What a fine day
Every
once in a while, a day comes which makes me fall in love with the game of
cricket all over again. Thursday, July 11, 2013 was a day like that. It was a
day when a young man batted fearlessly, threw caution to the wind and played a
test match as if he was playing with his friends in his backyard. Late in the
night, a not so young man played the most amazing limited overs innings seen in
a long long time and made sane grown up people jump around and dance at 3.15 in
the morning.
These
have not been the best of times for a cricket lover. In April and May, one
found out that bookies and fixers were discussed more than cricket and cricket
teams. Board appointments were given more prominence than team selections. The
Champions Trophy was a welcome relief and the Indian performance brought a lot
of joy. But this was followed by a triangular series in West Indies whose coverage was so bad
that one often wondered if the broadcasters actually wanted you to switch off
the television and go to sleep.
Then
the Ashes arrived. Australia picked up a rookie 19 year old left arm spinner.
He bowled seven overs and looked innocuous on day one. Bad, desperate selection, one thought. Jimmy
Anderson then bowled a spell which only confirmed the long held belief that he
is the best fast bowler in the world. Australia were nine down and looking down
the barrel.
Ashton
Aggar, batting at number 11, then played such a refreshing innings, that
everybody, the opposition included, wanted him to score a hundred. Batting at
number 11, yes number 11, he made test cricket look ridiculously easy. He smashed the best fast bowler in world all
over the park, and Graeme Swann, who was supposed to gobble up left handers, was
dispatched out of the park. All this was done with a smile on the face. When he
fell on 98, scored with the enthusiasm of a school boy playing his first inter
school match with a new bat, the entire cricketing world was applauding. The
sun was shining, cricket was played in whites and everybody had a smile on
their face. Life could not be better.
But
it got better. For a few hours later, M.S. Dhoni scripted a victory that at one
stage one felt was even beyond him to achieve. Sachin Tendulkar fans will
disagree, but M.S.Dhoni is India’s greatest limited overs cricketer. The number
of impact performances and match winning efforts put him at a level much higher
than anyone else, the little master included. On Thursday night, he had the
game measured to the last possible decimal. You often wondered what MS Dhoni
was doing but in his mind he was clear on how the target was to be achieved.
One mishit, one unplayable delivery, one mix-up and it was all over. But MS
played almost the perfect innings and guided his team to an unforgettable
victory. Only Javed Miandad understood one day batting better.
When he smashed Eranga for a six to seal victory, one had to stand up and
applaud, even though it was 3.15 am.
Days
like Thursday make it worthwhile to be a sports fan. Call it paranoia,
stupidity or as my wife often says, unhealthy obsession, but there is no
greater high in the world than watching a good performance on the sports field.
There is no greater joy than watching than watching your team achieve sporting success.
Forget
sponsors, forget players, forget officials. The game is played for the fans. Sports
makes you the experience the worst kind of lows and the most incredible highs. No sporting contest is ever irrelevant
because someone somewhere is going to be happy or sad based on the result of
that contest.
With
his simplicity and boyish enthusiasm Ashton Aggar made us fall in love with
cricket again. With his absolute brilliance, M.S.Dhoni made us sing and dance
in love.
Such
days are rare.
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