You know what's funny?

I missed the anniversary of this blog... again. Not that anyone aside from me cares, but yeah. For more than two years now, this little blog has been festering in its corner of cyberspace.

I've blogged even less this year than the previous one, and I wish I could blame my academic obligations for this, but the truth is that I'm kind of lazy, and I'm sick of ferreting opinion on cricket on the Internet - most of it is acerbic, hypocritical and completely infuriating, anyway. I just want to watch and enjoy the game - I don't give two shits if it's a Test or the IPL that I'm watching. It's all still the same damn circus, just that one form is more pretentious than the other.

So. When you visit the blog, you pretty much know what you're going to get, don't you? I make no pretensions about myself or my writing. This is pure armchair snark and fangirling - the lowest strata of cricket blogging out there, I know, and I'm perfectly happy with that. No heavily-worded tl;dr analysis over here, thank you very much.

But recently I've found that fangirling? A pretty tough thing to do, especially when it comes to cricket, because, quite clearly, it frequently hates its fans.

For one, much of cricket itself is tl;dw - it practically begs tl;dr in response. I think it's one of the things that attracted me to this sport in the first place. There is nothing I love more than rambling and ruminating and debating minutiae - and cricket lends itself rather beautifully to that purpose. There is such a wealth of time - you can dock away a whole day to watch a match and give yourself to the ebbs and flows of the game; much like well-crafted drama, a game that might have been quiescent, coasting smoothly to a seemingly pre-destined result, a single moment of brilliance and/or mediocrity - a flash of genius, a lapse in concentration - is enough to change the scenario drastically. The script's changed, folks, and there're no stage-whispers to help you. Can you improvise? Can you start a brand new story? It appeals to the romantic in me; makes me scream and curse and laugh, because, that? That is drama; that is joy.

And as long as I continue to find that joy, this blog will continue to grow.

Anniversary thingamajig

So it was when I was reading this post by Leela that I realised something very startling: it has actually been over a year since I started writing this blog (from Oct 5 '08, to be precise).

Not that I've blogged a whole lot, but still, it's been fun, y'know?

Discovered the cricketing blogosphere only July last year, where knowledgeable and entertaining perspectives were given on the game without creaking and tottering in the narrow grip of professional diplomacy.

I figured that since I had a compulsion to write about anything and everything that interested me (leading to quite a few embarrassing moments as my careless scribblings would be invariably be discovered by somebody else in the household) I might as well start one of my own. Let the snark and the fangirling flow. Being a lurker myself, I didn't expect anybody else to read this, let alone make like-minded friends, but I'm glad to have been proved wrong. :D

So... yeah. Yay me.

Addendum: Apparently the BCCI has banned the Services team from the rest of the Ranji tournament as they refused to appear for a match against J&K in Srinagar owing to 'security reasons'.

Am I the only one who burst out laughing at the irony in that one? If I'm right, 'Services' is supposed to represent the army.

Oh well.

Addendum 2: Oh, and today's the fifth ODI between Ind and Aus, in Hyderabad, if I remember right. It's been pouring cats and dogs in Chennai over the past week, let's hope the weather is kinder there.

Also also, Peter Siddle has gone home with injury, and Henriques is down too. Why oh why couldn't it have been Doug Bollinger?

Also hoping to see Tyagi instead of Ishant today. It won't happen, but I can hope.

Addendum 3: Also apparently, in the newest "Let's beautify the Marina!" wave, cricket on the Marina has been banned.

Now, I've never actually played cricket there, but I know a lot of my cousins and friends do, so I express my Obligatory Incredulous Outrage on their behalf.

Thank you.

The Agony and the Ecstasy

The last one week has been replete with epiphanies.

Most of them are of a personal sort, and all of them seem to have led me round an expansive and emotionally difficult circle and eventually I find myself exactly where I started. It’s not such a bad thing, though, and I hope I’m wiser after all that’s happened.

The one epiphany that’s relevant here happened last Sunday, as I was reading the literature on the web regarding the series win in New Zealand. It struck me suddenly just how much cricket was out there, just how much the game had been consuming precious hours of my life, and how difficult it was balancing being a medical student (which, hello, is pretty damn tough) and a cricket fan, not to mention various other social and familial commitments. An inexplicable panic started crawling up the back of my throat like some sort of insect, and I decided enough was enough.

So I tried a little experiment. I locked up my laptop at home and boldly went back to college, no TV for miles around. I knew I was missing the final ODI. I knew I was missing the first Test. I knew I had been waiting and waiting to follow this Test series, but I had to be strong, right? Priorities, priorities.

The first couple of days weren’t so bad. I still had the occasional mobile phone update, and am actually kind of glad I missed the final ODI, for obvious reasons. I still remember asking a friend in class for the score update that day, and this was how the conversation went:

ME: Score, score, score please!

FRIEND: (raising an eyebrow) Um, pardon me?

ME: (waving a futile hand in the air) Today! ODI! New Zealand! Score!

F: Oooooh. Gimme a second.

(checks on mobile phone and looks up and smiles)

F: 115 for 7.

ME: Uh... New Zealand, right?

F: (checks) Uh, no, actually. It’s India.

ME: (laughing) No, no, that’s impossible. Check that little space before the score. I’m sure it says N-Z, not I-N-D.

F: (starting to get annoyed) M--, it’s India batting. Rohit Sharma. Zaheer Khan. Partnership. LOOK.

(proceeds to thrust mobile phone screen at my face, where the letters IND 115/7 gleam
mockingly in all their digital glory)

ME: Stupid freakin’ – how in the world – what’s wrong – demonic possession – alien invasion – (fades away into incoherent muttering which may – or may not – have contained a string of profanity toward the Indian team)

But I didn’t really care about the result, which didn’t really mean anything, aside from a slightly disturbing tendency for the team to get off the boiler once the series has been won. That ain’t the stuff of truly dominating World Champions.

But the Test?

Seven different kinds of agony.

I was rather looking forward to watching this particular series, to the truly unique experience of waking up at 2:30 in the morning to watch Test cricket, tiptoeing around sleeping family members, settling down in front of the TV, blinking sleep desperately out of my eyes, smelling of mosquito-repellent cream, sipping from a mug of hot coffee in my hands. This time around, though, it was only the mobile phone updates, and the digital scores against the glowing background didn’t tell me anything. How many catches did Dhoni drop? (Only one, as I found out later. Keep at it, Mahi!) How did each four of Tendulkar’s look like? Was Dravid getting back into groove? Had somebody managed brainwash Laxman into thinking he was playing against Australia? (tough one, I know). Had the bowlers gotten their act together, or were they lucky? How was the pitch playing? Easy, or was it just the brilliance of the batsmen? How was the catching?

I knew none of the answers. To my horror, it was killing me.

So I took my first opportunity to get back home, and immediately lurched toward the laptop and the TV and was generally pleased with what I saw/read.

Sachin Tendulkar was awesome, as per usual.

Dravid... um. I’ll just shut up now. Dude, retire whenever you want to.

Schizophrenic!Munaf managed to put in a good performance, and Bhajji!! Dude, 6-63? Come on! :D

Dhoni continued to chip in with his batting, and his keeping seemed tidy for the most part. (Ha ha, go ahead and laugh at my conceit, I know I am.)

There were a couple of annoying lower-order partnerships that were allowed to build in the NZ innings, and as much as I adore Dan Vettori and the Brendon of McCullum, I’ve got to say: guys, seriously?

I am not going to make the mistake of leaving behind all this again. ‘Cause, seriously? Not worth it. What’s life if not a constant balancing act anyway?

So – 1 up in the series, with 2 Tests to go. Judging by the way they played this match, one would think anything less than a 2-0, maybe even a 3-0 win would be sacrilege, but let’s see. ‘Sides, India has never handled being overwhelming favourites well, and it’s all for India to lose from here.

Speaking of New Zealand, the Women’s World Cup concluded recently, with England winning their final against New Zealand. These two were easily the two strongest teams of the tournament, and a hearty congratulations to all of the women who were part of the final. Also, India managed to beat Australia (second time this tournament, ha!) for the third place. Which, considering that last year when the Indian women toured Australia, Karen Rolston and co. wiped the floor with them? Is pretty sweet.

...

... Oof. I need to apply for some sort of rehabilitation. Suggestions, anyone?


Addendum of EPIC DOOM: It’s happened.

The IPL cannot be held in India this year.

What the hell, people. What. The. Hell.

My immediate reaction was if the IPL can’t be held in India, then leave it. Cancel it. Holding it in another country? Hello, desperation! The primary lure of the IPL for me and so many people I know was the joy of crowding up the stadiums and the TV rooms and watch international cricket stars play some exhilarating Twenty20. For us. (In a way, you know, okay??)

If it has to be relocated, then the obvious choice would be South Africa.

But --- damn. This sucks, just so damn much.

Getting on the frontfoot

Well, there you go. First blog post - ever - and already a billion cricketing references. For those slow on the uptake, yeah, I love cricket. I've rarely played the game - I'm more of a tennis player - but watching the truckload of international cricket played every year for the past few years, and getting my admittedly sentimental, and er, romantic soul swept away by the cricket frenzy that spreads across the country so often, I've become a diehard fan. Seriously. And the eye-candy that the game generously offers also helps, yeah.

A real cricket fangirl.

A few things, though. Firstly, I'm not going to be overly technical. I can't. I can't go on about seam positions and hand grips and middle stump guards and top-spinners and crumbling pitches and such-like. What I can do, however, is offer a perspective. A reasonably knowledgable one. I don't know whether it'll be unique or any such thing, but hey, like everybody, I get opinions, and also, like everybody, I like expressing them at every possible opportunity.

Like every devoted fangirl, I manage to dock a bit of time everyday for catching up on everything cricket. One thing I have noticed about general commentary on the game is how freakin' pessimistic people seem to get while talking about the state of the game. How nostalgia seems to exude out of the computer screen and hit me like a tidal wave. Well, you know what? I'm not like that. I only started following cricket in 2003, and seriously fangirling it only from 2005. So, yeah. I don't remember the 'Tendulkar-is-our-only-God' era, or the pre-match-fixing era, or the Ganguly's-awesome-start-as-captain era. Or even much of the Great Middle Order era (though some of Dravid's innings in Australia and Pakistan still cling in my mind as vestiges of a magnificent memory). I started following the Indian team as it is HERE AND NOW. And I'm excited! (Mind you, I still have no love lost for the ICC or the BCCI. >.<)

There're a lot of things I love and hate about the game and everybody involved in it, so this blog came to life. Everything needs a start, though, and what better way to start this baby than the Australian tour of India this year? First Test starts just 3 days from now, and the hype... well, it's been magnificent. There're a lot of things that're being said, and predicted, and such-like, but the excitement this time is rather... understated. Both teams are what experts like to call 'in a state of flux' and what I'd like to call 'having their personal shitload of problems', and how they overcome that, or whether they will it all, is something nobody is sure of - not even the players themselves. So there's nothing unnecessarily acidic flying around - both countries are too busy criticising their own teams.

The imminent retirement of the Middle Order Plus Spinner-Captain, whether Badrinath gets the Opportunity, the performance of Amit Mishra and the pace attack, whether Dhoni finally gets some Big Test Innings under his belt and seals his candidature for Test captaincy as well, whether Ricky Ponting will finally find the form that always deserts him in India, whether Krejza or White turn overnight Warnes or get ripped apart at the seams by the Middle Order, the Harbhajan vs Australia fights, probable verbal spats, delicious controversy... I could go on. There is just so much to look forward to.

I love, I mean, ahem, hate cricketing cliches, but dudes, seriously. Test cricket is so alive.

... If only Bangladesh weren't getting their asses handed over to them each and every time.

I'm going to look forward to blogging about this obsession of mine. Then what's the "life" and "fantasy", you ask? They're there because they sounded good.

Seriously.