Since childhood, till now n perhaps until I stop walking even with the sticks , I am always there, ready for an evening game of Tennis Ball Cricket, No matter if the sun is blazing its guns or its raining cats n dogs, I would be there in neighborhood park posing like my heroes , Folded arms, chewing Gums, Spining the ball on hand like Kumble, trying to bowl like shane warne does, Criticizing the last match villain or praising the hero
I guess almost every single Guy of my age has ate, slept and breathed cricket. More or less while playing in Neighborhood park , there would be a group of older bullies who would come much later to the ground and take possession of it immediately, irrespective of the juncture at which our match was poised. We need to move our pitch to the corner. Days or months later we challenge them for a match, We lost every time, for they were bigger, stronger and sadly better. Sometimes we came close, but always we lost. They also taught us to enjoy the smaller moments. Every wicket we took, every boundary we hit, the whole team would cheer, sing, cackle, hoot and sometimes even dance in an extremely ungainly fashion that only men can. And we did so because when you don’t have much to cheer about, it is these little moments that you make the most of.
And then one day we won. I do not know how or why, maybe they just played awfully badly, or maybe we were lucky, but we did. And I still remember the scenes of delirium. It wasn’t the World Cup, nor the ‘Ashes’, not even an official colony match, but it was our World Cup, our Ashes.
Sitting in my office, I was following match online, cheering So called Minnow’s every run in their chase against So called powerhouses. In the end they lost, and looked disappointed, but they ran them very close and one day they will beat them too. For that’s how sport is, and will always be. Cricket is a wonderful game, not just because of Warne’s wizardry or Sachin’s genius or even Wasim’s swing. It is also made beautiful by a pink haired Kavin O’ Brian who smashed Mighty England bowling attack, which ruined 3 times world’s Champion Australian dream to conquer Ashes, all over the park, and celebrated as if thay had won the World Cup. It is also made beautiful by eleven Kenyans kneeling down and kissing the pitch after beating the mighty West Indies in ’96. It becomes a better sport because it gives a war-ravaged country like Afghanistan hope and a little happiness as they notch one remarkable win after another against countries much bigger, much stronger and more fortunate. One day these minnows will beat Super powers, and they will know the joy that we knew one day in a small park in neighborhood.
