A fan recalls how Virender Sehwag and Zaheer Khan contributed to some of his best childhood memories
I was told by my mother that as a very small child I used to detest cricket. I didn't allow my parents to watch matches, frequently creating a ruckus and forcing them to change to some channel telecasting some cartoons, which I'm not sure I even understood.
But all that changed with the 2003 World Cup – the time I began watching cricket, the time I began falling in love with the game. And it was obviously at this time that I learnt the names of most Indian cricketers (apart from the very popular Sachin Tendulkar, Sourav Ganguly and Rahul Dravid). I started to fall madly in love with the sport that my parents now wanted me to stop watching cricket. Different situations demand reactions; I learnt that then. But this is not the space for such philosophy.
It was the Super Six game against New Zealand, supposedly a very tough team to beat and also the side that had embarrassed the Indian team just before the World Cup. That match was when I first took notice of the left arm seamer named Zaheer Khan. He dismissed Craig McMillan in just the second ball of the match and that set the tone for the rest of the afternoon as New Zealand were bowled out for 146.
Zaheer was announced Player of the Match, and another cricketer's name was etched permanently in the mind of a nine-year-old. On the fateful night of 23rd March 2003, when I was hoping and praying that we beat those all conquering Aussies, the same Zaheer Khan leaked 15 runs of the first over & 67 runs in the seven overs he bowled.
As we began chasing the huge target and the batsmen that had performed throughout the tournament began falling apart one by one, one little man still continued bludgeoning the bowlers. This little man was not Sachin, but it was his opening partner Virender Sehwag. And when his resistance finally ended with a run-out, all hopes of winning the World Cup had died.
However, Zaheer and Sehwag continued creating memories in my mind, either in the form of their performances in live matches or the highlights of matches that were played during days before my tryst with cricket had begun.
India toured Australia towards the end of 2003 and I'd already become a full-fledged cricket fan. This was undoubtedly going to be a mouth-watering contest. Ganguly scored a century at Brisbane, but not before Zaheer had picked up a five-wicket haul.
Dravid outplayed every other cricketer on the field at Adelaide, but at the end of the match I was intrigued by the fact that Sehwag had scored exactly the same number of runs in both innings - 47. We lost the match at Melbourne, bowled out for 366 in the first innings. Sehwag had scored 195 of them, dismissed trying to send the ball sailing over the fence.
Test Cricket was always about batsmen taking it slow, letting the good deliveries pass by and punishing the bad ones. But here was a batsman who didn't play anything like that; someone who played by his own terms. Australian stalwart Adam Gilchrist is credited as the man who revolutionised the role of a wicketkeeper-batsman. Sehwag was the man who revolutionized the role of a Test opener.
His stroke of madness was beautiful. Who else would have the courage and sheer audacity to bring up the country's first triple hundred with a six. But that was not the only way he knew how to bat. The same Sehwag who scored 284 runs in a single day of a Test Match scored 151 in a display of uncharacteristic slow batting in testing conditions at Adelaide, to save the match.
While Sehwag was making scoring big centuries a habit, Zaheer had to regularly work hard to maintain his place in the side whenever he returned from injuries (and that happened quite often). After bursting into the cricketing scene as a young, fiery pace bowler with deadly, toe-crunching yorkers, he had to settle down with lower pace with age catching up with him and injuries taking a toll on his body.
However, that didn’t deter a champion like Zaheer. Using all his experience, his variations, he became the bowling spearhead that the Indian side badly needed. Batsmen found runs hard to come by off his bowling, wickets fell regularly, and Zaheer especially loved bowling to Southpaws. Ask Graeme Smith and he'll have a word or two to tell about that.
Memories of Zaheer troubling the English batsmen during India's tour of England in 2007 are still fresh in my mind. But that might also be because that whole Test series is still fresh in my memory. How can I forget a series in which the only Indian to score a century was Anil Kumble.
The greatest feather in Zaheer's cap would undoubtedly be the 2011 World Cup. From turning around the match against England at Bangalore with those reverse swinging yorkers till ending up as the highest wicket-taker of the tournament, Zaheer proved to be a world-class performer.
But when he came on to bowl the first over of the final, it gave me jitters. Memories of the 2003 World Cup final were still at the back of my head, and surely at the back of Zaheer's. When Zaheer had finished his first spell his figures read – 5 overs, 3 maidens, 6 runs, 1 wicket – Zaheer had grown, I sighed in relief.
The two legends announced their retirement from international cricket earlier this month and the tributes from fellow cricketers and fans alike are continuing to pour in. There is one thing I've realised. Of all those names I tried learning as a 9-year-old kid, a very negligible number still remain, either fighting on the fringes, or completely sidelined, or playing second fiddle to some younger cricketer.
Amidst the struggle to complete my degree and find a suitable job, when I hear about the retirements of these cricketers, I realise that my childhood is all but over. Thank You Sehwag and Zaheer, for providing an integral contribution towards making my childhood awesome. So long!