivity of a pitch, could adjust accordingly, and possessed the gift of analysis allied to instinct, which could undermine any batsman. Finally came resilience, stamina and courage.