The perfect farewell

India's favouritest son is leaving the battleground. For good. There have been several strong voices postulating that he should have retired immediately after our World Cup triumph. Well, you can't blame him. The man that he is today and the boy that he was have only one thing in common: they see themselves doing nothing else but playing cricket. He's 40 now and there is very little doubt left in anybody's mind that we'll never be able to replace him. Interestingly, his meteoric rise coincided with the economic liberation of early '90s and it's a fitting tribute to his endurance that he has had his highs and lows just like our humble Rupee did over the years. But he always made a comeback. Unlike our Rupee. Although his 100th century tested our patience like nothing else, he made sure he dictated his own exit. In style. The way he played the game. With respect. So it's OK to go overboard with his swan song. However, is it perfectly fine for the media to go overboard with Sachin's valediction? For argument's sake, let them have a field day on his past, present and future. Besides, the sort of impact this pint-sized sportsman had on our psyche is beyond quantification. I used to be a huge cricket fan during my school days and to me, Sachin was greater than God. (And this was before Mathew Hayden called Sachin God and the phrase struck.) Akin to millions of my countrypeople, i often used to watch matches only to witness his innings. I remember having this huge lump in my throat when Shoaib Akhtar castled him on his very first delivery to the maestro. I don't think i would have felt that much sadness for anybody else's failure. Moreover, he wasn't anyone else. He was Namma Sachin, to borrow my dad's words. (After so many years, that grief is being successfully being gifted by Roger Federer every other month.) As a consolation, Sachin went back to the pavilion. Head held high with a bit of disbelief—sans theatrics—touched with a tiny grin that said it all. But then, the kind of pressure he performed under was unrivaled. Try going to work assuming that your output is going to affect a billion unknown souls. He did that for nearly a quarter of a century. There are several more reasons why it's perfectly fine, even for the media, to go overboard with a farewell that we deeply feared. For a nation that not only lacks but also needs heroes, he's a rarity. To those who don't think so, find a replacement and then we'll talk. He may not be a saint so to speak (not that he claimed to be, anyway) but at least he never once tweeted during working hours. Unlike the rest of us.

Champion's Night

I had a terrible dream in which I was a die-hard cricket fan and rather enjoying it. No, just kidding. Anyway, isn’t it funny when a self-confessed non-cricket-fan keeps on harping about cricket? Touché. But trust me, it isn’t my fault. Indian cricket team has to be blamed. They have been AMAZING and surprised me and millions of my fellow countrymen (who are all bona-fide-cricket-fans) with their recent performance. Last night, they did something exceptional by defeating Sri Lanka in Mumbai to win the Cricket World Cup final. After exactly 28 long years.

Cricket is synonymous with Indian subcontinent but when it comes to CWC, even India never had a decent fill. We won it way back in ’83 so it’s almost as if it never happened. I mean, of course, the legacy is always there but we suffer from collective amnesia. Victory has to be repeated again and again to register into our blank memory. And frankly, we had to win this time to generate a new cycle of history, a new history instead of the old one. And history it was that was created last night.

I’m sure not many adhered to their usual bedtime after the match ended. It was time to celebrate and prolong it. Firecrackers were reminiscent of Diwali. Or should I add, a national Diwali instead of the religious one. People were out on the street high-fiving strangers and hugging as if they were waiting for each other since ‘83. It is like the sports version of Fall of Berlin Wall or something. This victory is overwhelming. Euphoria is not the word. You can’t explain such emotions where you want to cry because you can’t deny the significance of being alive and to witness it right in front of your own eyes.

To top it all, Dhoni ended the match in style with a spectacular six that is fated to be part of cricket folklores. Before the climax, Sachin got out without getting his much prophesized 100^th century and Gambir missed his by mere 3 runs. Yuvi and Kohli convinced us that Indian team is not a one-man-army anymore. It’s a team now. Good for us. The bowlers did a good job, too.

On the Sri Lankan side, Sangakkara proved why he, along with Dhoni, is the coolest captain-wicketkeeper-batsman in the world. Muralitharan’s noteworthy comeback from retirement fell a little short of ultimate glory. As usual, Jayawardane displayed his eminence with bat. And Malinga, well, we better not talk about him. I’ve got no issues with his hairdo as he doesn’t sledge nor pretend to be haughty. He was the best bowler in the Lankan squad and made Sehwag limp on a duck and Sachin walk with just 18 runs. On a side note, as a kid, my bowling style was similar to his. My peers thought it wasn't appropriate. And thus a promising career ended prematurely.

Gary Kirsten has to be mentioned. He was cool, composed and methodical. He doesn’t harbor any desire to be the cynosure and last night was his final assignment as India’s coach. The lap of honour said it all. He will be sorely missed.

For the moment, it doesn't matter whether you're a cricket fan or not. Being an Indian will suffice. At least it’s working for me. My dour dad who has fond memories of ’83 win was speechless and letting triumph sink in. Besides, this is what cricket is all about in India. Whatever we witnessed on the TV as well as outside will stay etched in our minds.

Folks I met today on the streets are jubilant and you don’t even need common sense to sense their sense of achievement. Everyone seems too happy to be true. The upside is they are not sad. The downside is this too shall pass. But before it does, this weekend is going to last forever.

After the EPIC match!

Well, we won. In other words, one-sixth of humanity had collective orgasm last night when India defeated Pakistan in the Cricket World Cup semifinal. And with that, our clean record against them remained cleanest. As one can imagine, the euphoria is beyond words and I better not try to unravel it. What I can envision though is the humungous depression we as a nation could have slipped into had we lost this match. It could have eventually affected our country’s economy in the long run. Maybe even a recession, who knows? OK. That’s stretching it bit too far.

To begin with, this was the first ODI match in which Sachin played seven innings. No, seriously. He was the luckiest guy on earth yesterday. I haven’t seen anyone get so many “lives” in a single match. He was playing some really erratic shots there but not a single person could have blamed him for being stupid. Perhaps that is what godliness is all about. Any which way, Indians are born Sachinians. He eventually stumbled at 85. It’s a pity he couldn’t complete his 100^th century. Whatever, he steered us to victory and that matters.

On the other side, Pakistani team looked in control but gradually lost it somewhere and just couldn’t get haul themselves back. Afridi’s face during the final overs said it all. They say it was an empathetic version of PontingFace. Being the best skipper Pakistan could have had for this tourney, the defeat must have saddened him like anything but he’s a hero to millions of Pakistanis and cricket loving folks for his exemplary leadership. Wahib was chosen over swansinging Akhtar and that made a huge difference to their bowling attack. He ended up with five-wicket haul. If you ask me, Wahib should have been awarded the ‘Match of the Match’, not Sachin. Sachin was simply ‘God of the Match’ for being extremely fortunate.

Thankfully, the usual banter on the field was almost inconspicuous. All the players kept their *friendly* language as well as body language at check. The entire game was played with the best of sportsmanship spirit leaving hardly any space for controversies. On the contrary, the ambiance on Twitter and Facebook was way too ugly, to be blunt. People from either side of the border were unrestrained with words and haphazard with nationalistic passions. Expecting anything different with such a crucial match in the background might be insensitive towards these hardcore fans. Maybe it takes an Indo-Pak match to reveal our true jingoistic nature. Rest of the time, we just pretend to be civil. There were moments when more action was going on on social media than on TV. I’m sorry for my Pakistani friends who would have been equally sorry for me had they won.

So, we are all set for the final against Sri Lanka. Whichever team wins, the World Cup’s going to stay in Asia for a change down under. That’s the bonus point. Like crores of Indians, I too want us to win this one. After all, Kapil Dev must be tired of holding up that cup in photos for nearly three decades now. It's time he passed it to Dhoni.

Before the EPIC match!

If you’re into reading crap, you must have read my piece on how cricket sucks and all. Well, I’m not going to renege on what I said (or at least tried to imply) but then I had no idea India and Pakistan were destined to clash in the Cricket World Cup (CWC) semifinal. My superpowers failed to predict its certainty and we are less than 6 hours away from this passive war.

As of now, I hope everyone wakes up healthy today for even if you're sick for real, your office won't believe you. Everyone’s damn excited about this game so productivity is better not discussed. I’d say Indo-Pak match makes AWOL a very legitimate option. The entire country is going to be stalemated once the coin is tossed. That’s a given. Even the sparrows and pigeons outside my window seem to be mighty excited about it. If only they knew the way to Mohali.

By the way, Mohali is the most happening place in the Indian subcontinent right now. After all, it’s playing host to a contest that doesn’t happen quite often. One can sense the hype with huge expectations from the 22 players who will be on the field amid roaring pressure. It’s going to be a riot of emotions. I guess even clouds got emotional last night and shed some tears over Mohali stadium. If rain continues to disrupt, then this match will be a more contentious issue than Kashmir. Anyway, according to my sources, God is a cricket fan so I’m pretty sure weather won’t be a hindrance.

The maxim that politics and sports shouldn’t mix sounds like a remote possibility when India and Pakistan are engaged. I like to call it diplomushy in which emotional bond is practiced between rival countries. Nevertheless, Indo-Pak cricket makes the most of it like it always has, be it in Sharjah or Toronto. Apparently, for countries like ours, sports are a blessing in dissguys. The rivalry is unmatched and so is the language used between players. The other day, I also watched that infamous Afridi-Gambhir-expletives-filled-clash video on YouTube to brush up my token patriotism. As you can imagine, it’s tough being a non-cricket fan in India but you have to give it to crossborder tension.

Today, Indians will be praying for their unblemished record against Pakistan in CWC to remain so whereas Pakistanis would be expecting the opposite. Of course, Indians also want their God-elect – Sachin – to score his 100^th century and make Afridi eat his words and cricket ball (yet again!). They'll conveniently neglect the fact that their cheering is nothing less than a jinx for the Little Master.

Pakistani team has done a marvelous job under Afridi’s mercurial leadership so far. They have been like phoenix if you take the bad press showering into consideration. On a longshot, I even see them lifting the Cup while surprising everyone the way we did back in ’83.

Yea, I know I must be sounding like a cricket pundit here. But since I’m cricket crazy for a day, what’s the harm in abusing the privilege! You see, being a fan makes you feel like an expert on things you know nothing about. Like who’ll win or lose. In fact, the best outcome of this semifinal is that it has created a Nostradamus out of everyone in the subcontinent.

With the kind of hostile history we share, Aman and Asha can take a break today. May the match be played in the best of sportsman spirit and without any major controversy. A few minor ones here and there will do. Today would be remembered for a long time. At least until we play Pakistan again. But the worst part is, even after this match ends, noise on either side of the border will continue.

Cricket, Cup and Countries

Cricket sucks. I could have started this piece in a milder tone but I’ve got to warn the cricket-lovers before I sound nastier than I intend to. We all know it's just a lazy sport involving a lot of furniture. Wooden bats, stumps, bails. You get the idea. I must add cricket is a lovely sport as long as you’re not interested in it. Once you become a fan, it’s a frigging downhill thereafter. You get absorbed into this tedious circus of run-bowl-bat-field routine. No wonder this sport is played in less a dozen countries. Nonetheless, they have something called “Cricket World Cup” (CWC) going on as I type this polemic. It’s beyond humour that an event comprising of only 14 nations uses the word ‘World’ matter-of-factly. Unlike Football World Cup, you don’t witness cut-throat competition to qualify for CWC. On the contrary, non-cricketing nations like Ireland, Canada and Holland are invited to fill in spots against established cricketing biggies like India and Australia. There is nothing wrong with setting minnows against Goliaths but it just illustrates the helplessness of a sport in popularizing itself globally at the grassroot level.

One thing that well nigh sets CWC apart from other sports’ World Cups is the fact that it has the distinction of being hosted in all inhabited continents, something even football and hockey is yet to achieve. I know you must be wondering when did South America which might confuse cricket for an insect held the CWC. For the record, it happened in 2007 CWC when Guyana hosted a match and Guyana is a part of South America.

Cricket is a colonial vestige, at least in India. We were matchless in hockey during the time of our independence from British Raj. So naturally, hockey was chosen to be our national sport. As of now, if you look around, you can clearly point out the discrepancy in our attitude towards hockey. For the first time in 80 years, Indian hockey team couldn’t even quality for Olympics held at Beijing. It sounds like a death knell to something that put India on the global sporting map long before we could even call ourselves a free country

Cricket flourished in the subcontinent under the pretext of being the gentlemen’s game. It was called so not because all cricketers were certified gentlemen. They were not. It was just the nature of the sport. To begin with, it’s a non-contact sport, unlike football or hockey where players physically clash with each other. Cricket, on the contrary, is a collective display of individual space. The bowler has his predetermined run-up. The batsman has the 22-yard limited sprinting arena. The wicket-keeper stays put at his spot. The fielders have their designated area of concern. Even the umpires hardly move. The only thing that really helps this otherwise stationary act is the ball that can be shot in any direction by the batsman and occasional castling of stumps by bowlers. That keeps the momentum and excitement alive among the hapless fans.

And talking of ‘gentlemen’s game’, cricket is quite free from hooliganism that is prevalent in football and other popular sports. But then that is discounted passion. In cricket, the “gentlemen” do something worse. They are known to manipulate match results through match-fixing, spot-fixing, slow-overs and whatnot. It’s pathetic, to say the least. Moreover, cricketing body is known for its leniency towards drug abuse which is conspicuous in its reluctance to work with World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA). The recent sacking of three Pakistani players on doping charges is just a start.

Take a look at our cricketers; you just can’t miss their paunch. It just demonstrates the level of fitness a “sport” like cricket entails. Or at least our cricketers believe it entails. Besides, even on newspaper, cricketers are mostly shown practising all other sports except cricket to “stay fit”. It’s like a colossal joke that has been tolerated for too long.

As you can guess by now, I’m not a cricket fan. But it doesn’t diminish my Indianness. Of course, I’d love to see India win CWC coz the last time we did, it was more of a miracle and less of everything else. I can’t deny cricket is the only thing that actually binds our diverse country north to south, east to west. Nothing else comes even close to cricket in fulfilling this arduous task. Not even Bollywood. And then there is Sachin-factor too. I want him to retire with that one laurel missing on his legendary mantelpiece.

Lastly, this drivel won’t bring a revolution of sort and there must be millions of people who won’t agree with me but it doesn’t change the home truth that we nearly don’t exist in other sports despite having 1.2 billion people under one flag. Cricket’s unprecedented (read: commercial) success has a lot to do with this dismal scenario. It’s a shame but in ways more than one, cricket alone is not to blame. There are lots of other factors that goes in to play and when I say play, I don’t mean sports.

Thank you, Sachya!

This is the first time I’m going to write about a sport which coincidentally is like a religion in India. If I start lampooning this “colonial” sport then this blog will not end so I’ll get to the point with no further ado. However, this sportsperson is much above the sport for me here.

History was made yesterday. I’m blogging about it today.

Sachin Tendulkar scored 200 not out against South Africa, the highest ODI score ever! There are many reasons why I find it irresistible not to overlook this feat. First of all, the last best record stood at 194 runs and not many would have bet on Sachin to surpass it. He not only did the unexpected but also came back to field in the next inning with full gusto, inspite of all the wear and tear that must have took place while batting. Secondly he did it at the ripe old age of 36. Thirdly, Sachin is a little bundle of joy for a divided country like mine where UNITY is a luxury in real meaning of word.

Lots of people dismissed Sachin for overstaying his welcome in the team and that he should retire gracefully. In fact, I was one of them, notwithstanding my lack of interest in cricket in general. But with this knockout, he cements his place not only in the team which nonetheless had no qualm whatsoever in keeping him in as he is essential as always but also in the annals of our memory for as long as we live and for generations ahead.

Yesterday, the whole of India celebrated as we all understand the fluency of Sachin’s wrist strokes, patience and the beleaguering calmness of approach in executing every shot. No language barrier for any of us, just euphoria of unleveled magnitude.

I’m pretty active on Twitter and the kind of exultation it displayed yesterday couldn’t be missed. I didn’t miss it. Like my friend Ivo from NYC tweeted yesterday, “Something just happened and all of India just had an orgasm.”

It doesn’t take much effort to understand the kind of reverence we hold for a person like Sachin. He has been unequivocally stayed non-controversial and the only time I remember him being controversial was when he uttered, “I belong to India and Mumbai belongs to all Indians…” and I stood by him like millions others on this so-called controversy.

Long Live Master Blaster…..