That Wonderful day
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On the face of it, it was just
another day. But it actually was not.
For any Indian cricket fan, April 2, 2011 will be a day that shall never
be forgotten. There are so many memories
associated with that day. The day began with nervousness and apprehension and
ended with ultimate elation, ecstasy and infinite pride. India was expected to
win the 2011 World Cup but an Indian supporter will tell you that India never
wins when they are expected to win. But through a combination of some luck and
some very good individual performances India managed to reach the final.
Awaiting them in the final was Sri Lanka. As 2ND April arrived,
Indian fans knew that the ultimate prize was one win away.
Personally I was very nervous.
Teams and individuals that I support have never won big events. Apart from one
magical magical night in Istanbul in May 2005, Liverpool has never won anything
of note in all the years that I have supported them. Boris Becker won only one
grand slam in the phase that I followed him. My interest in Formula 1 came and
went in the years of the rivalry between Mika Hakkinen and Michael Schumacher
and Hakkinen never won much. There was a false dawn in 2003 when the Indian
cricket team reached the world cup final. That was another nervous day but it
ended with acute disappointment- a felling of emptiness. We were supposed to
hammer the Aussies- actually they hammered us. Ricky Ponting, their best player
scored 140, Sachin Tendulkar, our best player scored 4. The Aussies won their third
world cup, second in row. I was left wondering if I would ever celebrate a
major victory for my team.
Of course Istanbul 2005 happened
subsequently and then South Africa 2007 happened, but by all accounts April
2, 2011 was a very nervous day. This was our chance, I told myself. Sri Lanka
are too strong, I told myself. Sachin will score his hundredth hundred today, I
hoped. Sachin never scores runs in a final I was told. Viru will tear them apart
I thought, Murali will have grand farewell, I feared.
And then the game began. Zaheer
began brilliantly bowling three consecutive maidens. Back in 2003 Zaheer had
conceded 17 runs in his first over. “He has erased those horrid memories”, my
brother told me. Zaheer would concede 17
runs in his last over in this game. Sreesanth gave us a moment to cheer when he
bowled a delivery which was clocked at 150 KMH. Indian fast bowlers never did
that. But the rest of his spell convinced all of us that he had taken a smart
decision by entering a reality television dance competition. Bhajii and Munaf (my
man of the tournament) bowled well. But after a cautious start the Lankans
opened out. Jaywardena played an innings which in true spirit should have been
applauded by everyone but in the spirit of that day made me hate him and curse
him all the way. There was some tremendous hitting by the late order as the Lankans took control. And as
the initiative slipped away from India, that familiar sinking feeling engulfed
me. Sri Lanka made 274. No chance of chasing that in a final I thought.
Viru, who was supposed to tear
them apart fell second ball. Even DRS
could not save him. Tendulkar fell 82 short of his hundredth hundred, thereby
failing in the final. Game over. Switch off the telly- drink whiskey and be
happy that your team reached the final. But this was a different Indian team.
Out in the middle were two young Delhi lads, who apart from being very good batsman,
were fighters who never gave up. At one end was Gautam Gambhir, the most
patriotic Indian ever to play cricket. (Dedications to Jawans on the Border and
Tweets about freedom fighters an indication of that). At the other end was the
young superstar in making- Virat Kohli. Another passionate Delhi lad. Together they
punched and counter punched back.
Malinga was seen off and Murali and Randhiv attacked. They played some
great shots, ran aggressively between the wickets and sometimes abused in Hindi
as their partnership grew. Slowly, my hopes rose but then Dilshan, took a
stunning return catch to dismiss young Kohli. It was a great catch and which in
true spirit should have been applauded but ended up in me cursing him for his
brilliance. Yuvraj was supposed to come
next. That did not happen. Captain cool MS Dhoni decided to promote himself.
I should have guessed, it was all
destiny. The script has always been
written by the Gods of this world for MSD. Captain cool played an innings that
took the game away from our neighbors. The off spinners could not control him,
the fast bowlers could not restrict him and even Malinga was punished. Along
with Gautam Gambhir, he slowly took us closer to victory. Gauti, lost his head and
got bowled for 97. Pretty close to a
heart attack I was at that moment. “Needless shot” screamed Ravi Jaishankar
Shashtri on the television and I shared his sentiments with much stronger
words. Thoughts of an eminent collapse raced through my mind. To increase my
anxiety, some idiot posted some stat that no team had ever lost a world cup
final after one of its batsman had scored a hundred. Jaywardena had scored a
hundred and Gambhir had failed by three runs. Panic, Tension.
But Yuvraj strode purposefully to
the wicket and along with MS took India closer to victory. There were some mad moments. Dhoni nearly got
run out twice and there was DRS referral for an LBW appeal against Yuvi. My
opposition to DRS fell and rose significantly in those two minutes. However they survived (I survived) and when
the 48th over began India needed 7 to win. The dream was actually
turning into reality.
And then Kulasekra’s second delivery of the 48th
over was smashed by MSD over wide mid on for a huge six. “Dhoni goes big”,
screamed Ravi Jaishankar Shashtri. We were world champions. The best in the
world. Should I scream? Should I dance? Is this happening for real?
The rest of the evening was a
blur. The celebrations of the team, Kohli’s statement regarding Tendulkar,
Harbhajan and Gambhir’s interviews, they were so good to see. I was still in a
daze. Should I go out and celebrate outside, should I stay at home and hear
every single word being spoken in praise of my beloved cricket team. So many
experts were saying so many good things. There was Ian Chapell on ESPN-Star, Naseer Hussain on Headlines today,
Professor Jones on NDTV and last but not the least the master of them all, the
one and only Imran Khan on CNN-IBN. “Dhoni is currently the best captain in the
world”, the Pathan declared emphatically.
And every single Indian agreed with him. The streets were already filled
with people dancing and waving the Indian flags. But I was still confused. I
wanted to celebrate but I did not know what do. I went out on the street and
came back. Saw numerous repeat telecasts. Drank Whiskey to celebrate but it
just did not seem enough. However my hopes were fulfilled and the anxiety and
apprehension had been replaced by relief and joy.
All those memories came flooding back to me
yesterday, the second anniversary of that great win. I realized that no matter
how much I would have celebrated, it would have never seemed enough. I still
get Goosebumps watching the re-run of the final. And I still feel that I should
have celebrated more. But April 2, 2011 was such a momentous day that no matter how much I would
have celebrated it would have never seemed enough.
Such days are very rare.
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