'Tis the season of the Eye-Pee-Elle!

Disjointed post, ahoy!

1. Okay, I'm getting sick of the Dhoni-madness. I lapped it all up with much glee the first couple of days, but all the bandwagon-hopping hypocrite groupies are pissing me off. You really love the man so much? Try sticking by him when he's not winning World Cups!

2. IPL! I mean, look. I consider myself a pretty indefatigable cricket fan: keep it comin', is my motto. I'll snark, I'll groan, I'll shake my fists, but trust me, I'll make sure I follow the match somehow: TV, internet commentary, radio, mobile updates, what have you. But this time? First match was CSK v KKR, and I couldn't work up anything. I was half-asleep until the last five overs of the match. The World Cup took more out of me as a spectator than I'd expected. Huh. Who'd've thunk?

3. Speaking of the last five overs, hah. What an exercise in hilarity. But good for you, Southee. Aaaalso, I think everybody needed that cliffie. Both teams and their fans were sleepwalking till that time. All of us needed that fillip, I think. Feeling ready for the rest of the season? I think. Hopefully I'll get tickets to go to a few of the matches this time 'round.

4. I know I've been pretty critical of IPL opening ceremonies in the past, but I expected this to be better, since, you know. It's Chennai, and everything. But, no. It sucked beyond belief. I couldn't even watch it. Why?

• Too much Bollywood. I honestly expected the likes of Sivamani, Simbu, Vijay, etc, etc., to be shaking a leg out there. Not Sunidhi Chauhan and Shah Rukh friggin' Khan. WE HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF BOLLYWOOD, AND ITS STUPID, GENERIC PSEUDO-PUNJABI BEATS. IF YOU WANT A CEREMONY IN CHENNAI, YOU MIGHT TRY MAKING IT A LITTLE MORE LIKE IT'S ACTUALLY IN CHENNAI.
• What's that? SCREW "NATIONAL APPEAL". YOU WEREN'T EVEN ABLE TO ENTERTAIN THE CROWD PRESENT AT THE STADIUM, YOU FOOLS.
• Blah blah blah magic and then the obligatory Shah Rukh friggin Khan "speaking" (read: horribly dubbed) in Tamil, and dancing to the very obligatory Appadi Podu. Do you guys realise that that song is over eight years old? Man, slap a label and milk it to the very last stereotypical drop! Insulting and disappointing.
• SRK? Vijay pwns you in the dance-department. Just saying.
  
• I repeat: this is Chennai. Not pseudo-Mumbai. What a frustrating and terrible ceremony.

5. It was physically painful to see Balaji bowl for the opposition. Seriously. Love the man so damn much, and he sticks out like a sore thumb in the Sourpuss Squad, also occasionally known as the Kolkata Knightriders.

6. What the hell, Gambo. Comin' in at 6? Not one of your brighter ideas. I get it when Dhoni does it - he's played in every position in the line-up, and 6 is usually his place. But you're an opening batsman, dude. Not a slogger.

7. One of my favourite moments from last night's game was this: Gambo hits one to long-on (I think, I was still fighting sleep at the time), where Albie's fielding. Albie fumbles a bit, but he gets the throw back to Dhoni, who kinda stops the ball with his body. The ball rebounds off his gloves and dribbles behind him, so he loses sight of it. Gambo senses an opportunity and scampers for the second run. Dhoni's looking frantically for the ball, but Styris swoops down on it and throws it at the stumps with Gambo short of his crease. KKR sink further into the depths. And what happens? Even abject incompetence from Dhoni is made to look like genius. He set Gambo up for the run-out by muffing the take! seemed to squeal the commentators. Dhoni just grinned sheepishly. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

8. I love that CSK is more or less the same team as the last three seasons. How much do I love this team, you ask? Sometimes even more than the Indian team, is my answer. Chennai, the city, remains my only love in India.

9. ... And that's all she wrote. I'm back at the hospital after a break, and I am exhausted. Possibly last night's fatigue wasn't entirely due to post-World Cup hangover. Whatever.

ADDENDUM: Oh god, I'm so tired I think I'm hallucinating. I just saw Laxman hitting a six.

*reaches blearily for caffeine*

Brilliance.

I sometimes feel out of place in cricket discussions: the upstart, the young girl who's followed cricket for barely nine years, the fangirl who hero-worships Dhoni like some people hero-worship Tendulkar. They speak of several years of supporting a faltering Indian team, watching it slump and then grow and then slump again; they talk of the choking emotion in watching it move from triumph to triumph after the turn of the century. Their heroes are slowly going out, one by one, except for that one man who's been a constant fixture in Indian cricket for more than 2 decades. They talk of the '83 World Cup victory with unbridled nostalgia; in '83 my parents were still five years away from even meeting each other for the first time. This World Cup win, then, is special for them in so many ways - ways that are scattered across cyberspace, freely - but for me?

My affair with cricket started with the 2003 World Cup, when I was a giggly 12 year old who barely knew the difference between 'leg side' and 'off side'. My grandmother was - and is - the original cricket buff in the family. She religiously watches every single match that India plays - and as many other cricket matches as she can - and her enthusiasm as the '03 Cup approached rubbed off on me, more than any amount of media hype. I remember studiously cutting out the colourful World Cup match schedule from the backpage of The Hindu, laminating it, and then checking it every morning to see what match was on that day. Much of my emotional investment in the game today comes from my memories of that tournament. I whooped and I cheered and I cried. I pestered my Dad with all sorts of cricketing questions. I remember enjoying listening to Sanjay Manjrekar and Rameez Raja commentating together. I remember giggling at all the jabs at Mandira Bedi. I remember the Tarot card reading before the Ind v Kenya semifinal. I bought an India jersey just before the final and sat in front of the TV, hoping, hoping, praying. Of course, the team flopped at the final stage, but long before Tendulkar fell, Ponting blitzed an amazing century and I think we'd all come to accept that India wasn't winning this one. But hey, we said, we reached the final. That's pretty damn good, right?

At that time, it was. I religiously followed the Indian team after that. There were periods - most of 2006 - where cricket was the last thing on my mind, but for the most part, I followed the team that I believed would do it, would do it next time. I acquired a working knowledge, played backyard cricket with my brother, devoured as many cricket-related articles as I could.

In 2007, I was the hormone-ridden 16 year old who believed "Dhoni's going to win the World Cup for us this time." I was in the throes of a crush on the man, what can I say? Those dreams, of course, came crashing down pretty quickly, but it was nice while it lasted. I had a copy of the World Cup schedule - this time, it was an already-laminated copy that came free with some magazine or the other - under my pillow, so when I woke up, the first thing I'd do was check the day's match.

One of the things I remember best about the run-up to the tournament was our ability to fool ourselves. Not all was well with the team - the unceremonious ousting of Sourav Ganguly, Chappell being an unpopular coach and media-handler and PR... well, just unpopular in general, home series losses to Australia and Pakistan, a godawful tour of South Africa, where we lost everything except that Test win in Jo'burg and our first-ever Twenty20 - but we won a couple of hastily-arranged bilaterals at home against SL and WI, which of course, assured us that we could still make a fist of things. It wasn't to be, and like the '03 final, we'd (or I'd, anyway) forgiven the Indian team long before the final wickets fell against SL and Rahul Dravid's tears broke my heart. I remember feeling a kind of malicious glee as reports came in about a tournament that was poorly organised and poorly attended, a tournament that had its final end with one of the most pointless and farcical finishes in the history of the game. After all, how can a tournament that had neither India nor Pakistan even make it to the second round ever be popular? But still I told myself: we would do it, we would do it next time.

That debacle prompted me to up my cricket obsession by several levels. I followed the exploits of the team more intensely than ever before. If you ask me, I can tell you anything you want to know about India's matches in between May 2007 to December 2008. Anything. I can even quote some of the scorecards. "Religious" didn't even begin to cover it. We were beginning to lift ourselves after that disaster, and I didn't want to miss a moment. A Test series win in England, a curious, good-now, bad-now, good-again sort of 3-4 loss to Eng in the ODIs (characterised by the most atrocious fielding I have seen from the Indians ever), and then: the inaugural Twenty20 WC.

Hah, that tournament. Full of dizzy highs. The thing that I found remarkable about that tournament - more than Yuvraj's six sixes, or Irfan Pathan's performance, or RP Singh's magic with the new ball, or even Rohit Sharma's emergence - was something that happened during our tie in our first match against Pakistan, and that ridiculous(ly awesome) bowl-out we had to decide the winner. Malik had no clue what was going on; he just picked five bowlers who'd bowled the best that day, and that included the likes of Umar Gul and Asif. Dhoni? Dhoni picked Sehwag, Harbhajan and Robin Uthappa, who'd never bowled an international ball in his life, much to everybody's astonishment. Result? India win that 3-0.

Why? everybody asked Dhoni. What was the rationale? And Dhoni said: they'd been preparing for just such a scenario. The squad had divided itself into 4 groups, and during practice sessions, they would have bowl-out tournaments. So, it was easy, he said. He just picked whoever had the best record in those little tournaments. In fact, he said, Rohit Sharma, who was not in the XI in that game, had a 100% record.

That, for me, was mind-boggling. Here was a guy, just appointed captain of the team, playing a tournament in a format of the game that was still in its infancy, coming into it just days after a long, draining tour of England, with no senior players, having played just one Twenty20 till that moment, no practice matches, no coach... and he was so goddamn prepared. He was at the top of his game, he had every base covered, right from match one of his captaincy. This was a keeper, I thought, and I didn't mean his role in the side. I hoped it was a portent for great things to come.

We would do it next time. Next time.

I watched this team with a sort of open-mouthed fascination over the next year or so. The superbly entertaining, if controversial -- oh, who am I kidding, it was that entertaining because it was so controversial -- Australian tour, the CB series of awesomeness, IPL, the Asia Cup, the Mendis menace and the SL tour, the Border Gavaskar trophy, Ganguly and Kumble's retirement, the captaincy going over to Dhoni completely, the whitewash of England in the ODIs and then that magnificent Test win at Chennai-- 2008 was a fab year, and I loved every moment, cherished them. I became more involved with cricket online -- I joined various forums, I'd check out cricinfo at least once every day, I started reading blogs, and late '08, I finally created one of my own.

'09 and '10 were what I like to consider the sobering years. I didn't follow cricket as closely as I moved to my college hostel which has no TV (it's an evil hostel, I know) but I made up for it with online commentary. One of my favourite memories was listening to Sachin Tendulkar score his ODI 200 on radio a year and half ago. A long lazy afternoon, but I was sitting in front of my radio, super-tense and practically vibrating with excitement. And when Sachin hit his 200th run? I ran out into the empty corridors - everybody else was either sleeping or reading or lazing about - screaming. I knocked at doors, screamed "Sachin scored a double-century!" and hugged everybody in sight, friend or enemy.

But yeah. Those two years gave us a better idea of what this Indian team was settling into. There was failure now, interspersed with success, and people were finally beginning to realise Dhoni was human (about time!) but not dealing with it very well (which sucked). We are a lot with our heads up our asses a lot of the time - the sense of entitlement we possess is staggering, and I do not consider myself an exception. But I love this team, and I understood they had to grow on their own terms. I ranted and raved when I could, and I defended them fiercely. We can still do it, was my constant refrain.

So. This World Cup arrived. My gut feeling was India's going to win this. I told my friends until their ears had fallen off: there can't be a better opportunity for India than this. We are perfectly placed. If we don't win this, then we don't ever deserve to win the World Cup.

My previous post elaborated my feelings on India's journey in this World Cup: I felt like they were saving their best for the last. We would do it, we would do it, I chanted. And how--!

The first striking thing was the fielding. My jaw dropped open! So quick, so fast, so dedicated! Not even in the T20 WC '07 did I remember them being this sharp. Yuvraj, throwing himself around and saving boundaries like a friggin' Superman on steroids! Raina! Kohli! Gambhir! Sreesanth, Zaheer, flinging themselves near the boundary rope! My house did not have current supply for exactly the period between the 44th over and the end of the Sri Lankan innings, and apparently that was the time the Indian plans came apart. Just as well for my blood pressure that I didn't see that, then. But still -- to come out with this kind of a mindset with a billion people breathing down their necks... my heart burgeoned with fresh admiration.

The prospect of chasing 275 was an interesting one. My grandmother had given up. It's Sri Lanka's day today, she said, with a shrug of her shoulders, All fate. What can we do? But I told her to just wait and see. Unlike a lot of the fans out there, I've seen this team slug it out a lot more times than I've seen it roll over in the mud.We would do this. We would do this. We ARE doing this.

Sehwag goes first thing, but I pushed down my trepidation, swallowed it like it was a particularly large chunk of bitter medicine, and thought: Okay, Sachin. Here you go.

Here's the funny thing about Sachin Tendulkar. He has played so many matches and played with so many generations, I bet he has enough to material to fill half-a-dozen very interesting books. He also means different things to different generations. To my generation, he's the Established Hero. We were what? 7, 8 years old when he played some of his most memorable innings? Hell, I was born a whole year after he made his debut. A lot of my contemporaries idolise him, of course. But for me, he's the kind of guy who you just have to admire, but not hero-worship. I can't. I'm baffled at the Tendulkar-devotion. Maybe I didn't live his greatness; after all, when I was starting to really get into cricket, he was struggling with his tennis elbow and run of poor form. So, no. Tendulkar is not god, at least for me.

But last night? I might've thought just that.

However, he was out, and it was upto the Unscarred Generation to get us through. I like Kohli. He has attitude - shit happens is just a few notches below we are performers at a circus for my favourite candid comment from a cricketer - and he has the ability. With experience, he can be a future leader. And Gambhir. With his advances down the pitch like a rampaging anaemic bull with ADD. He was brilliant, but it was upsetting that he threw it all away on 97. More than his century, I raged, he's allowed Sri Lanka a window of opportunity. But then Yuvraj came to join Dhoni, and I sat in my living room with my grandmother - nobody else, just the two of us, sweating because neither of us dared to get up and switch on the fan lest another wicket fell - and we hoped and prayed and watched.

What can I say about Dhoni? For me, one of the sour points of this tournament was that Dhoni'd had a very average tourney with the bat. It nagged me like a particularly persistent insect at the back of my brain. But I told myself he'll come through when it matters. It seemed like a selfish thing to wish for, that Dhoni get in and play big, match-winning innings, that I rarely discussed it with anybody else. But the hope lived on in my heart.

He delivered better than I ever thought he would in the final.

To cope with all those expectations, in anticipation of the massive backlash he'd receive for his selection decisions and strategic moves if he failed, to deal with humidity and noise and chronic back pain - at one point, he looked scarily like he couldn't move another inch - to do all this with the poise and grace that has become uniquely his - no amount of 'ice' and 'cool' metaphors can do justice, sorry - and hit the winning runs with that trademark shot for six (how many times has he finished off a chase with a six for us in his career?)... wow. I salute you, Mahi. It's not like I needed another reason to hero-worship you, but you were brilliant.

Brilliance. That's all I can say. Like a thousand brightly burning suns.

I screamed during the winning moment. Not for long, though. Not even as much as I screamed for our win over Pakistan. After that, I hugged my grandmother and sat down and watched the celebrations and heard the fireworks and grinned and grinned like my face would split open. And the only thought in my head was:

We did it. We did it, this time.

Three things

1. Who in the world is Michael Beer?

I'm reminded of my up-ended jigsaw-puzzle analogy (because I'm self-obsessed like that). What's next? Warney's Sunday drinking buddy?

2. Why, thank you, Gauti. We must all bask in Ashwin's awesomeness. *basks*

(Are you listening to/reading this, CSK? You can always replace Vijay any old day, but not Ashwin! Hold on to the man and release Vijay! Come on, now!)

3. I thought I could go to the match yesterday, I really did. I had an exam in the afternoon, but once I finished that, I thought, hey, I could go home and take up my friend's offer (an open invitation to the match, because he's awesome like that).

I checked the score once the exam finished: NZ 103 all out. I rechecked after I got home: India 52/2.

Not much point in going after that.

(but it didn't rain, which I'm willing to count as a miracle, because just a week ago this city was almost drowning in a torrential downpour that lasted for more than 2 days).

Zip, Zap, Zoom

... and other such onomatopoeic expressions of 'where the hell did all that time go."

'Cause, really? I could've sworn that the Ill-Fated ODI series against Australia finished just now, and already we're in the final Test of a series against Sri Lanka, Dhoni scored his first Test century since the Stone Age (and it is a little scary when I mean that literally), everybody else is helping themselves to centuries apiece, Sreesanth, frickin' Sreesanth, back in the team and producing match-winning performances (not that, of course, I have anything against him or nothin'), India won its 100th ever Test win, and really, what?

Whatever happened to the deliciously slow build-up to Test matches, all that speculation, all that gathering of momentum. Conidering how much resources and how many brain cells are expended on each Test, you'd want to make each of them actually count, yeah?

Honestly? I can't blame Gambhir putting attending his sister's marriage before playing the third Test. After all, your sister gets married only once (hopefully).

Also, it means Murali Vijay gets to open, which, yay! I'd just spent a lot of time arguing with a friend a couple of days ago about how it was certain that Wasim Jaffer would make it ahead of Vijay -- experience, home ground, whatever -- but I'm super-happy he's gotten another chance at wearing the Test cap for India. Hopefully this time he'll get more than a couple of gritty forties and a Run-Out of Awesome.

Also? R Ashwin and Ashoke Dinda in the Twenty20 and ODI squads, leaving out Ishant Sharma. I heartily approve.

I was going to give some -- ostensibly -- deep insight about the first day of play at Mumbai, but then I came across this:



My first reaction was, "Holy hell, that's unhygienic!"

And then it all sunk in and a small part of me died inside.

Jedi Mind Tricks

I usually don't muck around much with reading a lot of match previews, which could possibly be the only reason I managed to miss this gem:

"The day before the game, we'll practice, one good hard session, and we're ready for the game," Dhoni said. "Whatever suits the team."
Dhoni took it a step further. "Mentally we are right there. When it comes to the mind it depends on what you're feeding into the mind. The mind doesn't know if it's Napier or what you're feeding. You come and say 'this is Napier', and it believes it's Napier. If you see, it's an abstract. When people say 'he's in form', nobody has seen form. It's a state of mind where you are confident and you think very positively and everything you think about, you think it's very achievable. It's about how you treat the mind. One day here, one day there doesn't really make a difference. Preparation-wise, we are up to the mark."

Give the man a chocolate, he's talking philosophy. A couple dozen. Maybe a tonne. The whole frickin' chocolate factory.

Because, this? This is gold. And I'm not being sarcastic. Honest.

(Although the repeated use of 'abstract' to me indicates a bit of Kirstenisation and Uptonisation to Dhoni's theory.)

I love the way he explains it. It's interesting, and for an armchair geek like me, a welcome departure from the redundant cliches that seem to envelop the game like a shroud. Now that the Test hasn't (isn't) gone (at) all India's way, the whole thing's open to criticism, but one can't deny that it makes some sense. A lot of things are said to be "just in the mind" and Dhoni has always stressed on mental readiness and composure to be able to face the pressures of international cricket to go along with the actual cricket, because if you're good enough to get into the national team, you're pretty freakin good, but developing a frame of mind that's able to deal with a billion plus expectations, the pressures, the attention and the tribulations? That has to be learnt anew.

I'm just wondering if Dhoni ever tried it on himself re his injury. Wonder if he thought he could go out there, and tell his mind, "I'm perfectly fine, my back's feeling great, the sights and sounds of Ranchi are all around me, and oh look! There's my neighbour's son coming in to bowl as usual. Wonder when he dyed his hair blond."

OH that explains it all! Poor thing wasn't able to make the mantra work on the morning of the first day, it would seem.

DHONI'S MIND: I'm perfectly fine, my back...
DHONI'S BODY: Enough.
DHONI'S MIND: ... feeling gr-- Huh?
DHONI'S BODY: Enough.
DHONI'S MIND: Enough what, exactly?
DHONI'S BODY: Are we even connected anymore these days? Wake up, smell the coffee. It's cold, it's windy. That's a six foot blond New Zealander barelling in to get us out, and the back--
DHONI'S MIND: Bother me not with these trifles. I still have to ponder upon the Meaning of Life after this, you know.
DHONI'S BODY: ... suit yourself.
DHONI: ack! *spasm*

Yep, that's definitely what happened.

(Inspired by the decidedly funnier kroki-refur)

Now. Regarding the match itself? Finally a day where India get their butts into it, with Dravid and Gambhir and later Gambhir and Tendulkar digging and sprouting roots and growing leaves. Oh, and they batted a bit in between, too. I think Tendulkar did, anyway.

Four days in and we have not acted like one of the world's best Test sides. If the catching and fielding (Yuvraj + slip = DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT) let the team down after whittling NZ down to 23/3 in the first innings and allowed the Black Caps to post 619 (*gasp!*) on the board, the batting decided to complete the job and got bowled out for 305, after which the NZers ask us to follow on. Yes, quite a bitchslap to the face that must've been for a team that beat the same opposition like flicking a speck of dust out of its eye a week ago and was expected to do the same here. (mild irritation, but nothing at all harmful)

I cannot possibly comment on Sehwag's captaincy, not having seen the match live myself, but sending Ishant in as nightwatchman in the first innings? Not one of his brighter ideas.

Leaving aside Sehwag getting out early (again) the Indians are chugging along okay enough in the follow-on innings, with Gambhir reaching his first overseas Test century off 260-odd balls, at a strike rate in the mid-30s. If you thought that was slow, I took a look at Dravid's strike rate: 28. Yeowch. Still, it's all for the team, right? Incredibly important innings, if and when we go on to draw this.

The NZers have done great, they really have. The batting rode on terrific innings from Ryder and Taylor to post 600+, and the bowlers have been disciplined, tireless and for the first time in a long time, backed up by a truckload of runs from their batsmen.

Tomorrow could be an interesting day. India still trail by 62 runs, 8 wickets in hand, Gambhir and Tendulkar looking comfortable (enough) at the crease, all this points to a draw, but who knows? A collapse, a tiny target-chase, an innings defeat, even?

Also? I kinda whooped and cheered when Dinesh Kaarthick got out for single-figures in the first innings. Does that make me a bad person?

Bee-yoo-ti-full stuff!

... Okay. So I spent the last few minutes of the match trying to come up with a witty name for the ecstatic, puppy-on-a-high blog post I was going to write, but in that cycle-gap between the end of the match and the presentation ceremony, Radhakrishnan Sreenivasan, cricket anchor for Neo Sports for as long as I can remember, made up my mind for me: "Bee-yoo-ti-full" he said. The game, the win, the venue, it was all simply bee-yoo-ti-full. He reminded me of a little kid caught in a stuffy suit in a boring studio with a boring-er Javagal Srinath and Dilip Vengsarkar (dude, wasn't he a selector, like, four months ago? No time to waste when it comes to making easy money) who wanted nothing more than to jump about and hoot and dance and scream. His voice trembled on the 'sensational's, his breathy 'phenomenal's had me raise my eyebrows, partly amused, partly wary. I love the guy's enthusiasm, despair for his obviously-wide but sparingly used vocabulary ("at this... point in time...") but honestly? I'm missing Harsha Bhogle. Now there's a guy who knows how to be enthusiastic about the game without sounding young. Plus, he uses the most delicious metaphors. The writer in me loves listening to his commentary.


... But I digress.


So we won the fourth ODI. Yay.


I'm not going to talk through the match, since I didn't see it live throughout, but apparently India won the toss (again, despite Dhoni changing his call out of some vague pity for Mahela) and elected to bat. Before this match, Dhoni had talked very clearly about how the team intended to try out the reserves, having the series won already. I assumed he would rest one of the centurions of the previous game (presumably Yuvraj), Zaheer Khan and possibly Yusuf Pathan, and replace them with Rohit Sharma, Irfan and Balaji. What I did not expect to see was Sachin's name missing from the XI, to make way for Rohit. Zaheer was rested to accomodate Irfan Pathan, and that was all the changes that were made to the team. Confusing, because I'd expected Sachin raring to go out and play and prove that it'd take more than a bunch of incompetent umpires to bring him down.

Plus, Balaji didn't get to play. Dhoni being Dhoni, escapes my wrath. Just about. Although, MS? He'd better be part of the XI on Sunday. Or... or.... I don't know. I just want to see Balaji play again and feel happy about it 'kay? 'Kay.

The batting performance seemed like a photographic negative of the previous one's. Sehwag, Yuvraj and Yusuf Pathan, who had contributed to the bulk of the scoring on Tuesday, fell cheaply today, while Gambhir, Dhoni and Raina, who weren't substantial last time 'round, had a field day today.

I must admit I was both ecstatic and a little surprised to see Dhoni walk in at number three. Ecstatic because it's been such a long time since I've seen him bat at that position and play a long innings, surprised because it eventually forced Rohit Sharma too low down the order to have any substantial time at the crease - which I thought had the been the point of the whole 'giving the reserves a chance' exercise.

Oh well.

After Sehwag fell early, Dhoni and Gambhir had a huge 188 run partnership for the third wicket - not the first time they're involved in Huge Partnerships of Doom, and certainly not the last - involving some intelligent running straight out of the top drawer, and some lusty hitting toward the end. I know I've complained about the apparent disappearance of the old hard-hitting Dhoni and this was a refreshing reassurance to not only us, but also his IPL bosses. I prayed and hoped for a Dhoni century, and was coming home from college when he was in his 90s. I was barely minutes from the nearest TV when the friend accompanying me received a text informing us that Dhoni had just gotten out for 94. Unfortunately, she told me immediately with an infuriatingly smug grin on her face (she'd been taunting me about the very possibility throughout the hour-long bus ride) and I saw red and boxed her ear and spent the rest of the Indian innings apologising and grovelling (what have you done to me, Dhoni).

Gambhir put up yet another huge score, Raina smashed 49 valuable runs at the end. Gambhir became the 503rd record-breaking wicket for Muralitharan, and although the immediate celebrations were muted because of the sorry position Sri Lanka were in at that stage of the match, it is nothing short of a fantastic acheivement. Muttiah Muralitharan is now the highest wicket-taker in Tests and ODIs, with an astonishing total of 1272 international wickets, and that, at the end of the day, proved to be Sri Lanka's sole reason to celebrate that night.

Praveen and Irfan opened the bowling as India proceeded to defend the 332/5 that they had scored. Praveen bowled tidily enough, but Irfan was simply ripped apart by both Jayasuriya and Dilshan. He finally did get Sanath's wicket, and his first spell figures went something like this: 5-0-45-1. Yeowch. There were parts in the early stages of the Sri Lankan reply when Irfan was being carted around that my gut twisted in trepidation and the sandwich I was eating moved almost warily toward my gullet, like a gate-crasher about to be thrown out by an angry host. I'm not sure why we're even persisting with Irfan anymore. I can't remember the last time he had a good ODI with the national team. If you're gonna nurture him as someone to come up in a say, Andrew Flintoff mould, you might as well give him proper opportunities, not just let him tag along, refusing to let go of something precious that you already spoiled beyond recognition a few years back.

Dilshan left playing the mother of all Stupid and Irresponsible Shots, and although Jayawardene and Sangakkara threatened briefly, the spinners came in and tied down the Sri Lankans so much they were never able to recover - Pragyan Ohja in particular bowled beautifully and the left arm spinner deserved more wickets in his eventually tally of 1 for 34 - and eventually folded up for 265, 67 runs short of the Indian total. There was a brief disruption in play as Dhoni led his team off the field in the middle after someone in the crowd apparently threw stones at Indian fielders fielding in the deep. Not the first time there've been similar complaints of crowd trouble on this tour, and it is most surprising and mildly disturbing, as Sri Lanka has always been touted as a great place to watch and play cricket.

And so the Indians completed a record 9th consecutive win, under Dhoni's captaincy. I love that this team shows no complacency and goes from match to match with the same insatiable thirst for runs, wickets, and eventually victory, the intensity and energy never flagging. Keep it going, guys!

Bee-yoo-ti-full times, indeed.

Draw-ing the year to a close

Ahem, ignore lameness of title, kplzthnx.

Yeah, so the second Test match at Mohali ended in a tame, plodding draw, and yeah these 'farcical finishes' don't help the already-dwindling stadium attendances (uh, really?), the negative stuff 'kills the spirit of the game' (seriously?), and blah, blah, blah, but guess what made it worth it ALL? The moment where the plodding-along-knowing-the-result-anyway became a prelude to the BEST moment of the match??

Dhoni taking the ball to bowl the last over of the match.

Call me insane if you like, I'd've paid through my frickin' nose to watch him bowl (except it'd be mucous-covered and stuff, cos I'm so ill I don't know how I'm typing this crap).

All the inanity and Dhoni-Love aside, this Test ended with not much to go with it - except for the Dravid Comeback and Gambo scoring his usual truckload - and the over-snipping at the beginning and end of every day didn't help matters. India had a real chance of winning yesterday, though, rolling over England's last four for barely 20 runs in the morning. For some reason they indulged in a tortuous plod that did nobody any good - least of all the batsmen themselves, as two of them even got run-out (well, who asked you to go at 2 an over in the first place?), and by the time Yuvraj Singh came in toward the end of day 4 and started smacking the ball around (like I'd freakin expected the rest of them to, well, okay, not Dravid, but still) the match had already been killed - like had a stake driven through its metaphorical heart, players metaphorically dancing in its metaphorical blood, repeatedly flaying its metaphorical corpse, while not-so-metaphorically scoring more runs and damn if I'm not tired of metaphors by now. Yuvraj and Gambo entertained for a bit in the morning (ha ha, I came the closest I'd ever come to liking Yuvraj when he hit Prior - unintentional, yeah, but I loved it) then got out within a few runs of their centuries leaving several people (not least their generous declaration-delaying captain) rolling their eyes.

And then! England came and had some televised batting practice before the Moment of the Match happened, and then it was all handshakes and presentations and stuff (Zaheer Khan got the man of the series, by the way, and that was a pleasant surprise).

India win the series 1-0. I'm actually kinda disappointed Dhoni's 100% win record had to end. I'm spoilt, I say! Spoilt!

So the Indians wanted to make sure they could hold on to their 1-0 lead and not draw the series 1-1 in a bout of foolish bravado, sure, that's perfectly justified, but still. Like I said before: two Test series? Me no likey. This could've made for a wonderful five match series.

It's kind of disappointing for England to go home with absolutely no silverware at all, because they actually performed extremely well in the Tests - considering they'd been steamrollered in the ODIs and the disturbances and uncertainty that came in between. They don't deserve going home without even a single win to their name, to be fair, but India made sure it won the moments that mattered, while England floundered. (Plus, we have Dhoni. Unfair advantage much?)

So! All in all? A tame end to a frickin awesome year for the Indian team (other than the whole being decimated in Sri Lanka and the Asia Cup final by Mendis part, and oh, the infamous Ahmedabad Massacre by the Saffers), and I would so say more about this, except I'm worn out by illness and exams and stuff (kinda why the post is crazier than usual), so I'll spare the torture.

Oh, and a Merry Christmas to the precious few who actually happen to read this blog (I love you all, I do).

Oh, oh, oh, and!!!!

.... I... I... there're no words. Just.... just none. *dies*

Yum, Test Cricket

It's been an interesting couple of days at Mohali.

Even as I type, Kevin Pietersen and Andrew Flintoff are doggedly extending their big stand for the fifth wicket, trying to up the tempo even while Zaheer Khan and co try to strangulate the hitherto impressive run-rate and I keep rolling my eyes and my conscience is hitting me with a white-hot poker to focus on reading for yet another Exam of Doom.

... But. Let's start at the beginning, 'kay?

So Rahul Dravid made hundreds of cricket fans around the world very, very happy by finally notching up a century. I've kind of forgotten what a typical Rahul Dravid century looks like, but experts claim that the 136 he scored was close enough, so I'm happy for him. To pull something like this while going through an extended and particularly horrendous run of poor form, is more than commendable. He and Gambhir (who put on 179 awesome runs himself), got in a mammoth 314 for the second wicket, even though the run-rate was crawl-worthy. The others came in and tried to force the pace, and perished for it - thanks to some tight and wonderful bowling from Flintoff and Swann. Still - ending up with 453 is pretty good, so.

Beginning of the 3rd day, and England start their innings. More like India start their bowling stint - and how! Zaheer Khan has Strauss captured leg before off the very second ball of the day, while Ishant Sharma - off the very first ball of the next over - makes a mess of the middle stump behind a very befuddled Ian Bell. 2/2, the scoreboard read, and I thought I would jump up and start singing (until, of course, I actually did jump up and sing... >.>)

KP and the insanely hot (what? He is!) Alastair Cook got together and through a period of some brilliant, positive batting, had notched up 100-odd runs in no time. To see England go at more than 4 an over while India had crawled at barely 3 in their innings had me disconcerted, I must admit (um, didn't the script usually read the other way round?) but soon we had snagged both Cook and Collingwood and the scoreboard read a precarious 131/4.

Enter Flintoff. I didn't celebrate.

And with good reason.

Still. An entertaining contest, what? India still distinctly on top - unless they get their butts moving and pick up a flurry of wickets, this match is likely to end in a draw. Plus, with all the delays and cuts in overs coming due to fog and the winter and the poor light? A draw's loomin' large.

But. You never know.

In my previous post, to illustrate the vagaries of this wonderful game, I had pointed to South Africa's 1st innings collapse from a good position in their 1st Test against Australia. Now, though? Now, take a look at the scorecard. It goes "South Africa win by 6 wickets" and you are tempted to go "what the hell" right? I was.

Turns out SA chased down 414 with centuries from Smith and deVilliers.

Losing just 4 wickets.

In WACA, Perth.

Against Australia.

HA HA. Post-McGrath&Warne is starting to bite Ponting's rear, hard, you may say.

I agree.

But still. Australia had SA all over the place for so much of the Test. They seemed so sure to win. I'm not sure I'm old enough to bet, but I was willing to put all my meagre pocket-money on it. What did the Saffers do? Why, go and pull of the second-highest run-chase in recorded Test history, that's what.

Coming on the heels of a equally spectacular chase coming in eerily similar circumstances pulled off by India in Chennai, it was just so wonderful to take in. Teams need not worry anymore, huh? You can be crap in the first three days, but you're still good enough to win - and win comfortably, spectacularly.

Just awesome.

Now Australia are struggling. The statement brings alarming joy.

What a selection of Tests we've had this year. Quite delicious.

That reminds me of an incident at college the other day. I was talking to somebody about the England-India Tests, before a curious friend overheard and asked me what score I was quoting. I told her, and her face pulled into a spectacularly exaggerated expression of disgust. "Test match?" she said. "Please. I'm not interested if it's not an ODI or T20." I thought of disagreeing, but just shrugged and went away. A couple of hours later she sidled up next to me in class and whispered frantically for the score. Not wasting the opportunity to ram in my point, I refused to tell her ("It's only a Test match like you said, right?"), until she was practically eating out of my hand at the end of the day.

Ha ha ha. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.

Grind away, boys (or, you know, don't)

Day 1 at Mohali, and the proverbial Northern Winter (proverbial cos the most North I've ever been to is Hyderabad. Or Goa. Whichever is Northier. >.>) meant that only 71 overs were bowled because of poor light. A delay in the morning, and then a premature end to the day as well.

So. India wins toss, elects to bat, great. What's not so great? Lord Viru falling for a duck - to Stuart Broad, come on, Viru! - in the second over. Enter the out-of-form (Like I said, understatements) Dravid, and the Indian fan could've been forgiven the moment of pursed lip and furrowed brow.

Gambhir continued in full flow, anyhow - if a little slower than usual - and at the end of the day had notched up yet another Test century. Keep it going, Gambo!

And Rahul Dravid, contrary to popular expectation, did not get out for a single digit figure, and his paint-drying-on-a-wall journey through the vast realm of double-digit figures continues unchecked. He stands at 63*, Gauti at 106*, while India finished the day at a fairly strong 179/1.

Snark aside, it's great to have Dravid sticking it out there and backing up Gauti. He's made sure his captain's continued faith in him in spite of all the calls for him to be dropped down the order or from the team altogether, has not gone entirely misplaced. That merely reinforces my opinion that he ought to call quits after this Test, however. However, who am I to say anything? It's all upto the man. (On a sidenote, am I the only person who hates the nickname "The Wall"? Dude, it's not nice, it's just insulting and provides too many opportunities for lame puns - the next person who says the "wall is crumbling" gets a brickbat from my direction. Just saying.)

I don't see any of the upcoming days providing 90 overs worth of cricket, but let's see what happens. On the batting front, India look to be well backed-up with Sachin, Laxman, Yuvraj, Dhoni, Bhajji to come, all of them in rollicking form. But then again, as the ongoing match between the Saffers and the Aussies - where the Saffers collapsed from 234/3 to 243/8 - proved, you never know. Or as my grandmother likes to carefully enunciate, "cricket is a game of chance, ma". *grins*

All in all, it's one of those days I'm glad I'm not actually watching the cricket being played, and only catching the odd update and reading the commentary later. It's a great position to be in, but watching Dravid stagnate would've seriously frayed, cut, steamed, boiled, ingested, digested and excreted every last nerve in my body.

Uh, seriously.

Of the Unexpected and Hope (and sixes)

Lord Viru hath spoken.

India have a chance of winning this.

131/1 at the end of day 4, Gauti and Rahul at the crease, 256 runs more to get. A much happier position that what I had envisioned.

Why? Because Virender Sehwag came out, saw and freaking conquered for 83 highly entertaining runs in a high-octane 117 run partnership with his favourite partner, nonchalantly spanking all and sundry (so okay, maybe he didn't have quite as much success with Flintoff) to all ends of the park, sparking remarks about whether he wanted to finish the game that session itself. Some really good things last, fantastic things don't - so this innings finished 17 runs of a century, trapped in front by Swann. But who cares about centuries? Sehwag did exactly what he was supposed to and wanted to do - blaze a path for the others to follow. Let's just hope they do.

India in a position where they could possibly push for a win. Who'd've thunk it.

I briefly balked at seeing Dravid at number three, but I'm going to keep aside all reservations and hope that he comes good, and retires after this series on a high.

I would say more, but I'm swamped, and will possibly more eloquent on Tuesday.