Cricket Times They Are A-Changin’

March 12, 2015 Leave a comment

Cricket, the game of glorious uncertainties. World Cup, the biggest stage the game has to offer. And how the stage has changed!

kapil1983In 1983, Kapil Dev played one of the most breath-taking innings (apparently) to help steer India out of tight corner. At 18/5, Kapil and Kirmani carefully constructed a partnership to take India to a winning total. Against the perpetual minnows – Zimbabwe. Kapil, that day, scored 175 not out. Out of a total of 166. Kirmani scored 22. Unfortunately for the world, there are no tapes or archives of that day because of a BBC strike. No one was recording it on a TiVo or HD+ or their high def cell phones. India went on to win the World Cup in 1983.

dyanora-tv-oldFor 28 years, Indian cricket fan reminisced about the 1983 Prudential Cup win, the catch that Kapil took to dismiss Viv Richards, the greatest ODI cricketer of all times, the 175 not out, the military medium of Madan Lal, Mohinder Amarnath, Roger Binny, and the guile of Bedi, that spell of Sandhu, and many such things. In 1983, many Indian families bought the black and white TV sets from companies like Salora, Uptron, Beltron. Many of those companies do not compete in the television market, or any market for that matter, any more. Some of those TV sets came with wooden cabinets that people would close to protect them from dust and unwanted access. The channels had to be changed by twisting a hard knob that made the sound of cricket ball hitting the bat (almost). And the memories are distinctly black and white – a beaming Kapil Dev wearing an Indian Cricket Team jacket/ sports-coat (logo on the breast pocket) holding that cup at the Lords’ balcony – etched on an Indian cricket lovers’ mind for almost three decades.

Back then, they sold post-cards. In the absence of desktop wallpapers or Facebook walls, people collected bingo cards and post-cards of players. K Srikanth hitting a lofted square cut, Sunny Gavaskar smiling in a close up, Ravi Shastri in that blue and yellow jersey with a white helmet at the Benson & Hedges series down under, Kapil Dev’s signature bowling pose. There was Big Fun, a chewing gum company, which must have made a fortune by somehow convincing a generation of cricket watchers to collect bingo cards of cricket and football players.

In the coming three decades, we tried hard to repeat that feat. In 1987, the first world cup outside England, in India, we lost the semi-finals of Reliance World Cup. Shortly thereafter, we pinned our hopes on a short fellow named Tendulkar. 1992 wasn’t ours (we won 2 of 8 matches). 1996 took us to the semi-finals again, where a Sri Lankan demon (the first one after Ravana) took us apart.  Tendulkar fought back valiantly, but once he left the golden rectangle (like Jataayu), even the pitch turned on us. In 1999 (horrible super six performance), 2003 (a Bazooka Ponting vs Zaheer Satkela in Final), 2007 (knocked out in round robin with one win against Bermuda!), we hit a here and there, a reasonable high and an embarrassing low.

During this time, the whites were replaced by colourful dresses and multiple brand endorsements. And the black and whites were replaced by color TVs. The CTVs were replaced by a myriad of varieties – Plasma, LCD, LTV, Flat screen, curved LED, 3D, Smart TV. Internet streaming is the new thing. The broadcasting evolved. From 1-3-5 cameras per match, suddenly, there are more than 20-30 cameras per game. There are cranes and javelins and quadcopters. There are moving boundary cameras. There is stump-vision. Oh, how I loved the Sky-network’s boundary camera vision which moved from right to left as the bowlers ran in to bowl!

By 2015, the few commentators that used to be have given way to an army of commentators. Sometimes, the line up of commentators is like a team that could take on any of the current world-cup contenders with aplomb, despite their age. The time spent on technicalities by ex-greats have made a successful commentator out of Ravi Shastri (for the sheer variety he introduces in the commentary box with phrases like ‘tracer bullets’) and Harsha Bhogle (the common man’s commentator).

From two umpires, we moved to three. From three, we have moved to 3+ technology. We have seen Hawk-eye, spin vision, snicko meters, hot-spots, stump mics that record sound, and multiple cameras whose job is to just watch your bat and the crease. We have learnt all about “it’s the on field umpire’s call”. We have learnt about marginal errors. And we have noted with great relief that Steve Bucknor’s faulty version could be replaced by an android. Finally!

The equipments evolved too. From the culture of heavy bats for heavy ground strokes, we moved to long handles, light bats, custom bats, curved edges, heavy bottoms. Somewhere, we learnt about Tennis elbow too. Leather balls became white. No longer a shining red cherry, yeah? And now, one ball has given way to two. To be used from different ends of the stadium. The softer kookaburras to the harder SGs, the realization that SG was Sanspareills Greenlands, and not Sunil Gavaskar, also became all pervasive. Thigh pads and helmets became lighter and sturdier. The LED lights of stumps and bales – who’d have thought! Reviewing umpire decisions rather than getting fined for showing dissent is almost as strong a deviation from the gentlemen’s game as an Indian bowler clocking speeds of 145+ consistently. Umesh Yadav – you have my vote for now!

The discussions evolved. From quoting shots and moments, the cricket debaters have started quoting statistics – averages, home and away records, fastest 100s, strike rates, no of dots in a double century, game impact index. The visualizations now show multi-coloured lines to show the singles and the boundaries and the wickets. There is an accurate capturing of short and good length deliveries. There are dossiers that players carry on their iPad. About their competition. Joel Garner probably believed in small things. Like bowling at fiery pace and making the bowl land in the right areas. And playing mind games. Most teams in the last world cup were probably spending 6 hours discussing how to get Sachin Tendulkar or Virendar Sehwag out by reviewing various batting tapes.

And then 2011 happened. Yuvraj happened. Sachin happened. Mahendra Singh Dhoni happened. The bowlers tendulkar2011showed up. The fielders did. And Wankhede erupted. And a new memory got etched in the new generation’s sub-conscious – that glorious six to win the world cup, Mahindra Singh Dhoni holding the pose after hitting that six and then completing a gladiatorial 360-degree swing of the bat, a team carrying Sachin Tendulkar around the ground, and sending the cup to the background. The color across the stadium – Blue. And yes, the tricolor. And Sunil Gavaskar making the remark – “when I die, the last thing I want to see is the six that Dhoni hit in the 2011 world cup final”. Now when I think of winning the world cup, my memories are not Black and White. They are, 32-bit-high-definition-high-resolution-high blah blah, full of colors. Oh, how the game has changed!

 

There is a small thing that hasn’t changed. Commentary on radio used to be a visual narration filled with excitement. It could not depend on visual aids or the colors. It has stayed Black and White.

“Amarnath is bowling from the pavilion end to right arm batsman Ian Botham.

Bowl thoda andar ki taraf aayee aur ballebaaz ne kalai ko ghumate hue square leg ki taraf bhej diya hai. Umpire chusti se hatTe hue. Bahut hi aakarshak stroke tha Narottam (Puri), aur bahut hi khoobsurti se is se pehle ki fielder Bishan Bedi gend tak pahunche, Botham ne ek run poora kar liya hai. Bahut hi sadhaa hua shot tha aur aise shots se hi aapko pata chalta hai ki Botham jitney ache gendbaaj hain, utne hi ache ballebaaj bhi.”

 

“Agli gend karne ko gendbaaz mohammad shami pavilion end se hawa ke virudh daudte hue, aur off stump se thoda bahar tappa kha ke, halke se bahar ki taraf gayee aur ye jordaar appeal. Aur ye umpire in Ian Bell ko out karaar diya. Mahindra Singh Dhoni ka ye is match mein teesra catch, aur Shami ka pehla wicket.

Absolutely Shekhar. This was a beautiful outswinger. You could say that it did not swing much. It just held its line and from the wide angle of the crease from where Shami bowled it, that was good enough to flummox a well set batsman like Ian Bell. Kudos to Shami for having persisted with that line and invite Ian Bell to play that shot. Bell played inside the line and was beaten all hands up. With that we will take a short advertisement break and we will back shortly to celebrate this wicket.”

Oh! Sorry. There’s one thing that has really changed about radio commentary – There are no boundaries hit on air anymore. They are “shandaar BSNL chauka. Connecting India.”

 

 

 

 <This post is my entry for the Blogmint – Harsha – Blogger Dream Team Contest>

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To call it “Playing It My Way” is UNFAIR

December 29, 2014 1 Comment

Disclaimer: Irrespective of the rest of this post, let me be clear on thing – I am still not open to a debate on Sachin vis-a-vis the other cricketing geniuses. For me, Sachin is “the one”. It is a choice bordering on irrationality, but we are all allowed our vices, right?

His book, though, is another matter.

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Playing It My Way is Sachin Tendulkar’s autobiography, written with a little bit of help from Boria Mazumdar.

Blurb from Flipkart (I pre-ordered the book): In this long awaited autobiography, readers will be able to see glimpses into the life of this living legend; and of the man behind the sport, the husband, the father and an extraordinary human being– quiet, calm and with a rare humility. This is the story of Sachin Tendulkar, the most celebrated cricketer of all time in his own words.

So, how does it fare? In one word, the book can be described as – UNFAIR. To the fans of the man, to all those who follow cricket, to all those who read autobiographies, and to all those who pay to buy books, and maybe even to those who downloaded copies from torrent sites as well.

The book was launched with a lot of hoo-ha and fanfare. I think the fanfare was better than the book itself. It was like the Yashraj films’ trailer thing. The gag that’re in the trailer are all that are there.  The launch had a session where VVS, Rahul Dravid, Saurav Ganguly and Sachin shared the stage. And Harsha moderated. That was king. More interesting stories came out of the closet that day than an entire hardcover book.

To be fair (to the extent possible), when you’ve lived a life that’s scrutinized at every possible turn, there is precious little left to reveal. Yet, the man has been an immensely private person. And he finally writes a book titled – Paying It My Way. What’s the least you would expect-  honesty? An explanation of the many unexplained things? Things you’d expect were brushed under the carpet while saying – we had a tough day in the field…

By all possible benchmarks of a biography – the book is BAD! And that’s an understatement. Its boring, it lacks any new insight into a person who’s the biggest sporting legend/ brand that this country has seen, and rather than being an autobiography OR a biography, it’s a collection of post-match interviews. “The boys played well”, “The ball was doing a bit”, “My goal was to stay on the crease as long as I could”, “The team supported me”, “the management has been supporting the team”, kinds. It adds nothing to your understanding of what made the man the legend.

If I think about his career, as someone who has no desire to get into the stats surrounding his career, I would still want a such titled book to  get into a few spheres–

  • The kind of monstrous desire to play cricket and be successful in it that made him play two matches a day with hours of practice around it
  • His relationship with Marc Mascarenhas, his brother, his family, etc. – the people he thanked so well in the speech that made a nation cry
  • The momentousness of the first match. The match that actually stood out in his lifetime. Was there one? Ever? Anything?
  • The mental and physical preparation that went into some of the big matches, like world cup final or Sharjah.
  • The Chennai test, and some such disappointments
  • His captaincy years
  • A little more about the monkeygate incident.

 

I can go on and on and on. But the book has nothing to offer.

And that’s a huge disservice to the people who’ve been waiting for the book. What was the point of the autobiography anyway? I might as well have clicked a few hyperlinks on Cricinfo. The book is an opportunity wasted.  And that’s why I think the book is unfair. Grossly unfair.

There are times I am glad that there aren’t too many times Sachin has given hour long interviews. His aura would have diminished. For now, let me go and watch some of his innings on youtube.

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Thank You Sachin

November 15, 2013 2 Comments

Its been a while since I wrote something on this blog. But then, some things need to be written. And that’s that. I am here. To say one more time. #ThankYouSachin.

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In a way, you can call him my first ever crush. That sounds inappropriate coming from a guy, but its true. You stay up all night to be with him. You would probably be ready to give up your precious bicycle to shake hands with him. And not wash your hands for days after that. You wait eagerly to watch them in action. Say something. Something. Anything. Their arrival (on the pitch) is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Their departure, the worst point of your day. They become the reason why you stick on to a match. The only time I managed to get an autograph was when he came to Ranchi to play in a double-wicket tournament (do double wicket tournaments still happen these days?).

I have a distinct memory that defines my relationship with Sachin. But the memory that I am talking about is a couple of years before Sachin debuted. It was the India-Australia league stage match of ’87 world cup. India lost to Australia. Steve Waugh had done what he always did. Came to bowl the death overs to sound the death bells of the opposition. Somewhere you liked Steve Waugh. Somewhere you hated him. At that time, I was 7 years old. Our room (me, bhaiya and didi) had posters of Srikanth, Gavaskar Kapil and co. We lost by 1 run. After a pretty awesome start led by Gavaskar, Srikanth and Sidhu. We had a usual middle order collapse. Our number 10 batsman in that match was Manoj Prabhakar, who eventually opened the batting for India at a later stage! We still lost. I pulled down the posters of Shastri et al. Tore them down.

Being someone who started watching most of his cricket around that time frame, I always thought that we had a spineless and a 50% team. 50% of the team was there on merit, while the rest where there because we did not have anyone better. The older players had started fading, and newer ones were few. The flashy shastri of Benson & Hedges had given way to a walk-stop-walk-stop Shastri by then. Colonel was slowing down. Gavaskar, Srikanth and co were exhausted. And we celebrated mediocrity. And victories over Pakistan, as and when they happened.

And then came Sachin. In 1989. The exhibition match. The four sixes of Abdul Qadir in the same over. I felt good. Then NewZealand. 82 of 49. Somewhere, Perth had happened. And I was growing a spine. For the next decade, he became the reason I watched matches. I switched off television after he got out. I hated people like Jonty Rhodes or Adam Bacher. I hated people like Harris even more, bloody part-timers who got him every once in a while. I rejoiced Olonga badgering, even though I knew that the previous one was a one-off fluke. I created revenge stories in my head. And the ultimate high of that hit-over-the-midwicket off Shane Warne. Or, that straight six of Kasprowicz in Sharjah. And that straight drive. And that paddle. And that drive. And then the nudge. That flick off the hips. That manoeuvre. That lofted shot over the wicket keeper. That hunger for that single. That back. That tennis elbow. That heavy willow. That stance. That looking towards the sky. That late cut. That playful leg break. And the number of times I played those shadow shots in the house. In the neighbourhood. Tried to. Still try to.

Our hopes created many Robins for this Batman. And we blamed everyone else for the times when India failed while he fought on. Gradually, we started blaming him. We blame the Gods, don’t we. For the pain and suffering in this world. So, we blamed him. But did not feel good about it.

We wanted him to retire earlier, because we didn’t want him to die a mortal. The sudarshan wielding Krishna who was shot by a mortal’s arrow. Sa-deha Swargyatra.

And now he does. It doesn’t matter what he did in the last year or two. Because we are ungrateful like that. Because we forget that the Indian Cricket team of today is, in fact, his legacy. And of a few others who get forgotten when a moment like this comes (Dravid, Ganguly, Laxman, Kumble…). There may be more who may end up scoring more, better, faster, more consistently, more frequently. The game will change and the players will too. Yet, there will be none who can be Him. And there will be none who will impact a sports in a nation like he did. So, lets celebrate the One. The Only One. #ThankYouSachin.

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Kohli summed it up for me when India won the world cup last year – “He has carried India for 20 years, so now it is time we should carry him.”

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Image courtesy: Dailymail.co.uk, Firstpost, NDTV

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Sachin

December 23, 2012 Leave a comment

The Tallest Cricket We Will Ever See

The Tallest Cricket We Will Ever See

I am affected by his retirement from ODIs. It’s time. It’s his decision. But it didn’t happen right. And we know it. And maybe at the end of SAF tour, he will announce his test retirement. The signs are there. The statement was on phone, brief, and a formality for a decision made differently, in some other place.

I am a Tendulkar fan. I won’t use the word “was”. I am. And I will be. Let me try and explain why.

Today, Indian team is going through a slump. Right? Several test defeats home and away, spineless performances, unimaginative captaincy, etc. etc. are being discussed. And somewhere, Sachin’s run with the team is being questioned. And people are talking about their growing disinterest and apathy towards the game.

If you were born in the 1975-1985 period (you just missed being a part of India’s WC 84 victory, but you’ve heard about it), you may remember. We had a horror of a team in late 80s and 90s. Full of legends dragging themselves, and a support battery that boasted of one hit wonders. Batsmen that were crafty or interesting or talented, but not match winners. Spinners that never could replicate the famed Bedi-Prasanna-Chandra era. Fielders that could make me feel like I am super-fit. At my present day fitness levels. And attitudes that reeked of – thank you, take it or leave it.

And then we heard conversations. About this talent. And then we saw it happen. Against Abdul Qadir. And then New Zealand. And then Australia. And then. And then. And we finally had something to attach our hopes and aspirations to. And he played. Like a tidal wave, he offered us adventure, excitement and peace. We rose with him. And we fell down with him. We reveled in the desert storm inning that did not win the match but took us to the final. And we made statements like – “if only he were around for 2 more overs”. Or – “Ab kya faayda. Band kar do ab TV”. And we cursed anyone who came up some convoluted statistical analysis to prove that you aren’t what you are made out to be. One of the things that all religious people tell you is that it’s about believing. And hence, the #SachinIsGod hashtags/memes never seemed too overboard.

Fast forward to 2011-2012– he fails. Critics who couldn’t last ten overs on the field debate how long he should stay on the field. I don’t care. Though I am all worried too. And I hope that there will be a swan song, but I am afraid that there won’t be one. For this is not a bollywood movie where someone just listens to a patriotic song or a mother’s cry and gets up to beat the bad guys.

Now, is there someone who’s been able to keep me interested? Someone to explain – why it doesn’t matter if I don’t follow every delivery of the game?. Online, offline? Why I won’t go out of my way to buy “Cricket Samrat”, “Sportstar” and go through the scoresheet of every match? And those cutout posters on the walls of your room? Yes, Kohli will earn his chips. And maybe a Rahane will happen. But right now, all hell breaks loose, and everyone’s fixated on this one guy. And you still want to debate that he is not the one you want to see as your best bet. Be my guest. I have nothing more to tell you.

Tendlya – Do what you’ve always done. Put on your headphones. And listen to Kishore Kumar or Pink Floyd. For the chatter ain’t worth it.

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Sachin’s Retirement?

November 30, 2012 6 Comments

My response to GreatBong’s post on Sachin’s retirement and the comparison with Gandhiji.

Somewhere, most people are finding it fashionable to ask for Sachin’s retirement – legacy, quitting at the top of your game, etc. Well, sadly, most of us won’t even know what the top of our own respective game is. Maybe, that’s why, every text book on success asks you to keep challenging yourself for a higher goal. A goal higher than the one you’ve just achieved or you think you can achieve.

First up, I don’t want to pay heed to the comparison. It’s grossly unfair to compare the two. What Gandhi baba was affecting was the future of an entire nation and maybe his outliving his utility could be, well, a debate worthy point. What Sachin is affecting, and apparently adversely, is what a vocal part of the media is parading as ‘his legacy’. Well, first up, his legacy is his choice. Maybe he does not want the legacy that you think he should leave behind. Maybe its right now a joke, but probably true, that he wants to continue to be fit and performing enough to take the cricketing field alongside his son. Maybe after scoring 100 centuries etc, he still cares about that one more century, one more knock, one more extended stay at the crease facing the best of the bowlers. Remember what Punter said about old fashioned cricket meaning that he goes out and stays at the wicket for as long as someone else cannot get him out. More than he cares about his legacy. Maybe his love for the craft his bigger than his love for what you think of him. Just maybe. Remember Pancham? The great artist. The great musician. The one who’s revered. Remember his swan song – 1942 A Love Story. Remember how he got his “3rd and last” film fare after his death. And remember his failures in the last phase of his career. No? Should he have stopped playing music? Composing? To protect his legacy. And not given us Ijaazat? Or 1942? I believe that the world of Hindi music is richer by the coming together of those three geniuses for Ijaazat.

Pro-sport is an individual choice. Competing at the highest level requires many sacrificies that the average reader of any blog is not even capable of. Sachin’s actions may hurt your sentiments by having (apparently) caused a cricketing loss, but beyond that, there is nothing. To enter the game was his choice, to have treated his body with care (or not) in a way that he has outlasted his peer group (and you don’t see him walking out of the field or not fielding at the boundaries or not taking those cheeky singles yet), his love/economics embedded in the game – EVERYTHING is his decision. And hence the legacy that unfortunately exists in your head or mine is our respective problem. When he started, he started playing the name. What he is leaving behind is a legacy alright. BUT a legacy is not just the last chapter of a career that spanned more than two decades. His legacy is that a generation of cricket fans have survived, have not given up, and continue to debate Indian cricket. His legacy is a team that teams around the world don’t write off anymore. His legacy is the joy of watching great cricketing shots every time you pick a Sachin video. And the collective disappointment when he is dismissed. His legacy is the ability to convert the theoretical basics of cricket into geniusly creative implementation that you and I can debate for hours. And like a  corporate review system, if we’re constrained by the last patch to decide what the true legacy of this performer is going to be, that AGAIN is our respective problem.

The unfortunate truth somewhere here is that our selection committee has forgotten what they need to do when players are going through a bad patch. However, that’s true of us a nation. Gandhi parivaar should not be touched because they have a legacy. Everything Ambanis touch is corrupt because there’s is a legacy too. Don’t question your parents, because they are, after all, your parents. Asking Dravid, Ganguly or anyone else who was big enough a name to rest has always been a problem. Except Laxman! 🙂 A related unfortunate truth is that a player should give way to someone who can do the job better than him/her. In this case, we have had a serious dearth of options. If we had options, we would not have discovered the true genius of Laxman, btw. I could agree that Rahane and Mukund and co deserve extended blooding, but that could well be at the cost of a Dhoni, right? Is he performing with the bat? He does not even have a legacy. And worse still, he does not have a technique.

Whether or not there is a set of 11 players beyond this current lot that needs to be looked at is a question that should be asked, in all fairness. But, the debate cannot be about Sachin. Let the debate be about Indian Cricket. Let the debate be about what’s working and what’s not. What can be improved and what cannot be. Who needs to go out and who needs to come in. And if the answer is Sachin, the people in charge need to have the balls to say it.

And yes. If, in there, somewhere, Sachin is still your best bet to go out, take on a quality opposition and make a game of it, then let him play with the peace of mind that he deserves.

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Culture of Whites

November 9, 2012 Leave a comment

As a young kid, impressionable, ambitious, and a little crazy as I might have been back then, there was a little thing that was sacrosanct. That someone who was really serious about his Cricket, wore the “whites”. The other colors were for fun. Like the Benson & Hedges tournament down under. The cherry was supposed to be red. For it to be menacing and serious. You get the point.

So, when I went for my first cricket camp, since I could not really have a separate set of appropriate whites for playing cricket only, it boiled down to my white school shirt, and that white school trouser that you were supposed to wear on a specific weekday, for example, a saturday. I had white canvas shoes as well. But this time, thankfully, big brother came to my rescue. He had played school league already, and much as it would have affected the monthly budgets, my parents had bought him a pair of cricketing shoes with spikes and everything. He had outgrown them, and they were available for me. A little worn out, but a matter of pride, because not everyone had them. And you had to go to “Main Road” to buy them in Ranchi.

But, in short, the whites were sacred. Once you donned the whites, you played seriously. The stakes became higher. The intensity, that much stronger.

And the players wore those white V-neck sweaters in winters. The ones which had a combination color rim around the neck. The colors representing your country colors. Indians had blue. Aussies had yellow and baggy green. Me and my brother had pleaded with mom to get her to knit one of those sweaters for us. And she did. And we wore them, and felt let like the real deal. Nothing could go wrong after that. Yet it did. You did gt thwacked around the park. Or bowled out for a duck. But that could happen to Kapil. OR Kris Srikant as well. It’s just that you felt that you were giving your 100%.

And you imitated. That wonderful Kapil pose. Or the long Kumble run up. Or, that menacing Akram yorker. Or, even Gladstone Small. Or, that Shashtri defend and take a few false steps trick. Or that Kris Srikanth twitch, walk to the leg umpire, stretch your feet apart much more than any other batsman would, and try to take on the Akrams and the Ambroses of the world.

And much as the game was called a gentlemen’s game, complain like rowdies whenever you felt that a decision was unfair against India. Be ridiculous about supporting Sunny’s walking out. Be kiddishly gleefuk about that akram yorker that brought some ofthe finest to the ground. And discuss the match for several hours after it ended. That hit and that miss. Quite different from the post-match package by Sony Entertainment.

And just as the day would be coming to an end, with a little bit of light still left before sunset, run to the ground to get a five over game in. You and your band of fellow gentlemen. Whites or no-whites.

Such was the culture of whites. As I remember it.

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A Very Very Special Friend

August 19, 2012 1 Comment

Have you ever had a friend that you depend on without really being overtly worried about where they are at this very moment? The kinds you don’t bother to call for days and weeks and months, but you know they are there. The conversation with them starts seamlessly every time. Irrespective of the break. Maybe not so often, but they are the ones that you call when you really need to talk.

Today, I can feel a void. One such friend has decided to call it quits. Not be there. A very very special friend.

A little too much is said about Tendulkar (who kept me interested in cricket in an era where there was hardly anything going for indian cricket fan and all the “talent” was in Australia, Pakistan or West Indies), Ganguly (who brought the spunk in the team with shirtless heroics), Dravid (the wall that stood tall), Dhoni (the deliverer of the world cup), etc. But not so much about Kumble.. and this very very special guy from Hyderabad, Vangipuruppu Venkata Sai Laxman.

As a young cricket fan, I watched every match, every series, every tournament. Always hoping, never believing. Always knowing that it’s possible, always scared that it won’t happen. And then, “it” happened. On the third and the fourth and the fifth day of a test match in Eden Gardens. And whether I accept it or not, that was the day I stopped being scared. He became the friend that I did not talk about too often, but always knew that I could depend on him. He might have failed me a couple of times, but that’s ok. I never burdened him with the weight of my expectations, and he never acted like he didn’t care.

Dravid once wrote – “Nothing calms you like Laxman”. So true for the fans too. And while saying that, I am not discounting what a Sehwag or a Tendulkar or a Dravid had done already or were doing. But, here is a cricketer who did not have the odds going in his favor, who was the favorite scapegoat on the sacrificial altar, and who had been left out more often than he was called in. For a batsman of his caliber to not have played the world cup despite a 16 year long career, would be considered blasphemous in many countries, and I struggle to find an example so intimidating for the opposition, yet so indifferently treated by his own countrymen. And in the middle of all this, that sense of calm is enviable. I remember that 5 second jumper from Michael Jordan in 1998 against Utah Jazz. The remarkable thing was the sense of calm as he went up, and time stood still for a moment, as he downed the jumped. If I had to take a bet on someone who could do something similar for Indian cricket team, it would have to be VVS. And nothing brings it to the fore as acutely as the test match against west indies.

As Mukul Kesavan points out in his article in Telegraph today, someday, the statisticians will discount the value of VVS by looking at his sub-50 averages that “will strike the future fan as pedestrian”. But while the phone minutes run higher for your most recent girlfriend, the value of that single call made to that dear friend in that moment of need cannot be quantified. And you, VVS, have been one of the dearest friends of Indian Cricket.

 

(Image Courtesy: HindustanTimes)

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RD – The Man, The Possibility

March 15, 2012 2 Comments

(Image Courtesy: Internationalreporter.com)Haven’t blogged much, because more often than not I am not sure if what I am going to write is allowed by organization’s social media policy or not. Despite the blog being all personal thoughts and rants and what not.

Nevertheless, I am sure you all know about the retirement of probably the best match savior (and hence, winner) of India – Rahul Dravid. There are reams and reams of great articles out there. So, I won’t add to that pile.

I have just one thing to say about why I am so fascinated by him – He makes me believe that I can be like him. Great. Without my greatness being a gift of God as is the case with a Sachin or a Laxman or a Lara or a Warne or a Ponting.

RD – Thanks for showing an entire generation of players how it’s done. Because that’s how it’s done.

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Cricket Can Be Like That

January 13, 2012 2 Comments

Long ago, I was working on a difficult project. The analysis had been difficult, the recommendations not too obvious, the storyline not so coherent. One of those engagements where V75 of the deck looks completely different from V01, and quite different from the final version of what is shared with the client. Intense debates happen. All the time.

At about 4 in the morning, we finalized the presentation. After 2 hours of going through pennies and dimes and the lines and the fonts and the colors and the boxes and the flows and words and the sentences, we sent it to the client. We were all sure about the great job we had done. We had couple of hours left to lighten up and get refreshed. We had a plan. And we felt good about it.

First 20 minutes were by the book. It was a good feeling. Then we hit the third insight on the sixth slide, which made us refer to slide 192 of the appendix section. That number was wrong! Shoulders dropped. We all lost a bit of our altitude and attitude. From that point onwards, for the next 1 hour 40 minutes, things were on the tenterhooks. We could not be sure any more. And the client was not sure. They double checked everything. They had a feedback about almost everything. We felt bad. We were not ready to concede our mistake so easily. They were not ready to acknowledge the work that had gone in. Everyone was unhappy. And we get into that mode of well, give us another chance and we will set it right. But some problems are just difficult. Sometimes.

Critics often remind me of clients. They are the gatekeepers of the collective insights, through their (right or wrong) opinions. A mistake, that nudge or that poking of that ball that you should have left, the ambitious loft, the failure to get your act together in the face of crisis, are dissected in every possible way. And if nothing else, the leader. Uneasy is the head that wears the crown.

What did I do when it was all over – I was terribly upset. I got all defensive initially. Angry in a bit. And finally… I don’t remember :-).  I would have liked to remind myself – Shit Happens!

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Do they even want to play?

January 7, 2012 Leave a comment

Several years back, when I played competitive sports for the last time, I was still in school. I did not play a lot, but like every cricket playing kid in the country who focused on studies, I truly believed (at that time) that I sacrificed a fledgling cricketing career at that time.
Nevertheless, I was playing the school league cricket tournament back then. When I started representing the school, I was only a fringe player, waiting for someone to get injured or unavailable so that I could get a chance to play. Practice seemed a drab affair and the matches were the real deal. And occasionally I got my chance to play. It were those chances that I wanted to make my own. I knew that I would not be the strike bowler. And for most part, when I was playing the first match ever, people expected me to not bleed runs, rather than take wickets. However, on my part, if I wanted to play the next game sooner, I needed to be better than that. I needed to take wickets and not bleed runs. I was eager. I was tense. I had planned things in my head many a times and things were supposed to work perfectly. And I had no idea who I was bowling to. But as long as I bowl the perfect delivery I would get the wickets. I had a plan.
Except, the plan did not work. The plan was dependent on my ability to bowl a particular line and length with the appropriate amount of turn and flight and drift, and my expectation of what the batsman would do. First over, the plan did not work. For more than one reason. And that’s when I had my first realization. The need to adapt. The second realization came in a little later. You need to setup wickets at times. Its about playing it in the batsman’s head as much as its about planning it in your head. And more importantly, its quite possible that the dude on the other end is going through similar emotions. So, you will get hit. A swallow maketh not a summer. Neither a boundary destroys your career. However, with every run scored off me, I wanted to fight harder. I would sometimes flip into the run saving mode. At other times, I would want to get that batsman out the very next delivery. And I made mistakes. And of the many that I made, there was one that I did not make – I did not stop trying. I did well occasionally, and not so well on other occasions. But I was satisfied. Objectively speaking, I’d not have made a good cricketer, but I was not an unsuccessful one while I played (with all the boxes ticked while I was still playing).
Why am I writing all this today? Because when I watched the bits and pieces of the previous test match at Sidney and the one before that, it seemed like we had a perfect side capable of winning the test matches, but we were not trying. Not hard enough. And I know that’s not a good place to be, if you really want to win. It seemed like I was watching a team going through the motions. I remember a funny window. Gautam Gambhir in the second innings seemed positive, and got a few nice drives and strokes in. And then Dravid was clean bowled. We had a drought after that. For 50 odd deliveries, not a single run was scored. I can believe that the bowling was good (even though the pitch was flat and had nothing to offer to the bowlers). What I cannot believe is that if you want to rotate strike every now and then, you are not able to. Not the kind of batsmen who were on the crease at that point. We sent out a message. That we could be dominated. And we were dominated. Again.
Are we a bad side? I don’t believe it. Is Dhoni a bad captain? I really don’t believe that either. Let the analysis paralysis happen. I actually believe that he is a great leader, and there is more to come from him. Did we play bad cricket? Yes. Individual or collective? Collective.
My saddest observation right from the England series is that our team does not want to be on the field. The matches we won in India were also not because our team suddenly wanted to be there. It was because the other side was playing bad cricket. And with the crowd rallying, sometimes the theatrics kick in when they are playing at home. But, as a team, most of them would rather be at a beach drinking cocktails than be sweating it out. That’s a dangerous mindset. Oversimplifying it, it’s the same feeling that I’d have about going to office every now and then. But oversimplifying it again, I know that once I am on the job, I better be on the job and not elsewhere.
I really don’t see the team coming out of this rut for the next two tests. It will continue in the one-dayers as well. Once we are back home, we will win some. And we will lose some. But this team needs a psychological conditioning more than the athleticism that Harsha Bhogle is recommending. Or maybe, a break. Sometimes, you’ve got to let Lee Germon be the captain.

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Tomorrow, we will win

April 1, 2011 Leave a comment

My heart skips a beat, as I think about the match tomorrow. In anticipation, trepidation, excitement and fear.

In 1983, when India won the worldcup, I was 3 years old, my brother was 7, and we were a joint-ish family living in a small town of Uttar Pradesh. I think it was around the middle of the world cup that our family bought a TV, a black and white Uptron TV, that used to come with wooden slider doors to keep the TV safe while you weren’t watching it. It was on that TV that my mamaji, my cousin, my dad and everyone else saw India lift the cup, and it was then that my brother became a cricket fanatic. I think my love for cricket has something to do with that world cup, because I do remember watching every match of the World Championship Series in Australia after that, and Ravi Shastri winning that Audi as the man of the series.

In 1996, I was a India fanatic when it came to cricket. A fan, who believed that irrespective of the quality of opposition, India is entitled to win every match. Just to get disappointed every now and then, but holding on to the belief. Tendulkar had come of age. I had belief. And there was a small matter of faith in match winners like Ajay Jadeja and Anil Kumble.

In 1996, we played Pakistan in Bangalore, and in that era, my brother was a gully cricket mate of a certain Mahindra Singh Dhoni, and I was Mahi’s school cricket mate. I had played cricket at the school and district level. I had played alongside this someone who I thought could make it big, but never would. It was too difficult to break the shackles of corruption in Bihar, inside sports as well. Nepotism was a fact, and the opportunities were fewer. My brother had stopped representing any team, and started trying to build a career based on academic education, and I had chosen to get ready for the mass orgy known as IIT Joint Entrance Examination. I had, for what it was worth, hung my boots. But I was a fan nevertheless. The evenings in a small town like Ranchi, and in a township like Mecon are all about celebrating the victory of the match gone by, or the drowning of the loss. We played tennis ball cricket. We felt happy that India had defeated Pakistan. Few days later, we met Sri Lanka, a team we had lost to in the league stage (and we called it a fluke), and a team that we lost to yet again (bad pitch, right), despite that oh so hopeful brilliance of getting Jayasurya and Kaluwitharana out early. The memory of Vinod Kambli in tears still swells me up. Even though I know for sure that we could not have won the match from there.

15 years later, I am still a fan. I am not fanatic anymore. MSD is inside the television, and I am on the armchair. Given the company I keep, and the analysis that everyone does, and the views and opinions that are bombarded at me from all corners, I have, I believe, become pragmatic. When India plays Australia, I weigh options, and think of getting Ponting out cheaply because he is not just a sheet anchor, he is also a destroyer, and an aggressive leader. I evaluate the weaknesses of Indian bowling. Back then, watching a cricket match was about shouting childish abuses, stupid chants of abracadabra – arvinda desilva swaha, and wishing that every delivery get a wicket, or every shot from Tendulkar’s willow be a boundary. Today, it’s about appreciating that brilliant spell from Wahab Riaz or Brett Lee, even as they come close to demolishing the Indian dream of winning this world cup. If I don’t do that, people will think that I am a biased Indian who is not enjoying the game in totality, and missing out on much the game has to offer. Well – intellectualism comes at a price. It often takes your passion away. One upon a time, I too wanted to wear the blue. And those who wear it, and have walked inside a stadium full of people cheering you to win (Mahi wears it. I envy him. And I love him for that), I can only dream of the high they feel. At that one moment, its not rational. And I create that moment. I am no Navjot Singh Sidhu sitting in an air-conditioned studio analyzing the game. I am ‘The Indian Fan’. And to me, the only thing that eventually makes or breaks my days, is whether India won or not.

And so, this world cup, for the quarter final and the semi final, against two brilliantly tough opponents, I let my heart be where it belongs. I watched and predicted like an Indian fan. Before the match started, my heart and mind knew only one thing. That we will win. I chanted. And I cursed. I did not get up from seat with the fear of jinxing things. Things might have looked like going this way or the other as the match progressed, but I knew only one thing. That we will win. As Ponting accumulated a masterclass century, and people started talking about the pressure, I still said only one thing. That we will win. As Wahab Riaz ripped Indian top order, and analysts and pundits said that we are some 30 runs short, I still said only one thing. That we will win. I added, purely from my heart, that the margin will be 30 runs at least. And my heart was right. We did win. By 29 runs.

Now, we are back to an opponent who’s given us one of the worst scars of cricket, with the exception of Miandad’s Six in Sharjah. Incidentally, after India lost the sharjah, I tore off all the Chetan Sharma posters at home, that used to come with Cricket Samrat. When India lost that 1987 match against Australia, I did feel betrayed by Sunil Gavaskar and Ravi Shastri and co. In 1996, I felt sorry for Sachin, and I hated the entire team for what they brought the match to (apparently). Was there any logic in those emotions? I doubt.

I don’t want to be pragmatic and think about the strengths and weaknesses of my team. No. I am back to where my heart belongs. I know that we are going to win. And damn it, I will raise the stakes this time. If India bats first, we will win by at least 35 runs, and if India chases, we are winning by at least 5 wickets. And till these predictions are violated, you can try and use any mathematics, logic, divine analysis to suggest that something otherwise would happen. I would just stick my tongue out at you.. make a :P, and then go “brrrrrrrrrr”. I will be there. Watching every ball of the match. And believing in only one thing. That we will win.

You still want to say something? Brrrrrrr…. We Will Win

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Sreesanth da man?

March 30, 2011 Leave a comment

One of my big arguments before today’s semifinal between SL and NZ was that tomorrow’s 11th man toss-up for India should be between Sreesanth and Chawla. No Munaf, No Nehra. If SL win, India should play Sreesanth, and if NZ wins, India should play Chawla. Now that SL has won it, Sree it is!

Let’s look at SL – they have largely been clinical so far. Except when they lost to Pak. That was also the only occasion none of their top four scored a half century. They did get exposed against NZ this time as well. Let’s face it – SL have a below average middle order (except Angelo, who I have extreme respect for). Moreover, they have four pure bowlers who can hardly bat. So, the recipe to defeat SL is easy to understand and difficult to implement. Get 3 of their top 4 back cheaply.

Pak has been a rather poor batting side getting whittled for less than 200 on more than one occasion in an otherwise high scoring tournament, and a tremendous bowling side managing to restrict the opposition nevertheless. Umar Akmal has been the only relatively consistent batsman. There are no tonners in the side, and their war veteran, Younis Khan, has looked out of sorts. Also, not surprisingly, they have looked more susceptible to pace than spin.

Indian batting has been positive, except for the Powerplay collapses, with Sachin, Sehwag, Gautam, Yuvraj, Virat (and Raina) amongst runs. Indian bowling, on the other hand, has struggled to get rid of top order batsmen. Tamim Iqbal (BAN), Strauss (ENG), Porterfield (IRE), Amla (SA), Smith (WI), Haddin (AUS) – one of the openers has scored a half century in 6 out of 7 matches they’ve played so far. So, it can be safely said that they need something different against SL. The problem with Chawla, Nehra and Munaf is that there are no surprises (barring Chawla’s googly) when it comes to them running in, throwing ball, and going back for the next one. India’s 11th player has been, generally speaking, a value destroyer for the team. Not really contributing much or bleeding sufficiently to cause enough worries in a close match.

This brings me to the conclusion that India should play Sreesanth in both the matches. Sree has some pace, and a lot of histrionics in him, which will come handy. He is not predictable. He himself doesn’t know what he will come up with next, and can produce some unplayable deliveries by design or by accident every now and then. Mohali pitch should have something for pacers. Both SL and Pak have reasonable good players of spin bowling. Lastly, looking at the 12 non-descript overs bowled by Munaf in the last two matches, I am sure MSD can hide Sree in a corner, if required. He is definitely a better fielder than Munaf, and hopefully, will talk sEo much that some opposition batsman will lose concentration.

Let’s spare a thought from Pakistan’s perspective as well. They will have to win it through their bowling. However, it’s the inadequacy of their batting that makes me wonder if they can win. Their bench is not likely throw a batsman who can take care of their woes. They can surely hope that a Younis/Misbah does an Inzamam. But then, Pakistan team hasn’t really every performed up to the predictions. They, usually, write their own destiny, a minute at a time.

However, there is a very disturbing reality to “what happens if Pakistan defeats India”. For one, India not playing the finals would mean a likely 70%+ reduction in the potential revenue from the final (for various parties), just as India playing the finals would maybe increase the currently projected revenues by 20% (these are educated guesses). The producers and directors will have to set the IPL pre and post-production work in full speed right away. Dhoni will have to request Jharkhand Govt. to increase the protection levels for his family. Sachin will be heartbroken. And a nation full of zealots will look for a new religion.

 

Eleventh Hour googly:Eleventh Man

One of my big arguments before today’s semifinal between SL and NZ was that tomorrow’s 11th man toss-up for India should be between Sreesanth and Chawla. No Munaf, No Nehra. If SL win, India should play Sreesanth, and if NZ wins, India should play Chawla. Now that SL has won it, Sree it is!

Let’s look at SL – they have largely been clinical so far. Except when they lost to Pak. That was also the only occasion none of their top four scored a half century. They did get exposed against NZ this time as well. Let’s face it – SL have a below average middle order (). Moreover, they have four pure bowlers who can hardly bat. So, the recipe to defeat SL is easy to understand and difficult to implement. Get 3 of their top 4 back cheaply.

[AD1] Pak has been a rather poor batting side getting whittled for less than 200 on more than one occasion in an otherwise high scoring tournament, and a tremendous bowling side managing to restrict the opposition nevertheless. Umar Akmal has been the only relatively consistent batsman. There are no tonners in the side, and their war veteran, Younis Khan, has looked out of sorts. Also, not surprisingly, they have looked more susceptible to pace than spin.

Indian batting has been positive, except for the Powerplay collapses, with Sachin, Sehwag, Gautam, Yuvraj, Virat (and Raina) amongst runs. Indian bowling, on the other hand, has struggled to get rid of top order batsmen. Tamim Iqbal (BAN), Strauss (ENG), Porterfield (IRE), Amla (SA), Smith (WI), Haddin (AUS) – one of the openers has scored a half century in 6 out of 7 matches they’ve played so far. So, it can be safely said that they need something different against SL. The problem with Chawla, Nehra and Munaf is that there are no surprises (barring Chawla’s googly) when it comes to them running in, throwing ball, and going back for the next one. India’s 11th player has been, generally speaking, a value destroyer for the team. Not really contributing much or bleeding sufficiently to cause enough worries in a close match.

This brings me to the conclusion that India should play Sreesanth in both the matches. Sree has some pace, and a lot of histrionics in him, which will come handy. He is not predictable. He himself doesn’t know what he will come up with next, and can produce some unplayable deliveries by design or by accident every now and then. Mohali pitch should have something for pacers. Both SL and Pak have reasonable good players of spin bowling. Lastly, looking at the 12 non-descript overs bowled by Munaf in the last two matches, I am sure MSD can hide Sree in a corner, if required. He is definitely a better fielder than Munaf, and hopefully, will talk so much that some opposition batsman will lose concentration.

Coming back to today’s match;Let’s spare a thought from Pakistan’s perspective as well. They will have to win it through their bowling. However, it’s the inadequacy of their batting that makes me wonder if they can win. Their bench is not likely throw a batsman who can take care of their woes. They can surely hope that a Younis/Misbah does an Inzamam. But then, Pakistan team hasn’t really every performed up to the predictions. They, usually, write their own destiny, a minute at a time.

However, there is a very disturbing reality to “what happens if Pakistan defeats India”. For one, India not playing the finals would mean a likely 70%+ reduction in the potential revenue from the final (for various parties), just as India playing the finals would maybe increase the currently projected revenues by 20% (these are educated guesses). The producers and directors will have to set the IPL pre and post-production work in full speed right away. Sachin will be heartbroken. And a nation full of zealots will look for a new religion.

Dhoni will have to request Jharkhand Govt. to increase the protection levels for his family. Maybe its time for another eleventh hour googly from him and get Sree in.

 

[AD1]Do u want it after 3rd and 4th para…talk of pak side first and then Srilanka as first matc h is Pakistan. Migfht go better after the intro

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India-Pak Semi: The Pinnacle of Advertising in India

March 30, 2011 1 Comment

Today should be noted in the books of history. It doesn’t happen too often. And it’s unlikely to happen again in the next 8 years. As India play Pakistan in the semifinal of Cricket World Cup, the world of adveritsing would have changed, and the price barriers would have set a new benchmark for how expensive an ad slot can be. It will be interesting if any weed smoking son of the gun can calculate the real ROI of an ad slot today.
Here’s the opportunity (the ‘for dummies” version) –

  • Everyone’s watching – It’s that one topic. If you are marginally aware of cricket, you’d be watching it. If you’re not, then you’d be forced to, because the others won’t let you put anything else on the tube.
  • The same thing – The match is being telecast on three channels I guess- DD, Star Cricket, Star Sports. Each of them have their reach and captive audience. English speaking audience would prefer Star Cricket, given the commentator panel. DD would be the default for the parts of the country where people don’t still have cable tv/ set top boxes.
  • And they are confident India would win – the confidence of the nation, because despite the relative strengths or weaknesses, Pakistan has never defeated India in a world cup match. Oz and SL have. And that’s why the emotions are a lot more subdued. Lots of critics would weigh the balance of the two sides. And lots of people on the street would feel that we are going to the final. Its as much a celebration as it is an encounter
  • Yet they expect it and want it to be competitive – It has usually been like that. And more so in our head than in reality. A 50 run partnership in another match can be seen as normal, but would be seen as a high pressure situation for the bowling side today. So, people are going to take it to the wire, irrespective of the end score.
  • Without any lapse of attention – Its an 8 hour+ marathon. That tension would means a higher adrenalin rush, and greater attention to the most minute details of your ad. People will be all eyes and ears. They will watch just that one channel, and will keep looking for it. Because they don’t want to miss that moment when something happens – that wicket, that boundary, that divine shot, or that cut, or that miss.
  • And will be discussing it – everyone’s a critic today. Everyone has an opinion. And today, it’s out in the open. To the extent, that they would discuss the ads that feature the cricketers to assess how weird/funny/ridiculous it might be. In some cases, those ad taglines would be used in the context of the match. Imagine Shoaib bowling a bouncer to Sachin and thousands of people quipping – aisi delivery khelne ke liye protection chahiye.
  • In their rooms – Quite like the superbowl, there is a frenzy in metros and villages alike. Inverters/ Batteries/ Generators have been arranged for and charged to ensure that a power failure does not stop them from watching the match. Watch-dos have been organized by people inviting friends/ family/ colleagues. Offices have arranged for projects and audio systems for large hall screenings. And people will be reaching early to get their prized seats early.
  • Or, on the internet – If OZ match was an indication – half the internet generation of India would be tweeting/facebooking about the match, with their emotions out in the open. There will less analysis, and more expression of the moment. Y
  • And will remember – Yes. We may not remember what the boss said this morning. But we are pretty good at remembering that six Sachin Tendulkar hit of Kasprowicz in that Desert Storm innings, or the exact shape of the Venkatesh Prasad delivery that took care of Aamir Sohail. And Sehwag ki Maa stays as one of the most epic ads (in terms of recall) ever. I won’t be surprised if Yuvraj’s Revital and bhaag daud se bhari zindagi might be the next one.
  • If they like or dislike something – the opinions and expressions are not always about things people dislike. It covers the likes, the neutrals, the sharpness or the dimwittedness of the moment, analysis of players, analysis of commentators, ads, presentation ceremony and everything else.
  • And while doing all this, they are consuming! Let’s not forget that these viewers will also be guzzling down large quantities of drinks (Alocholic and non-alocholic) with chips, popcorns, dine-in orders, kebabs, pakodas and what nots. Unless the delivery guy of the neighborhood shop refuses to go for delivery today, or the ever so accommodating mothers and wives decide to join the cricket party.

What you are assured of is an assured and a HUGE number of viewers who’d not flip the channel even as you beam them with the most inane and absurd ads, and there are quite a few of them. What you gonna do that’s gonna leave a name for you? In advertising, there cannot be bad recall, as long as there is recall.
And yes, its also a day where the nation’s collective productivity loss would have most likely offset any commercial return possible. Even the Prime Minister is not working. Yet, wouldn’t the ultimate master of ceremonies say – “People of India, and People of the World, ARE YOU HAVING FUN?”

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Is Winning Everything?

March 25, 2011 Leave a comment

It’s a fairly serious question. For someone like me who would like to tell his team every day that its not. Because winning anyway happens while you are trying to become better than yourself. Someone quoted on Twitter the other day – I get worried when people are more passionate about success than being passionate about the things that they love to do.

The debate cropped up yesterday during the India-Australia QF match (where else, but on twitter) with a friend. I have a fundamental disconnect with abusive cricket, people walking down to the batsmen and trying to sledge them out, or generally creating a muck of what’s otherwise such a beautiful feeling of competing to win. And in that sense, a leader which encourages that is more so at guilt than the player who does it. To me, that leader can be a great competitor in the game, but never a legend.

You probably know by now that I am referring to Ricky Ponting. The man is a batsman almost as good as any that most of us have seen in our lifetime. Not surprisingly, Twitter Intellgensia (Twigensia?) was quite unnerved by the boos received by Ricky Ponting, given he is a “legend” with prodigious talent. However, Ricky Ponting needs to ask himself if he deserved that. The answer is a resounding Yes. And its not true just of him. Harbhajan Singh and Sreesanth from our own team deserve some of that whenever they face fans of other countries, because they represent not the game, but this sick notion of winning is everything, and I shall win at any cost. I am sure there are as many quotes supporting Lombardi’s “winning is everything”, as there are opposing with a “how you played the game”. To set the contxt, unlike many, I am not one of those who looks at India’s sledging fest against Aussies in the series down under as – “Damn right, time to give them back” with great admiration. I still believe in a hostile spell of fast bowling shaking the batsman, or some Sehwagian aggression in batting destroying the line and length of a bowler being far more telling than the choicest abuses about who’s mother is sleeping with whom.

And hence, my conclusion is that Ricky Ponting, one of the grittiest batsman today, does not come close to being a true sportsman, for what he lacks is the spirit to play fair and square. If he is so good a player in such an excellent team (which I believe that he is, but probably he himself does not), why hide behind the cover of cheating, abuses, panic and blame-gaming whenever something is not going your way. The question has never been about his batting skills or his prodigious talent or the indisputable champion that Australian team has been. The question is – whether he needs to do what he does to win the game. Most likely, the answer is no. Victory is insecure. Greatness/Legend is not.

And for me, the logic extends to day to day life, office culture, music and theatre and movies, sports, writing, anything and everything. Being a cheat, standing up for cheating, being insecure in your victory are not signs of a great person. And while I can, I will keep reminding myself and everyone that winning is definitely not everything. It’s about becoming better than everyone else, including yourself. And if that does not ensure winning, nothing can.

BTW – The legendary ones are usually not known to be jerks. The keyword is “known”. They still might be jerks.

And remembering Ritesh’s quote – “Paisa khuda nahi hota Mr. Das.. par khuda kasam, khuda se kam bhi nahi hota!” 😉

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Shaz, Waz & Bhaz? Dunce Premier League

February 1, 2010 3 Comments

Harbhajan Singh has made some shocking revelations in his yet to be published autobiography, portions of which were leaked online, reportedly by himself. He has apparently been inspired by Rakhi Sawant who believes that Jejus favors those who claim their rights, lefts and centers, at the drop of a hat. Unconfirmed sources reveal that the Turbanator, whose last successful outing was a dance competition where having gone for a back breaking dance performance along with partner Mona of “Bhajji jaisa koi nahi”, lost interest in any kind of outings shortly after the show.

He developed a keen interest in innings though, a phenomenon which is hardly driven by the feedback he received for his dance performance after winning the show. The judges, the good looking duo of Waseem Akram (known for his in-swinging Yorkers) and Sushmita Sen (who has been a bollywood industry insider for a while), caught his fancy, though it was unclear till now who had a longer lasting impact on Bhajji. During the feedback, Bhajji apparently heardthe judges say that “broke dunce” was something actors like Hrithik excelled at, and could be a great asset for a Bollywood career, if he ever decided to pursue one. Drawing inspirations from the successful Bollywood careers of previous actors like Mazhar Khan, whose blockbuster role “naam abdul hai mera sab ki khabar rakhta hoon”, and Mohsin Khan (whose unforgettable performance in Saathi, featuring songs like “chahe meri jaan tu le le”, are stuff legends are made of), Bhajji decided to immediately check the dictionary meaning of broke dunce.

Having concluded that Waseem bhai was instead making a point about what he thought of Bhajji (dunce) and his financial status (broke, the reason he apparently decided to become a swinger rather than a spinster), a devastated bhajji took the vow that he will beat Waseem bhai at his own game – toe crushing yore curse. Though he never looked up the meaning of toe, industry insiders claim that they fully understand the part of Waseem bhai’s anatomy he was going to crush/curse. Too tired to be a Moin Khan shouting “shabaas waseem bhai, shabaas”, Bhajji took to black magic, especially visible in his black turbanating performances in international cricket being supremely superior to all other spinsters being tried by the Indian team. He finally earned his rightful place down the order and in the middle overs.

I'm a black magic woman!

Black Mamba!

Bhajji trying doosra

Bhajji has also seen black a few times, the signs of which could be seen in his symbolic conversations with Symonds in a match during the friendly Australia series.

Sign is king!

Lately, unconfirmed reports from media suggested that Bhajji having read the confederacy of dunces (he reveals in the leaked prints that he never actually read the book, he just heard that it’s an award winning book which talks about the force that intellectuall duncity can be), and getting spurred by the successful run of 3dunces, led by the karismatic/kareenatic Aamir, remarked that being a dunce is not a bad deal, as long as you are not broke. Since then, he has decided to consume a lot of MSD for keeping him high up the preferential ladder compared to noobs like Mishraji (the mixed one) and Ojhaji (mera black magic tumhare ojha-tantrik jhaad phoonk se better hai). Some crack indeed. These addictions have also revealed why Waseem bhai’s comments hurt Bhajji so much.

After Shaz, why not Bhaz, is a question, he reportedly asks in his book. “Bhazzi & Wazzi on the beach” could have become the greatest love story since “Ajab Prem Ki Ghajab Kahani”! I think that Wazn’t meant to be!

Filed under Cricket, Humor Tagged with , , , ,

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