That 100th

That elusive ton. Does it even matter if or when he gets it? The "If" is hypothetical, for get it he will. Maybe not at Eden, maybe not at Wankhede, maybe not even at Melbourne. Get it he will - in due course of time.

But for a moment - lets indulge our bits pessimism and consider the thought that he does not in fact get there and remains stranded at 99 tons. Given the form he is in, given how sweetly he has been timing the ball, given the beauty with which he has been playing his drives - there seems no doubt that he will keep scoring runs. And like at the Kotla - his runs will contribute to wins. He might get run down by the pressure of expecting the 100th, might get out in the 90s or even before as he starts chasing a landmark that weighs on his mind.

But if in all this melee - he fails to convert his form into a ton - will it really matter? 33K international runs. 200 international wickets. 22 years of batting at the top of the pile. 1 world cup. A ODI double ton. When time passes by and we remember - will we even remember if he got his 100th?

We will remember the moments. The sandstorm, the thwack over thirdman off Shoaib, The hook off Glenn McGrath at Nairobi, A pristine balanced cover drive, Being lifted on their shoulders by his young teammates, the wincing in pain but cruelly falling short 136, the massacre of Olonga, the disintegration of Warne.

His greatness - in numbers or more importantly in our minds - will not be enhanced by yet another ton. It wont diminish if he does not get there.

Lets just let him be. For sure he knows more about cricket than us fans put together. The 100th will happen, hopefully a 300 will materialise along the way - but the last thing we need to do is pile on the pressure for a landmark that will be good to have but mean nothing. In the meantime, while he takes his own sweet time in getting there - lets just enjoy the fact that we have a freak opener who can churn out runs in the blink of an eye, a number 3 who - if it were not for the chronological fact of existing in the same era of the God - would have been celebrated even more, a number 5 who is so elegant that its a dream to watch. Lets just celebrate the fact that when our no.3 and 4 bat out together in the centre - we are blessed to see 57K international runs out there in the centre.

The milestones will begotten on the journey, lets lay off the pressure to make the milestones the journey.

World Cup Champions

There was this comic on Cricinfo that talked about everlasting images from every World Cup. For me there are everlasting memories from each World Cup. Some of them great - ones i will savor for ever, some I wont savor and yet can't forget.

1996 will always be about Kambli crying and walking off after he had seen Jayasuria turn the ball square and get out the Indian team leading the rowdy Eden crowd to do their best rowdy act.

1999 will be about the Olonga induced collapse against Zimbabwe and then Sachin's return with a century dedicated to his late father

2003 will always be the first over bowled by Zaheer and that brief interlude when it rained during our chase - when for a moment hope lived that we would replay it again and get another shot.

2007 will only be that ugly crouch Sachin got out to playing Dilhara Fernando - the stumps being rattled and even the most optimistic of my hopes dying out in Dubai.

2011 was all about setting things straight. It was not only about winning it for Sachin, it was not just about winning a World Cup after 28 years - it was about proving to the world that we were the best cricketing unit there was in the world.

2011 was about exorcising the ghosts of 2007 - Several of the team members had survived that shock and for them it was about setting things right. 2007 was not a fair assessment of the team's potential and that could only be proved by winning the World Cup.

2011 above anything else was to exhibit that this team - this Indian team - was the toughest team there was in the World. Their rise to the top of rankings was not an accident but a result brought about by a set of individuals who refused to believe they could lose, who refused to see any writings on any wall and would fight to the very end.

And inevitably - this leads to a series of images and memories that I will cherish from this World Cup.

The first sign that we would win this world cup - or rather that we had it in us to face 3 knockouts and still stand tall - came not in a victory but in fact in the only loss we faced. Against South Africa - we had no business collapsing to 297 but more than that we had no business coming anywhere close to defending it against the batting of South Africa on a flat track. And yet that day the intensity was back. The bowlers were fired up, the fielders could do almost no wrong and we dragged it to a even stevens last over - which was ruined. But that happens and the fight and intensity shown by India was a sign of things to come.

Every match post that - it seemed at a stage we were out of every match we played. West Indies looked good to chase down our total - Zak brought us back in before everyone else went for the kill. The Australians snared 5 wickets - Yuvraj and Raina stared them down and refused to give up - to win it for us in an eventual canter

And Pakistan - when we looked set for 300, we started looking at 225 - when we were looking 225 - Raina took us to 260 - leaving enough for a fired up Indian attack to take us through. One of my most endearing memories will be the sight of a charged up Munaf Patel after bowling out Abdul Razzaq. You know a team is giving it everything i can when somebody as nonchalant and unenthusiastic as Munaf gets fired up like that. And yet again - it was that refusal to give up, the obstinate refusal to lose that took us through.

Man to man - with our bowling and fielding - our team does not stand up as the best in the world. Factor in attitude and the will to win, the belief to pull it off from any situation - and you have a champion team. Not champions who dominate from start to end, but champions who figure out a way to win by sheer force of will.

So even in a high pressure World Cup final at home , chasing 275 instead of the 240 that seemed more likely at 31/2 - there was every reason to back India to win. If Sehwag and Sachin fell, Virat, Gautam and Dhoni stood up. Just like in the matches gone past, somebody put their hands up, just like Ishant discovered he could be a defensive batting hero against Australia in tests - there always was someone who trusted and backed himself to bail the team out.

The enduring memory of the match - Dhoni almost boxing the wind out of Gambhir when he hi fived him. And the final 6 - complete with stone faced composure and stylish twirling of the bat.

We won - because we deserved to. We won - because we never believed any other result was possible. We won - because we refused to give in - at any stage in any match.

April 02, 2011 - Indian Cricket Team - Thank you! This is only the beginning.

Living the World Cup: Part2

The first World Cup I remember seeing live on a TV was the 1996 World Cup. I might have watched the 1983 and 1987 Cups but I have no recollection of them. The 1992 era was in a phase where I would have remembered matches if I had seen them but this was the era when cable TV had just about made its way in and we had not taken cable TV back then.

The memory I cherish the most from that World Cup - not difficult to guess at all - is the India Pakistan match at Chinnaswamy Stadium in Bangalore. Having watched the India - England close tussle to desperately lose a match - played yet again from the Chinnaswamy was easily enough to bring back those memories.

Watching a good match then equated to sitting in front of the TV right from the start, ensure that there was enough Pepsi stocked in the fridge and settle down in for a nice long haul. That day the match started slowly, Sidhu and Sachin had a partnership and we trudged along towards a barely enough kind of score. Waqar was bowling missiles that day and had some obscenely good figures of 8 overs for 19 runs. Till Ajay Jadeja made his way to the pitch and played a knock that made him a legend. He launched into Waqar like no one else had that day and bludgeoned 40 odd runs off 19 balls. My voice decibels that had been lowish through the match, had suddenly found their way up. My cousin who had come over to watch the Indian inning with me - had dozed off while the match had meandered was woken up by those loud decibels and together we watched as Jadeja charged and pummeled Waqar and took us to a really comfortable 287. The win then was guaranteed right! Who chases 287 in 1996?

But this was not one of those days that I could settle down - sip my pepsi and watch the action unfold. There was some birthday party to attend in Khar. A social function - very insensitively scheduled to collide with a INDIA - PAKISTAN match. No that doesnt do justice to the occassion. IT WAS A INDIA - PAKISTAN WORLD CUP match and one had to attend a birthday. Oh well - sometimes you have to do the things that build character.

So i set off - put on my red jacket (In hindsight it was an atrocious colour - but for a class 8 me - it seemed fashionable. Why would I wear a jacket for a birthday party you ask? When one buys a jacket at that age for a cousin's wedding - the number of occasions it can be used are really numbered and every possible opportunity to strut that stuff is essential.) But I digress.

So - red jacket on - a transistor in the left pocket of that very red jacket - I set off for the party - the commentary my constant companion on the journey. The commentators even in those days used to have "Aur yeh laga Dabur Laal Dant Manjan Chauka" Unfortunately that line repeated it self several times as Anwar and Sohail made mincemeat of Prasad and Srinath.

Luckily I was not the only one at the party who was outraged that this was on while an important match was being played. And one of the elders there expressed his protest by getting with him a portable TV - which showed the match. It might now explain why while I remember all these details, I have no recollection of whose birthday party it was - as for most part of the party I was tagging along with the TV dude - watching the action. And when Sohail prodded Prasad and taunted him, Prasad bowled the most outstanding, the most awesome, the most effective rubbish-begging-to-be-hit-for-a-six ball that Sohail managed to cut on to his stumps and letting poor placid Prasad erupt with a string of expletives and the most wonderful usage of the 4 letter word I have seen yet.

Prasad became an instant hero. Mind you we were school kids at a stage where we were just about expanding our vocabulary and for him to stick it up to Sohail in such a way was a huge impact on our impressionable minds.

That moment turned the match around and we won an exciting match.

Fifteen years on - I had set out to my friends' place to watch the match with them. Having set out a little late - I was yet again on the road, missing out on the first 5 overs of play. This time though there was no transistor - GPRS on the phone had taken its place and I was kept updated of the score.

No longer was Pepsi an essential element in watching the match. No it was replaced by pints of beer. The match kept getting exciting - the decibel levels kept rising as Sachin bludgeoned Swann Black and blue (see how I tried a cheesy little pun there?). 338 on the board - cool this was going to be enough. Then Strauss decided to have our bowlers for supper and the intensity kept drooping, decibel levels low. Till Zak came back and restored the voice back to my throat.

Only to be denied by Piyush at the end. But Chinnaswamy had kept its date with exciting matches and given me yet another match to savor and enjoy. Clearly the more things change, the more they remain the same!

Living the World Cup

It was March of 2007 and I had landed in Dubai for my international training stint. The chauffeured car had driven me to the hotel room and it was fabulous - a bedroom, a kitchenette and a nice living room. The bedroom had a nice flat screen TV, the living room had one of those long swivel chairs that you could lie down on and watch another flat screen TV. It was indeed super comfortable. But the World Cup was soon coming - the first thought to mind was "WOW - lying on this chair and watching the matches! Man am I in for some fun or what?!"

Switching on the TV and a quick scan told me that the channel which would telecast the live cricket was not available. Another quick phonecall to the reception told me that they were not about to telecast that channel either. Needless to say the joy quickly turned to consternation. I tried to think up several options - get internet - watch streaming video - too expensive. Ask hotel to buy the channel - flat refusal. And finally there was only one way out - make my way to a bar - sit there, glug a couple of drinks and watch the matches. After all it was the World Cup and there was no way I was missing that!

It was then with great hope and excitement that I made my way to the closest bar that telecast the match - Double Decker. It was a fantastic sports bar - a large screen for live action and several small flat screens to watch the action. Of all these - there were only 2 TVs with the cricket. The rest had live Rugby. Nevertheless I made my way to one of the two cricket TVs and settled down to watch the first match India had to play. Bangladesh - this was going to be a breeze right? The menu arrived and the prices were prohibitive - I got myself a beer and decided to nurse it through the inning. The beer nursed me through the collapse. 190 odd and indeed we were in trouble.

It was time for dinner though - remember the prohibitive prices I spoke about? Yeah those prices meant that taking a cab to a cheaper restaurant and getting back to Double Decker was a cheaper option than having dinner at Double Decker. So I made my way in a cab. Cabs in Dubai are driven by South Asians almost as a rule. It was a Pakistani driver - the radio on - listening to Pakistan lose their second match in a row and bow out of the Cup. He promised me India would lose against Bangladesh and get out of the cup. In all my infinite optimism I laughed him off and went to the bar - hoping to see a stirring Indian bowling fight back. It wasnt to be.

I was still confident we would not bow down. Not this team. We would crush Bermuda and beat Sri Lanka and make it to the super 8s. Double Decker was still my partner in crime as I saw my team rack up 413 against the hapless Bermudians. When Dravid and Sachin walked off - they had a emotional mini-hug signifying just how much it meant to them to fight back and make the next round.

We were to play Sri Lanka - I was sure we would win. ANd this time I wouldnt watch it at Double Decker which had no Indians or Cricket followers to enjoy the game with. No this time I was off to Karama - the Indian section of Dubai, at an Indian run hotel where I could follow the match and cheer with fellow Indians. All i remember of that game is our weak capitulation, the image of Sachin's ugly crouch to that delivery from Dilhara Fernando cant be wiped out.

Today was part.1 of the payback process. I lay down in front of my TV - the sound routed through the surround sound music system. No compulsion to buy drinks I couldnt afford. No need to go hunting for cheap food. I was home and India was thumping Bangladesh. Vengeance was to be had and was.

The Indian team paid back today for one bad day in Double Decker in Dubai. Nothing short of winning this edition will pay for the second bad day against Sri Lanka in Dubai. The start is promising. Its the World Cup after all