Oh
yeah.
Despite everything, did I ever stop watching the IPL? Nosiree. Anything that has "Chennai" tagged on to it should be the best, and wow, were we ever
awesome. Halfway through the tournament, only thick-skinned optimists (such as yours truly) hoped they would reach the semifinals. I ventured a belligerent "they could even
win, you know", only to take it back almost immediately with an apologetic grimace.
But CSK,
man.
Perhaps one of the most gratifying things about watching the IPL was that, despite the fracas going on in the background, and all the jabbering about Twenty20 as a flashy chip of paint off the strong and proud edifice of cricket (listen to me gag... or not), the players (the ones who mattered anyway) took it seriously. There is some payoff to all the nights I spent up, all the emotion, and all the time I invested, when I see someone like Dhoni literally
punch his face in intense emotion after winning
that game, after practically pummelling his team into the semifinals from an impossible situation. From seeing someone like Sachin Tendulkar (been there, done that, bought half-a-million T shirts-
Sachin Tendulkar) risk worsening his injured hand just so he could play the final for the MI. To hear from both captains what the game meant to them in the post-match ceremony. As long as we can get commitment like that from the dudes that matter, the twenty-two dudes on the field, then I am willing to ignore pretty much everything else. I will remember the IPL for that emotion, and will continue watching it for the same.
Not to mention opening my eyes to the potential of quite a few players - Ashwin (who I was delighted to find lives in the same area of the city that I do,
and is a super-smart school-topper-college-graduate), and, of course, Dougie Bollinger, who may be the Awesomest Person that ever Awesomed.
After that, the Twenty20 World Cup. I watched India's league matches, and assured by Raina's Century of Awesomeness against South Africa, I left for the US the night before we officially started our Super Eight campaign. For weeks I had no clue about what was going on in the tournament, as all the US papers were interested in talking about was baseball, some dude called LeBron James who was making some other dudes in Cleveland
very angry, with little by-notes informing the presumably disinterested audience about the happenings in the world of tennis. I was finally able to find a paper that was published exclusively for NRIs, and even in that, buried somewhere in the back-pages was an article titled "England win World Twenty20" followed by a grinning Paul Collingwood holding up the trophy.
If you were anywhere in Southwestern Texas at that time in Mid-May, you might have heard my resounding cry of "
England won a world title??!!"
(Seriously, people. I'm sorry. I'm still thinking the whole thing is some kind of cheese-induced dream. And USA eats a lot of cheese.)
((...
England?... ))
Not that I expected India to win the title, or anything - although I'd hoped they would - but I'd placed even Zimbabwe with a higher chance of getting the trophy than England. Cha, now
there's a perfect record permanently marred (Jokes apart, congratulations to the English team, who now suddenly seem to be in the form of their life - although even that is not enough to provide immunity to the Loss to Bangladesh Out Of The Blue Syndrome).
However! I did not see 90% of the tournament, so I have no further opinion on it. But what's a blog without shameless pandering of opinion, right? So let me tell you of what I did see that May.
The U S of A. It was an interesting trip, and I have a few observations:
1. It is
huge. And I mean, HUGE. It crosses three different time-zones, which is kind of a bother when you're trying to cover as much as you can in as little time as possible. It is not fun to keep adjusting clock every other day, and oh, the jet lag?
Unforgiving. (there is a trememdous amount of flying to be done. I, for instance, took
thirteen flights within the US. My spine hasn't forgiven me since.)
2. As huge as it is, there is very, very little in between. Most people live in suburbs that are several kilometres away from the hub of the city, which means taking out the car and going for a long drive just to shop for groceries. Or clothes. Or go to school. This is completely weird, at least to me, because Indian cities like to fold on top of themselves, rather than really spread. I can't walk more than a few metres from my home without hitting several dozen shops catering to your every possible need squeezed together and spilling onto the pavement; a bus terminus and an MRTS terminus a few roads over; a hospital, and no less than
three different schools.
3. Speaking of: the cars. There are just so many of them. Even high school kids. Except in a few select areas, public transport seems to be a near non-entity. Which, again, weirded me out, because, hey. For all our faults, we at least have an extensive public transport system.
4. There is a strange kind of beauty to the vastness, too: the climates and the surroundings change from place to place -- you might be in the scorching (well, compared to Chennai, rather pleasant, I thought, and cackled in mad glee that I was conveniently missing the worst of the Chennai summer) heat of the Nevada desert; another day in chill, windy New York; another day driving through Idaho and Wyoming where the land seems to hug the sky in a spectacular union of clouds, mountains, sleet and rain.
5. You really have to admire the American tradition of preserving and promoting their natural heritage. A visit to a National Park there is an exhilarating experience. I visited the Niagara Falls, Yellowstone Park - and it
snowed! - and the Grand Canyon, some of the most breath-taking things I've ever seen, or ever will see.
6. They eat. A lot. Practically everything available there is super-sized. I ate the largest slice of pizza I'd ever had in my life (took pictures and everything before I took my first bite, too) and had the pizza guy tell me it was medium-sized.
Medium-sized! Coffee, cheese, sugar, chocolate abound. McDonald's. Arby's. Wendy's. Subway. All just a few metres apart, literally, and so
cheap; it occurred to me just how
easy it would be to lose yourself in the food, how easy it would be to put a welcome sign on yourself to conditions ranging from atherosclerosis to stroke.
7. American Born Desis have the weirdest conceptions about India. First off, an almost Pavlovian reaction of supreme disdain to anything Indian (a muted version of which you can detect in their immigrant parents). Secondly, a habit of ending sentences with, "...oh, do they have that in India yet? Do they allow that in India yet?" (Because we're obviously Timbuktu circa 1845.) Thirdly, some of the weirdest theories. Writing papers about our infamous fairness creams ads, wherein our "obsession with fairness was
obviously a consequence of the inferiority complex we still suffer from due to the centuries of subjugation by the British". Pop!Sociology, I have found your messiahs.
8. Faux-politeness. "Good Morning, how are we today?" "Fine, thank you" seems to be the traditional greeting there. Shop attendants. Airport security officials. Random people on the street.
Everywhere. They go, "oh, I like your shirt; just where
did you get that design?" and I'm sort of dumbstruck, because that's a complete stranger I'm just
passing by, and we're just so unused to such manners from all quarters that it's doubly frustrating to come back to India and face people who obviously fell asleep when road rules were being taught; who spit at your feet and give you hostile glares if you so much as make a request for them to move so you can walk past. The politeness is all a facade - on a level, you're aware of that and it's disturbing, but still.
9. ... and that's all she wrote. About the USA, anyway.
Because, cricket? Right, cricket.
I saw some of the Fateful Zimbabwe Tour. Mr. Srikkanth, were you really kidding us? You think you could just slap on India colours to a bunch of IPL successes (Manpreet Gony and Yusuf Pathan ought to have provided sufficient deterrent to
that method of selection by now) and they'll be all "look at our youth power! we're totally ready to fill in full time roles in the national team!"? Personally, they played like India A's second reserve team in an off-season. Cha.
I did see the Asia Cup. The India-Pakistan game did restore some of my faith in the game, and 'sides, I had a good time speculating about Obviously-Alternate-Universe-Century-Hitting Shahid Afridi. Our ODI team is just not looking settled: batsmen seem to be okay, apart from Sehwag busting his shoulder every other day, Yuvraj's happily feeding and twittering away, Rohit Sharma is the absolute worst excuse for an international cricketer I have ever seen. Our all-rounders are Yusuf Pathan and Ravindra Jadeja, an unenviable choice. I have no idea what's our bowling attack any more, except that it's Zaheer Khan, et. al.
But what's ZK now? A pretty, pretty princess that keeps falling on some pea practically every other week, missing important series just when she's working herself upto some real bowling form. And of
course, he
had to go to Jo'burg for rehab. And he even mentioned something about catching the football wc final there! I swear I saw
red.
Also, just a word here: Mr. Haigh's
rant raised quite a few hackles, but I just laughed and laughed, because as soon as I read it I was reminded of this:
And now? The Test series v Sri Lanka to look forward to, followed by ODI series no. 87678 between India and Lanka (with NZ making a guest appearance.
Gawd.)
Will we win? Will Mahendra Singh Dhoni's marriage affect his performance? Will it affect his
team's performance? Will it create more fissures in an already cracked team? Will India be able to exorcise the ghosts of 2008? Will Sreesanth ever get to bowl again for India?
Will Ishant Sharma ever get a proper haircut?
As Arnab Goswami's dulcet tones discuss these burning issues, I will turn off the TV till July 18, and I will hum, "
When I get older, I will be stronger..."
Because I
can.
(Also, I dedicate this post to my best friend, A, for nagging, encouraging, and prodding me back to blogging. Love you and hope you like. :D)
