We are the champions

I have been meaning to write this article for quite some time but was afraid to do so. I didn’t want to jinx the happenings. Now that the sensational Saturday is over and we are the reigning champions of all formats of the game, I feel much more at ease getting this out.

For the past couple of months, an entire nation was glued to their TVs, mobiles and computer screens trying to get an update on what was happening on the cricket ground. Tea benches became discussion hot spots. Coffee breaks at offices across the country were the places where each player’s and team’s stats were discussed in detail. An entire nation had only one thing on its mind. CRICKET.

I had always been a dabbler of sorts in sports. I can possibly say that at one time or the other I would have played all the sports that was there to play.( I mean conventional sports…don’t talk to me about show-jumping or trap-shooting here) . But cricket was always a sport close to my heart, especially since I thought I was a bit good in it. There was a time when I used to wake up early and head to the nets to practice, although much of the time was spent bowling to senior players and batsmen who had established themselves. It was after a long stint at bowling and rolling up the mat pre and post practice sessions that I think my coach permitted me to pad up and hit the nets.

I can never forget the day when I played in the zonals. Facing up to the terrible speed of lanky, scary fast bowlers who seemed to have injected steroids only into their arms was a terrifying thing for a teenage kid. The euphoria I felt when I glanced a wayward ball on the leg-side to the boundary and another when I played a late cut to the boundary behind was unimaginable. For the first time, I was being applauded by more than equals from the stands. I may have achieved other laurels in other fields but that 7 second applause from the team sitting in the batting pavilion was something I had never experienced before.

Those were the good old days. I later slipped out of cricket and moved on to plenty other things being the butterfly that I was. Cricket went from being a passion to being a past-time to being a once in a while thing to being playing when there was a shortage of players at the ground where I used to hang out. Years went by and I was just another of the million fans who watched TV and got in to the frenzy only when the Indian team was playing. Even then, if there was a flurry of wickets falling down, I used to switch channels and see what else was playing on the idiot box.

My sister on the other hand was a cricket fan. No no no…let me rephrase it. She was a Sachin fan. She watched only when sachin played. She adored, admired and had a borderline obsession about him. And being a brother and doing what brothers generally do, I used to tease her as much as possible using sachin.

Not that I didn’t like Sachin. I admired him, loved his strokeplay, his humility and just about everything about him. But when you see that the maximum you can needle your younger sis is to talk bad about her idol, I am sure that all brothers wouldn’t take the high road. I didn’t either. There were numerous occasions when I used to tease her, taunt her, pass not-so-nice comments about Sachin, just to get the raise out of her.  This has been happening over the years and doesn’t look like it will stop any time soon.

Come the world cup of 2011. From the beginning , India has managed to somehow remain in the favorites in the game, even though they had a couple of bad games and narrow misses. It all boiled down to the final stages of the game. I never realized the cricket fan inside me was dormant for so long. And the time for the dormancy had come to an end. And it came to an end in grand fashion. The need to be updated on the game, to see what is happening (despite the firewalls at office, low connectivity issues on my mobile etc) was paramount.

I was surrounded by equally charged up colleagues at office. It was the bitter end of the month and we had absolutely no liquid cash(no solid cash either…) to be able to go to a pub or elsewhere to watch the game. We scrounged around, got a few bucks together and hit the unlikeliest of places. MARRYBROWN near office.  Our total order amount was around 800 bucks but we spent close to 4 hours in that place. The orders were placed at timed intervals (we also had big egos along with our small purses) so that the staff there didn’t think of us as free-loaders.

The semi-final saw me as being the only person in office. All my colleagues had taken off and were watching the match from the comfort of home. I was in the meantime trying my level best to break through whatever firewalls my system admin had put up but was coming up short on technical skills. My mobile was my companion throughout the long day and finally after a while couldn’t hold back and left for home. My trip was not in vain, as our boys won their rivals and moved into the ultimate showdown.

Everybody has written a lot about the final, discussing from the stats of each player to the combinations, to the starting line-up to the bowling lineup, to the batting strategy etc etc. Suddenly everyone was an expert. And I was a confused fan. I didn’t know what to believe, who was stronger, who would survive, who would outwit the other. At the end of it all, I just wanted one thing. INDIA MUST WIN.

The game proceeded and looked to be in our favor for most of the time, barring the last overs where our bowlers were literally run whores. Still the total looked gettable. We had the butcher and the master blaster on our side, didn’t we? All such illusions of supremacy was destroyed when Sehwag got out. The entire arena came to a standstill and deathly silence(except from the scattered Srilankan supporters) prevailed when God got out. The going looked tough. But that was when the tough got going. Gauti prevailed. Kohli survived. Yuvi supported. And Dhoni. What does one say about Dhoni. He mastered, destroyed the defenses, struck the offence and carried India to its victory. 

When the entire team erupted onto the field shouting, screaming and running wild, the entire nation was engulfed in celebrations. Fireworks burst across the country. Fans were wild throughout the night. One billion prayers had come true. I have always been accused of being an atheist. I have to clarify. I believe in god very much. It’s just that I hate him/her(not being a MCP here) a lot. But that day god redeemed him or her self slightly. If anybody deserves the cup, it had to be the mortal GOD of cricket, Sachin. As I saw him hold the cup high, I didn’t even notice the tears streaming down my cheek. Yes. I was an Indian. Yes. I am a cricket fan. And Yes. I lived to see the day when Sachin lifted the cup.