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The survival of the passionate: A journey to bring back cricket

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Seated on the unstable chair in the barely-there dressing room in Bombay, a young player waited. As his team-mates were creating and recreating history, he patiently looked on. Impatient to climb down the flight of stairs that would take him towards the crease and his dream, he walked off to the nets on an adjacent ground to perfect his shots before his chance finally arrived.

He was meant to be the next player in and it was but natural that the wave of excitement was sky-high. He would peep through the irregular fencing in between the bowler’s follow-through and his run-up to see whether one of two batsmen batting had been dismissed on the ground he had left behind. Nope, no luck! Sachin Tendulkar and Vinod Kambli were in fine form in the semi-finals of the Harris Shield tournament for Shardashram Vidya Mandir and as the world around applauded the historical partnership of 664 runs, the young boy who had barely taken off his pads in anticipation, continued to wait for his moment in the sun.

Not much has changed since the sunny morning of 1988. Players arrived and players left. His team-mates broke records and went on to play for their nation. Standing aloof on the adjacent net, prying into the glamorous world ahead, Amol Muzumdar continues to wait.

***

The yelling and the silent murmurs in the lavish banquet hall of the 5-star hotel refuse to die down. In between the loud cry of a name announced and the quick discussions that hasten around the eight tables assembled, heart-beats and the dreary knots in the stomach reach a crescendo. Huddled around a small television in the unkempt one-BHK room, the process of waiting seems an arduous one indeed.

Amidst the play between the hammer and the placards, yet-to-be-established cricketers wait for the moment when they too would be a topic of much intense debate in the Indian Premier League auctions, just like the international stars. It is a long way ahead, but somewhere they all know that the step towards glory begins at this very stage.

And so they wait. For their names to be called out. For an interested team that would want to avail their services. For a bidding war to commence and to see their base price multiply by hundreds. For the sound of the hammer against the wooden podium that will finally pronounce them sold.

But the journey has already begun months before D-Day is upon them. Young players clobbered in a squad have viewed the international stars with dreamy eyes and visions. It is no secret, they want to be rise above the ordinary and stake a place amongst the elite. They follow their corky hairstyles and their panache for tattoos. They realise the importance of a toned body; a bulging bicep and a perfect set of abs. The gym is frequented for hours. The lapses around the field are completed in minutes and the diet is strictly adhered to. With Virat Kohli stressing on the importance of fitness and it being a benchmark to gain an entry into the side, hordes of young aspirants ply to do just that.

Far away from the crowd, a middle-aged player is seen perfecting his footwork and his lack against the short balls. While his younger and eccentric mates sweat it out in the air-conditioned world of machinery, he does so under the glaring rays of the sun. Alone and sans attention. The knees go down for a perfect cover drive. The wrists direct the cherry along the ground. The head remains straight and still. It is the perfect textbook shot. One that deserves a standing applause. But, who is around to give him one?

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The mega-buck league has propagated mighty shots to excite the crowds on flat tracks. It confesses to the marketability of an athlete over his finesses on the crease. A chiselled body and a perfectly trimmed beard. It feeds on the union between Bollywood stars and non-Bollywood ones. In a game where subtlety was the key; where sessions went by defending a similar delivery, atrocity has become the norm.

Yorkers are hardly appreciated unless they can send the middle stump flying. A perfectly timed shot is never really valued in a game where boundaries have gained precedence. Hit more maximums, win more cheques. And so, for the young crop of players rising in the horizon, the immediate aim always remains to earn an IPL contract. Money matters and a season or two can successfully help them get their lives back on track. The ultimate dream of playing for India remains, but there will be only a slight remorse if it fails to materialise.

And this is what was witnessed in the Rainbow Nation as well. Fit and raring-to-go players, who were oozing out bundles of aggression and energy in South Africa. Eleven Indians who had grown up in the dusty bowls of India focused on six-hitting were so sure that a similar feat would be replicated on the seaming track of Centurion as well. A double hundred against a meek opposition was adequate practice and ODI performances guaranteed a spot in the Test circuit as well.

As Murali Vijay struggled against the line and length of Vernon Philander and Rohit Sharma found himself bamboozled, minds raced back to the not-so-lean bodies of Sachin Tendulkar, Jacques Kallis, Brian Lara and VVS Laxman, who would have barely passed the demanding Yo-Yo test, but who could differentiate an in-swinger from one that drifted away. In the trial of the survival of the “fittest”, they would have succumbed surely, but metaphorically, the ability to shoot down challenges and emerge from the depths was what they mastered. And that is why; they stay around as legends and as inspiring icons.

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He has seen the attitude towards cricket change around him. From having fans discuss the deepest nuances of the game on every pavement to now witnessing the new generation barely care about the sport, save for the IPL encounters, somewhere his heart bleeds. He can transform himself into a cricketing rock-star if he wills, but he prefers to silently toil away under the glaring rays of the sun. Someday, someone will notice his knees going down for that perfect cover drive. Someone will overlook the influx of the six-hitting youngsters and notice how his wrists direct the cherry along the ground. Someday cricket will vouch for quality and aestheticism and stare in awe at the ability to keep the head straight up and still. The eyes fixed on a goal. The vision focused on not only his betterment but also of the sport’s. Someday, for sure!

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