Sachin frantically calling up Bhajji just before the commencement of IPL V –
“Aila, Bhajji, we have a problem on our hands. Arjun has suddenly started saying since yesterday that he wants to shift to Bengaluru and wants me to move to RCB. He says that his genetic shortcomings can be overcome only if we move our base immediately.”
Bhajji – “Oye what’s the problem in that Paaji? I will captain MI. We won the CLT20 without you no?
The deafening silence on the other side reminds Bhajji of the silent stare that MSD used to give him when he did things that he shouldn’t have been doing (like bowling darts). He flinches but only for a second. He knows that he can always get back in people’s good books and silently thanks R Ashwin for giving him this conviction.
Bhajji – ‘But what does Arjun mean by genetic shortcomings? Genelia is married to Ritiesh now so that’s Ritiesh’s problem no?’
Sachin – ‘Arjun says he read some article somewhere yesterday and he is deeply affected by it. He says his Dad is a Marathi who has no voice in Mumbai’s culture ..’
Bhajji – ‘But Paaji isn’t he right about your voice?’
Sachin ignoring Bhajji continues – ‘.. and his mom is a Gujarati and Gujaratis only care about making money and no intellectuals come from their ranks. This unique combination puts him in a really shameful position in his own eyes.’
Bhajji – ‘waise to no cricketers come from their ranks either.. hahahah.. sorry sorry please don’t mention this to Neeta bhabhi.’
Sachin – ‘He is asking me to move to South India immediately, preferably Bengaluru or maybe even a Thiruvanathapuram where he can be cured of this defect.’
Bhajji – ‘Paaji, what do you mean by moving to South India? Mumbai is in South India only no? One advice! Go anywhere but Thiru.. Thiru.. you know what I mean, I never get these South Indian names. But Sree stays there! He stays in that state! His mere presence even closed down their franchise.’
Sachin – ‘But going to RCB means taking Kingfisher flights. That team is going nowhere, literally.’
Bhajji – ‘Paaji, I have got a brilliant idea. Arjun wants South Indian culture no? Let’s ask Neeta bhabhi to buy more south Indian players. That will make him happy and you don’t have to move either.’
Sachin – ‘You want another R Sathish? After going through all those pains to finally rid of him? Maybe we can think of R Ashwin. Looks like an intellectual, bowls like one, fields like one and runs like one too.’
Bhajji (cursing himself) – ‘On second thoughts that was a very bad idea.’
Sachin – ‘Arjun actually wants to move to South India so anyway it was a non starter.’
Bhajji – ‘hahaha yes Paaji. Talking of starters the idea would put me in a soup too.’
Sachin – ‘Bhajji stop this PJ session right now. I don’t want to move out of MI. So give me some ideas to convince Arjun about not moving.’
Bhajji – ‘Thaand rakho Paaji. Where did Arjun get this crazy idea from?’
Sachin – ‘From some silly article that said that South India is a better place to stay than North India.’
Bhajji infuriated – ‘Who says so? We north Indians are so jovial and peaceful. Just bring that guy to me and I will slap him harder than I did Sree. I will tell him ‘boss mat ungal karna with us.’
Sachin suddenly perks up.
'Can you say that last sentence again?'
Bhajji - 'Mat ungal karna with us?'
Sachin -‘Yes, that one. Eureka!! Bhajji, you are a genius. I know what to do. I am going to shift from Bandra to Matunga. That place is full of South Indian Brahmins. They have authentic Ddosa and Sambur. Arjun can go to Carnatic music classes daily and listen to all those intellectual discussions at Café Madras on Sunday mornings. I promise I will surely come for your retirement function which the BCCI has been talking about organising for a while now. Why are you looking so shocked? You don't believe I love you more than Jammy? Anyways! Gotta go and call up my real estate broker to buy one lane in Matunga.’
Bhajji (inadvertently) saves the day again and emerges as an ace trouble ‘shooter’ for Mumbai Indians as he manages to keep Sachin in his beloved Mumbai.
Dear Rahul,
I watched your press conference today teary-eyed on one of the news channel websites and though I had promised myself that the words ‘second fiddle’ or ‘overshadowed’ won’t appear anywhere in the piece, the irony wasn’t lost on me that before the presser video they showed an ad featuring Sachin Tendulkar promoting Castrol GTX.
The press conference, as expected was low on theatrics and high on content reflecting the type of Cricketer you were and the way you conducted yourself on and off the field for more than 20 years, with honour and dignity.
You have always reminded me of the Taanpura in Hindustani classical music. Taanpura is a stringed instrument found in different forms and different places. You too went through your career playing different roles and batting at different positions. The Taanpura is unique in both it’s musical function and in how it works. It does not partake in the melodic part of the music but it supports and sustains the melody by providing a colourful and dynamic harmonic resonance field based on one precise tone, the basic note or key-note. Also, it is not played in rhythm with the music. Its tempo is independent of the music it supports and the speed of playing may vary throughout a performance or remain relatively constant, at the discretion of the player.
You were the undisputed harmonic resonance on the basis of which the Indian cricket team produced some outstanding music. Your presence was always taken for granted but your absence underlined your value. Taanpura is derived from ‘Taan’ which is a virtuoso technique used in the vocal performance of a raga and ‘pura’ meaning ‘full’ or ‘complete’. To borrow from Jerry Maguire, you made the team complete.
My 8 year old daughter knows that Tendulkar is my favourite player but she also knows that you are the player I respect the most in our team. And you have earned that respect by being on that cricket pitch for the longest period of time than any batsman has ever spent in the history of Test Cricket. You have earned it by sheer grit and determination. You have earned it by showing that success is 1% inspiration and 105% perspiration (well you did perspire a lot). You have earned it by not attracting even a whiff of controversy throughout your playing career.
And now you won’t be around any more. I understand the inevitability of champions coming and going. But you have spoilt us by always being there in times of crisis, by making us believe in the impossible. And you spoilt us by getting us to believe that nice guys don’t always finish last. Let me behave like a spoilt brat one last time to demand a better farewell for you. I know it won’t work but then we too won’t remain spoilt for too long.
.. “Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit”
These words by Rabindranath Tagore capture the very essence of you. Our minds were without fear when you were at the crease. Now we will wonder.
I will take this opportunity to wish you all the best for your future and signoff by giving you the biggest compliment that I can think of. Dear Rahul, I wish and fervently hope that my kid grows up to be like you.
Thanks, Namya
............This was not the case. The latest news which Vladimir Brusiloff had had from Russia had been particularly cheering. Three of his principal creditors had perished in the last massacre of the _bourgeoisie_, and a man whom he owed for five years for a samovar and a pair of overshoes had fled the country, and had not been heard of since. It was not bad news from home that was depressing Vladimir. What was wrong with him was the fact that this was the eighty-second suburban literary reception he had been compelled to attend since he had landed in the country on his lecturing tour, and he was sick to death of it. When his agent had first suggested the trip, he had signed on the dotted line without an instant's hesitation. Worked out in roubles, the fees offered had seemed just about right. But now, as he peered through the brushwood at the faces round him, and realized that eight out of ten of those present had manuscripts of some sort concealed on their persons, and were only waiting for an opportunity to whip them out and start reading, he wished that he had stayed at his quiet home in Nijni-Novgorod, where the worst thing that could happen to a fellow was a brace of bombs coming in through the window and mixing themselves up with his breakfast egg.
At this point in his meditations he was aware that his hostess was looming up before him with a pale young man in horn-rimmed spectacles at her side. There was in Mrs. Smethurst's demeanour something of the unction of the master-of-ceremonies at the big fight who introduces the earnest gentleman who wishes to challenge the winner.
"Oh, Mr. Brusiloff," said Mrs. Smethurst, "I do so want you to meet Mr. Raymond Parsloe Devine, whose work I expect you know. He is one of our younger novelists."
The distinguished visitor peered in a wary and defensive manner through the shrubbery, but did not speak. Inwardly he was thinking how exactly like Mr. Devine was to the eighty-one other younger novelists to whom he had been introduced at various hamlets throughout the country. Raymond Parsloe Devine bowed courteously, while Cuthbert, wedged into his corner, glowered at him.
"The critics," said Mr. Devine, "have been kind enough to say that my poor efforts contain a good deal of the Russian spirit. I owe much to the great Russians. I have been greatly influenced by Sovietski."
Down in the forest something stirred. It was Vladimir Brusiloff's mouth opening, as he prepared to speak. He was not a man who prattled readily, especially in a foreign tongue. He gave the impression that each word was excavated from his interior by some up-to-date process of mining. He glared bleakly at Mr. Devine, and allowed three words to drop out of him.
"Sovietski no good!"
He paused for a moment, set the machinery working again, and delivered five more at the pithead.
"I spit me of Sovietski!"
There was a painful sensation. The lot of a popular idol is in many ways an enviable one, but it has the drawback of uncertainty. Here today and gone tomorrow. Until this moment Raymond Parsloe Devine's stock had stood at something considerably over par in Wood Hills intellectual circles, but now there was a rapid slump. Hitherto he had been greatly admired for being influenced by Sovietski, but it appeared now that this was not a good thing to be. It was evidently a rotten thing to be. The law could not touch you for being influenced by Sovietski, but there is an ethical as well as a legal code, and this it was obvious that Raymond Parsloe Devine had transgressed. Women drew away from him slightly, holding their skirts. Men looked at him censoriously. Adeline Smethurst started violently, and dropped a tea-cup. And Cuthbert Banks, doing his popular imitation of a sardine in his corner, felt for the first time that life held something of sunshine.
Raymond Parsloe Devine was plainly shaken, but he made an adroit attempt to recover his lost prestige.
"When I say I have been influenced by Sovietski, I mean, of course, that I was once under his spell. A young writer commits many follies. I have long since passed through that phase. The false glamour of Sovietski has ceased to dazzle me. I now belong whole-heartedly to the school of Nastikoff."
There was a reaction. People nodded at one another sympathetically. After all, we cannot expect old heads on young shoulders, and a lapse at the outset of one's career should not be held against one who has eventually seen the light.
"Nastikoff no good," said Vladimir Brusiloff, coldly. He paused, listening to the machinery.
"Nastikoff worse than Sovietski."
He paused again.
"I spit me of Nastikoff!" he said.
This time there was no doubt about it. The bottom had dropped out of the market, and Raymond Parsloe Devine Preferred were down in the cellar with no takers. It was clear to the entire assembled company that they had been all wrong about Raymond Parsloe Devine. They had allowed him to play on their innocence and sell them a pup. They had taken him at his own valuation, and had been cheated into admiring him as a man who amounted to something, and all the while he had belonged to the school of Nastikoff. You never can tell. Mrs. Smethurst's guests were well-bred, and there was consequently no violent demonstration, but you could see by their faces what they felt. Those nearest Raymond Parsloe jostled to get further away. Mrs. Smethurst eyed him stonily through a raised lorgnette. One or two low hisses were heard, and over at the other end of the room somebody opened the window in a marked manner.
Raymond Parsloe Devine hesitated for a moment, then, realizing his situation, turned and slunk to the door. There was an audible sigh of relief as it closed behind him.
Vladimir Brusiloff proceeded to sum up.
"No novelists any good except me. Sovietski--yah! Nastikoff--bah! I spit me of zem all. No novelists anywhere any good except me. P. G. Wodehouse and Tolstoi not bad. Not good, but not bad. No novelists any good except me."
And, having uttered this dictum, he removed a slab of cake from a near-by plate, steered it through the jungle, and began to champ.
I was reminded of this extremely funny story titled 'The Clicking of Cuthbert' by P.G. Wodehouse by events taking place of late. That 'opened window' at the end of the excerpt above was a polite way of asking Raymond to go. The Indian media/fans/ex cricketers have been far more ruthless, vocal and irrational in asking Tendulkar to go. And who has acted as Vladimir Brusiloff in this saga? Well, the Australian selectors obviously. The supposed Magi of cricket who know all that there is to know about picking up a team and who threw out Ricky Ponting in the middle of a series. It was an extremely silly move but the audience in India think that just like Vladimir Brusiloff, the Aussie selectors are to be blindly revered.
I enjoyed rereading 'The Clicking of Cuthbert'. Am i enjoying the cricketing equivalent of this story? The jury is out.
The Indian Olympic Association has demanded that the Dow Jones Index should drop the 'Dow' from its name and henceforth call itself the Jones Index. When told that Dow Jones Indexes and Dow Chemical Company are two entirely different entities with no real connection they whittled down their demand to drop only the 'D' and rename itself The Ow Jones Index.
The above fake news is in response to the current darling topic of the news channels - 'Should India boycott the London Olympics?' Why? Because one of the sponsors of the London Games is the Dow Chemical Company, the current owner of the erstwhile Union Carbide, which was responsible for the Bhopal Gas leak, the biggest industrial tragedy that has ever happened in Indian history. Believe me, it was by far one of the biggest human tragedies that has EVER happened. And I would still want to behave logically.
So will a guy like Abhinav Bindra not participate at the London Olympics because an emotional appeal to a nation takes our focus away from what is sport? We have seen enough boycotts, we have seen enough hate.After talking to a guy like Bindra, one realises that people sacrifice enough to try and reach the pinnacle of their sport. And you can never take it away from them for some political reason.
The Dow Chemical Company still operates in India. If the Indian government were so particular about the Bhopal gas leak they would stop Dow from coming to India. If Dow can still legally operate in India AND make profits then what moral right does the govenrment have to go to the IOA? The morality of the Indian government protesting against a Dow at the Olympics is as good as a Ricky Ponting claiming a bump catch.
Was Dow ever really directly responsible for the Narasamhar? It wasn't. They took over a few years later from Union Carbide. It wasn't legally responsible for what Union Carbide had done.
You go to the Dow website and you can see that the Dow Chemical Company has sponsored the US cycling team for some 16 years and more and a lot of other Winter Olympics stuff for at least 20 years as well. So Dow has been a partner of the IOC for some 30 years. Did anybody raise a stink then? They didn't. So why blame Dow now?
I would join the chorus to stone a Dow sponsorship if it were that simple. It is NOT!! Down(n) with it!!!
Location: A room full of neutral observers sitting in a
prickinfo studio analysing India’s
defeat in Australia
with a Not Cricket reporter disguised as Poonam Paan de. (It was very difficult
to get in because the reporter wasn’t ugly enough but when threatened with FULL
disclosure the door keeper agreed)
Hideous Gaigh: “Good evening all. I open my comments with
the chef that the Indian team got. In this land
of Masterchef Australia
bringing an outsider was an insult to the Australian team. Taking baked beans
cans to India
is all right. That really fired them up. Not the beans I mean. It fired up our
team. And then all the Indians kept on waiting for the IPL auction happening
this Saturday to count the money they would make…”
Poonam Paan De: “Err, Sir, there are only a few players from
the erstwhile Kochi
team and a few others going under the hammer.”
Flipkart Monga: “Pullease.. even Dhoni has said so”
PPD: “Huh? When”?
FM: “Well, in the press conference he gave.”
PPD: “I never heard him say it”
FM: “Did you hear him say that he didn’t want to be a
captain”?
PPD: “No.”
FM: “Alas my lady what did you hear then? Did you know that
Dhoni has had a 8-0 back to back white washes that he has captained? If not
please do read my article’
PPD: “Umm! You mean 4 lost in England,
2 won against the Windies in India
and then 3 lost in Australia.
He didn’t play the fourth did he”?
FM: “Do you believe Prickinfo who don’t physically attend a
cricket match, watch it on TV and give LIVE commentary or you believe in actual
Truth”?
PPD: “I am not sure. May be I believe Prickinfo. It’s the
foam of cricket.”
FM: “Now let us give a chance to some of our esteemed
colleagues from the print media to voice their learned opinions.”
A Journalist from up North: “Dravid, Tendulkar, VVS, Zaheer,
Ashwin failed so drop them, get Raina, Yuvi, Bhajji and Ojha”
A Journalist from down South: “Sehwag, Gambhir, Dhoni,
Tendulkar,failed, so drop them and get Mukund, Badri, Vijay, and DK."
A Journalist from West: “Tendulkar failed, get Rohit
Sharma.”
Sourav Gang-ungli: “All seniors failed. Get me. Please. I
beg of you. I will come in Kohli’s place if you so choose. He is a senior too!”
Prickinfo expert: “It’s all about IPL. You stop IPL and we
will give you a simulated Test victory on our portal. We also have some
ex-cricketers who would like to share their views with us.”
I'm rant Khan: “Well you know I should become the Pak PM but
because this is a cricketing show, Tendulkar should retire. I retired 4 times
in my illustrious career and I came back 6 times. So I should know.”
Vibhishan Bedi: “Murali throws, Murali Karthik is the best
left arm spinner in the world today. I was the best left arm spinner ever.”
Magan Lal: “Ishant should bowl faster than me in my prime.”
FM: “Well since not many guys are blaming the IPL we bring
our show to a close here. The entire system should be cleansed. Ranji trophy
should be played in Australia,
IPL should go, Seniors should retire, IPL should go, MSD should retire, IPL
should go, Sehwag should retire, IPL should go, Gambhir should retire, IPL
should go. We think we have had a very insightful and serious discussion about
Indian cricket. We are sure that we will get enough retweets from all those
frustrated souls out there. With this, dear Test Cricket lovers, we repeat,
Test Cricket lovers, we take your leave.”
The former great was a bitter man. The joke went at the CCI that bar tenders asked him to stick his fingers in a cocktail if they had run out of bitters. But it could all have been so different. His entire career would have meant something if only he had achieved that elusive milestone. The milestone that everyone was waiting for. The milestone that his supporters cheered him on for. The milestone that had become a mill stone around his and his team's neck. And only he knew how hard he had tried and failed.
He supported the Occupy Wallstreet protest wholeheartedly. He fully understood the pains of being a part of the 99%. The 1% was what had stripped him of a decent ride in the sunset. How hard had he worked to get to the tally of 99. All those balls faced, all those painstaking hours of practicing at the nets, all those people doubting his match winning abilities, all the personal sacrifices made had finally come to a nought. His team couldn't carry his weight any more. His team could carry the pressure of anticipation no further. He had to make way for other youngsters. That was how an ageing sportsman's quest for glory had ended. It was a long and a lonely walk.
He swore by everything he held dear that he would have his revenge.
We can see glimpses of that pleasure of revenge served cold from the utterances of Sanjay Manjrekar for years now but the last 2-3 months have been sweeter. For indeed, Manjrekar in his splendid career of 74 ODIs where he amassed 1994 runs at a stunning average of 33.23, could manage to score only 99 boundaries. A boundary for Sanjay Manjrekar was as valuable as a 100 for most Indian fans. It was that rare. Alas he could never achieve that dream of a memorable 100 boundaries. Commentating history could have looked very different if he were allowed that one last shot (literally and figuratively) at greatness. Well some sort of medium success at least.
And this is an excerpt from the Cricinfo profile of the 'former great' as he is termed now days by most media - 'His century against a four-prong West Indian pace attack at Bridgetown in 1988-89 was masterful, and he followed it up with a double and single century in Pakistan. But he only managed one other century - a laboured if match-saving effort in Zimbabwe's inaugural Test. He struggled to find his rhythm and form on bouncy pitches in Australia and South Africa, and never recaptured that poise and balance. Manjrekar made an unsuccessful attempt at reinventing himself as an opener in 1997 and faded out of the international scene.'
I hope he recovers his poise and balance after this sweet taste of India's recent failures.
Hat tip to SFX to bring this 99 record to my notice
Brad Haddin was spot on when he said that the Indians break
quicker than anybody else in the world when things are not going their way. He
may or may not be correct about the Indian Team but he surely was on the money
about the Indian media and the India
supporters. I won't want to comment on Brad Haddin the player. He is there becuase Tim Paine breaks some part of his anatomy quicker than anybody else in the world. But the way the Indian supporters have turned on this team would put a pack of
wild dogs to shame. Actually wild dogs attack only to procure their food and
don’t turn on their own.
One of the reasons of India’s success against Australia
whether in Australia or India (The Ozs didn’t win for 8 tests post Sydney 2008)
was that ‘mental disintegration’ by the Oz players worked as a motivation for
the Indian team. All the chatting, pre-match predictions and claims of having
found chinks in the armours somehow spurred on the Indians unlike other teams
that folded up under pressure. What the Australians did better this time as a
team (even the Oz media to a certain extent, or was it the aftermath of the
loss to the Kiwis?) was being sort of nice. Well that isn’t possible really so
at least they tried not to be too nasty or rude. That ‘Khunnas’ of playing the
Australians just wasn’t generated in this series. I had mentioned in my earlier
post that it didn’t feel like 2007 at all.
Along with the media the Australians seem to have discovered
that especially with the young Indian players, spectators can be the new ‘not
so secret’ weapon. Instead of ignoring the raving idiots who want to throw
abuse at them they are reacting. Only Indian crowds are supposed to be racist and
abusive. Everyone, I mean every spectator in Australia is a paragon of virtue
and don’t need those notices put up across Indian stadia cautioning spectators
that offensive behaviour is a punishable offence. My point is that there are
bad apples everywhere and these nuts to be controlled across stadiums in the
world. In their enthusiasm to kick a man who is down, the Indian media and the
Indian fans are ridiculing their own players. This has been the key difference
between Sydney 2008 and Sydney 2012 - the lack of any support for the Indian
team.
I am not trying to justify or overlook the performance of
the cricket team but do we really have to start talking about how the seniors
are to be blamed for this debacle? Is there any one Indian supporter who decried
the team selection before the start of this series? So why suddenly start
questioning the team mid way? There are still 2 more matches to go and unlike England where
the team was operating with a lot of temporary personnel and was not playing
against a team which got bowled out for 47 why talk of a 4-0 prematurely? The
fact that everyone has already started talking of a 4-0 result shows that the
mental disintegration of the Indian media and the Indian fan has come faster
than even the Australians would have expected.
The Indian team needs to completely ignore all the tamasha
happening outside and relax mentally. Maybe go-karting helps them relax and if
they feel it does, no one has the right to question their method of practice.
I was astonished to read Gavaskar’s comments about the
Indians not being in Australia
for sight seeing and that they should be practicing instead. Coming from a man
who has always maintained that the Australian media is an extension of the
Australin cricket team, this was the final nail. It seems that the media of
both countries and the fans have wittingly or unwittingly become that
extension. With SMG joining their ranks the process of mental disintegration is
complete.
If it was pathetic to watch the Indian team’s performance at
Sydney (and I
am not singling out batting or bowling), the reactions to that loss across the
board have been shameful. This hurts more than Sydney 2008. Hopefully these
events spur the Indian team as well.
This upcoming Indian tour of Australia doesn't in any way feel like the last time the Indians were down under. Somehow the spark seems to be missing. I admit that the last time the Indians were in Australia it was more like the wild Australian bush fires. This tour seems more like an effort by the Indian broadcaster to reignite the Ashes from that period gone by. The prospects of watching this Agneepath (as promoted by Star Cricket) series fill me with as much excitement as my keen anticipation in watching Hritik Roshan's portrayal of Amitabh Bachchan's now legendary Vijay Dinanath Chahuhan in the original Agneepath; close to nothing.
Why this lack of 'smacking my lips in anticipation of the upcoming contest' feeling di?
Is it because the two main actors from that iconic 2007 series viz. Bhajji and Symmo are both cooling their heels in their respective houses; Bhajji in Chandigarh and Symmo in the Big Boss house? Is it because instead of hearing the choicest 'teri maaki' variations from Bhajji we are subjected to a far docile 'meri maaki haath ki makke di roti kha Andrew baba' talk?
Or is it because we have moved from those times in 2007 when a captain used to ask Ishant Sharma 'ek aur karega?' (Will you bowl one more over?), after Ishant had bowled 8 on a trot and was almost ready to drop to the ground to 2011 where a captain asks Ishant 'ek over karega?' in a very worried tone at the start of the match?
Or is it because Ricky Ponting is not the most hated guy in India any more
and now languishing some where in the bottom half of the top 100 love2hateu
list? To those who didn't get this it is exactly similar to the difference between
his ICC Test batting ranking then and now.
Or is it because I have already written off India's chances after reading that Guru Greg is going to share his secret formula to tackle Indian batsmen?
Or is it because Steve Bucknor's 'inhuman errors' may not be repeated as the series doesn't have UDRS where the hotspot unfailingly fails to catch an edge?
Or is it because the most interesting duel of the series is expected to be fought inside the commentary box instead of the ground where Steve Waugh and Saurav are paired together?
Or is it because Harsha Bhogle is not a part of the TV commentary team? I couldn't come up with this reason even in jest.
Or is it because I have changed? Maybe the reason of the missing spark is much closer to home than I realise. I started blogging seriously post Sydney 2007 where I reasoned that Indians should focus on the Perth Test rather than getting bogged down in unnecessary emotional distractions. It has been a long journey since then; most of it being certified juvenile attempts at writing something, anything. In today's world my juvenile attempts on twitter fetch me better hits so why bother to write stuff longer than 140 characters?
It just doesn't feel like 2007 any more.
This is a true story. Really! It was pointed out to a friend by his driver that the new annual insurance papers of his car (which is technically owned by his employer and hence insurance is done by his admin department ) mentioned the wrong car #. Instead of 4123, which was the actual # on the number plate, the insurance was taken out on registration # 4321.
Now my friend is not a person from a certain community from up north (I know Sibal reads this blog every day and hence refrain from inciting hatred and hurting sentiments by naming it), which shouts first and thinks later. But he thought that aping this behaviour was the best way to proceed in this manner. He promptly wrote a mail to the admin department inquiring the whereabouts of their lost brains and asking them to rectify the mistake immediately. It wasn't a Virat Kohli enquiry about the well being of people's mothers and sisters but more like an anguished Raina plea.
The admin department came back to him within 3 days (a record in itself with the previous one standing at a dazzlingly quick response in 7 days) along with scanned copies of the RC book and the insurance papers of the last 4 years. They seemed to suggest that as per their records the registration # of the car was indeed 4321 and not 4123 as visible on the car's number plate. In typical admin fashion they queried if he wanted to go to the RTO and ask them to change the registration number which could take a few months or if he wanted to chnage his number plate.
A grim realisation dawned upon my friend that he was provided with a faulty number plate by the car dealer and that he was driving a car for 3.5 years with that wrong number. He was glad that the same realisation had not dawned on the traffic police during that time which could lead to some uncomfortable Raja/Kanimozi kind of situation. He promptly went ahead and changed his number plate.
Now people may wonder what's the point of this anecdote with Virender Sehwag. I heard this story on a day when Sehwag too realised that he was batting under the wrong assumption that he was made to play long innings only in Test matches (bless them for they represent all that is good about life). He was licensed to play Sehwaguesque innings in ODIs as well.
Virender Sehwag and my friend's car by a strange quirk of fate managed to get their correct license plates made on the same day.
The fallen hero has been a favorite character right from the times of Greek and Indian mythologies. Somehow a tainted genius has appealed to authors across centuries. He gives them a complex character with various layers and umpteen shades of grey. Most readers too don’t really care too much for the perfect flawless character. Yudhishthira in Mahabharata is one such example. Very few books have been written with him being the central character. The number of books written on Karna, on the other hand are too many.
There are some similarities and differences in the way people react to the personal flaws in a sports person. By flaws, I mean all the human frailties that a sports person demonstrates outside of his or her chosen profession. Some almost perfect champions are looked upon as too boring and dull. Pete Sampras, Rahul Dravid, Roger Federer, Vishwanathan Anand are too nice, almost too good to be true. They are loved for their game, they are respected by their opponents for their talent and that’s about it. Then there have been champions who epitomise the flawed genius concept. Mike Tyson and Tiger Woods spring to mind. There have been a few who have managed to walk the fine line between boring and enfant terrible like Andre Agassi, Novak Djokovic and MS Dhoni.
The media obviously has played a huge role in expounding the image of a champion and also takes a vicarious pleasure in dismantling it. The kind of media frenzy seen once the Tiger Woods story broke was disgusting. The man obviously wasn’t a saint. But the way his family was hounded, the way he was taken to the cleaners by the press was unacceptable.
All these thoughts spring to mind after reading and observing the media reporting in l’affaire Roebuck. To make it clear, I have been a big fan of Peter Roebuck - he was one of the top cricket writers in the world. And I am pleased to note the fact that the media has chosen to wait for the final police report instead of talking to ‘sources’, making insinuations and casting aspersions on the man’s character.
What I am surprised about though is that it hasn’t happened. All the articles I have read talk of a respected reporter, with a fleeting mention of ‘unfortunate circumstances that led to his untimely death’.
If one looks at the circumstances as gleaned from newspaper reports it is clear that the South African police was in the process of interrogating Roebuck for a sexual assault complain lodged against him. According to Jim Maxwell, ABC’s main commentator who was with Roebuck minutes before he jumped out of the hotel window, Roebuck was in a state of utter despair. What Roebuck was supposed to be charged for was a supposed criminal act.
Roebuck’s innocence or guilt may never be proved but in many high profile cases the media hasn’t really waited for the final verdict, has it? So many super stars have been ‘exposed’ through sting operations or hanged by the media on one person’s statement, sometimes without an iota of proof. But not in this case. All those breaking news stories on cheating football stars, golfers and cricketers who claim that some match fifteen years back was fixed have been printed and broadcast with impunity.
All the media stories on the private lives of Tiger Woods, Cashley Cole, Frank Lampard, John Terry and Ryan Giggs were more about their moral failings. As far as I can remember, there was no criminal breach involved. But yet these guys were never given a decent chance to explain themselves and found themselves splashed across the front pages of many newspapers.
I have a couple of theories to this understated reporting of the Roebuck case. Is it that the media looks after its own? Why is no one really trying to find out the ‘truth?' There are so many unanswered questions. Was there a policeman present when the suicide took place? If yes, what was he doing?
There was a suspended sentence earlier, could they talk to the complainants again? Investigative journalism should help the world settle any doubts about the tragic death. The question is can the press handle the truth themselves. Is this the cronyism that the press keeps on lambasting every other profession for?
I also find that the press finds it unsavoury to write unflattering things about the private lives of the dead and I agree with the sentiment. But isn’t writing and telling the whole world about transgressions of living champions in their private lives equally reprehensible? The fallen champion has to live with the stigma all his or her life breaking relationships, descending in his own personal hell.
I wish to reiterate that the Roebuck case is only taken as an illustration to highlight the media’s two faced behaviour. If journalism is supposed to be neutral and fair then it has to apply to every one. Even to journalists.
I wonder how Roebuck, who in his famous article post Sydney gate, asked for Ricky Ponting’s head, would write his own ending.
* - Also published in the Views column (some disruption on the blog site then)
Hi Abhinav,
I just wanted to wish you all the best for tomorrow. As I have said to you before, I believe that your dedication and professionalism-the most important personality traits-leave you with nothing left to prove to anyone, including yourself. You have already achieved what really matters. Now all that remains is the shooting.
Tim*
This note was written to Abhinav Bindra by Timothy Harkness, who had worked on his mental conditioning, just before the Beijing Olympics. A testimony that has to be aimed for by any sportsperson who, ever wishes to reach the pinnacle of his/her sport. Success may yet elude him but he has to know that he has done everything possible to dig deep, to reach and even stretch the limits of his potential and that he could have done no more. No doubts linger in his mind about whether the skipped training session, that one less kilometre of the run, that one small uncorrected flaw could be the likely cause of failure.
One started reading and finished in a day, the eagerly awaited Autobiography of Abhinav Bindra – A Shot at History, co-authored by Rohit Brijnath. It was eagerly awaited because it was about a person and his sport, both of which were a mystery. Bindra always seemed reserved, cautious even. There was no real insight into this man’s world, his feelings, his interests, his anxieties. One could sense the fierce intensity though. The first Olympic gold medallist for India had to share his experiences and his journey to that achievement. It was time.
There was another reason as well. As kids all of us have, one day or another, tried to emulate/copy our favourite sportsperson. It need not have been in the same sport because that would need a bit of talent too. It may have been a signature gesture or a phrase or a head band of a certain John McEnroe with curly hair (some decently known personality tried this one). The entire concept of celebrity branding has roots in our constant desire to copy our heroes, to connect to them by using a particular brand. Rohit Brijnath has been one of those heroes for many of us. Trying to emulate his writing is close to impossible but one can always think of getting a goatee. But reading an article every 2 weeks was too little, a bit late too sometimes (as Straits Times doesn't have an online edition or some such). We needed a full length book from him. It was time.
It would seem to one that writing a full length book after years of writing a beautiful poetry in sports supplements of newspapers is akin to an ODI legend getting his first Test cap after a long wait. There can be many pitfalls on such a debut. A weak spot not evident in a journalist’s article can become a glaring hole in a book. A command on language and reporting on specific sporting incidents may take you far but not far enough while writing a full length book where you need to maintain continuity and fluidity.
It would be but natural to choose favourable conditions for it. For RB it would be say writing a book on cricket, on a famous Indian cricketer. Blockbuster guaranteed! But he has chosen a more difficult path. The sport is not known to many, its intricacies known only to a select few. Bindra himself has always been a very low profile character with no controversies haunting his past. He just looks like a nice kid, the strong, silent type. But he did win an Olympic gold for India.
The book starts off with a short summary of Bindra’s low point in his career- Athens Olympics as a teaser, then follows his childhood days and his personal life. One started getting a feeling that this was beginning to look like those nervous starts in a debut match. The language a bit stilted, anecdotes like Bindra ordering Yak milk from China appearing to be more for effect than a literary rationale. One doubts.
Both Bindra and RB have seen enough ignorant doubters in their life at the initial stages of their career and one’s own doubt ends up falling in the same category. The story that follows is one MAD person’s quest for success at first which eventually takes a back seat. It becomes his quest to find perfection. The lengths that he goes about in attaining this compulsive, obsessive goal is thrilling and at the same time humbling. Those searching for an adrenaline rush need not read this book. This is not a heady tale of gruelling duels or personal rivalries. It’s not a detailed account of his Beijing sojourn. That lasts only a few pages. It is about a bloody minded attention to detail and the process to achieve 8 Sigma (not 6). That process makes him change his stance which takes him months, years to adjust to. But he does. He wants to eliminate all possibilities of errors and not just depend on form when time comes. Every time a cricket coach talk about getting the process right and not concentrating on short term results, one will instantly recall this book.
RB’s touches are evident in the references to the Jordans, Alis, Tendulkars and Dravids of the world which act as relief breaks from the intensity of Bindra’s story. Some times the reference to other sports showing how different shooting is from normal sport becomes a bit repetitive. There’s no mention of how Bindra got into the Beijing Olympics team after he justifiably cribs about officials talking in 2007of P.T. Raghunath going instead of him with Gagan Narang.
I am writing this at 6 a.m. after having finished reading the book at 1 a.m. I just couldn’t sleep too well. The world (at least India) had to be told to go and read this book. If you are a parent hell bent on making your kid a world class athlete and you are allowed only one book to read, THIS is the one. It will enlighten you of the challenges, the tough times and the frustrations that your kid will face in his/her quest for glory. It also will tell you how important your committed support means to your child. And it will also tell you the story of an outstanding, psychotic, shy, fidgety, yet deeply intense individual, and his ultimate success, or wait. Was the Beijing gold his ultimate success? Or is there more in store in London 2012?
*from A shot at History
I had written this before the Beijing Olympics but had missed out on Bindra's chances for a gold :)
P.S. - There are some issues about posting comments on this piece and I apologise for it. If someone really wants to put up a comment, one is free to send a mail to namya@rocketmail.com and I will put up the comments. Sorry again for the inconvenience.
I saw it 3 days back..
It is not a team sport.
Look at Abhinav Mukund, Gautam Gambhir, Ojha, A Mithun, Irfan Pathan..
They are not playing for a team for god's sake
Every one is playing for himself.
Write back to me if they are'nt..
If selector Cheeka had really read the blogosphere seriously, he would have dropped himself from the selection committee and voted for Homer instead. But he chose to ignore the relevant stuff and read the fluffy stuff. The stuff that talks about Chanakya's politics. The stuff that talks about the Love for one's son. The stuff that talks in a language none other than Tamil.
Can he read English? He can!! English written in Tamil script is his forte. Does he understand it? Did Cullinan understand Warne's bowling? If he did, Cheeka is better at understanding English. He still commands his writ on a player selected for the Indian team.
All those people who are rejoicing today for Bhajji's dropping(s) will not want to admit, but will want him in the team maybe tomorrow, or maybe the day after. They have never realised that Bhajji is like a Maharashtrian. He never is a great team player but becomes effective when he becomes a leader (like Raj Thackrey).
Can Bhajji's absence in this team last for too long? This blog forever has ridiculed him but when it comes to a comparison between Bhajji and Vinay Kumar, time stands still. Err, umm, I dunno but yet Bhajji comes trumps over Vinay Kumar for god's sake. Bhajji is our better fastish off spinner than what Vinay Kumar is. And he can bat as well!
Maybe Bhajji is our better captain in the making. The way he has captained MI maybe a positive indicator. Maybe Bhajji HAS made it larger in life. maybe others haven't made anything of themselves in life. If they are advertising for Kingfisher they might as well ask for an advance before doing the ad. Never know when it can turn sour.
Bhajji can actually contribute more than MSD in a match, atleast in an Ad. He can bat and he can captain. Dhoni can do neither; as proved over the past 2 months.
And coming to the other spinners, if Rahul Sharma is our best leg spinner then what was Cheeka thinking of when he picked up Chawla for the WC (Valson didn't play a game for India in 1983, Chawla did!). THE Amit Mishra was picked up for the England series (but never played). And now suddenly we hear of Rahul Sharma.
Manoj Tiwary also comes in this team. The only time I would have taken him in tihs team would be the time when I wanted to see a photo of an extremely constipated guy on a pot. All one can say is that he hasn't rid himself of the ailment.
When one challenged England to come and beat an Indian team in the subcontinent, one wasn't really envisiging about this Indian team. India still may beat England (Anderson not coming to India is like Dracula not visiting a Church). But with Vinay Kumar around one is very very sure that India will make it difficult for itself.
Selection meetings in India are like porn. They never satisfy all the concerned parties but still manage to titilate viewers.
Amen!!
The first meeting of the new look Indian selection committee
is underway on an auspicious day and time per You Know Who’s astrologer with
all selectors wearing yellow India Cement jerseys. The new selectors are
supposed to take an oath of allegiance to You know who (YKW from here on) before
joining the committee. The oath goes thus, “Chennai is my country, India Cement
is my father and all CSK players are my brothers and sisters….”. Sanjay Jagdale
is the first one to take his oath. Being as well known and well spoken as the
MP Chief Minister Shivraj Patil, he takes it almost invisibly and inaudibly. Mohinder
Amarnath is the next in line. The same legend, who helped India win the WC, around the same
time when the Industrial revolution was taking roots.
Amarnath solemnly approaches the podium, mimicking his
bowling run up, clears his throat and says, “Friends, as you are well aware, I
am an entertainer par excellence. Many of you may have watched me on National
Television making a song and dance about various things, mostly Hindi songs and
the 1753 cricket WC. I will take this opportunity to present my humble
credentials as a talented selector by singing a song instead of the standard
oath. Here goes!”
(For our non Hindi speaking readers, the remaining article is
going to be like a lot of bouncers that Mohinder himself faced during his
playing career)
“Dear YKW, this is for you. Remember your invitation sent to
me to join the selection committee?” YKW tries to protest but Mohinder
continues, “I know you didn’t say it in so many words, but what to do, I tend
to understand people’s feelings only via Hindi songs, singing which, as you are
aware, is my lifelong passion. It felt very much like you were cooing –
'Jimmy Jimmy
Jimmy, aaja aaja aaja,
Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy, aaja aaja aaja'.
Jimmy takes a deep breath after that masterful performance
and continues:
“Cheeka may have conveyed similar feelings to you in his
English that is as good as my singing, but I am a rustic lad from the North of
Vindhyas. Please appreciate my feelings in this song.
'Teri
Meherbaniyan, teri kadardaniyan,
Kurbaan tuzpe
hai, kai jindaganiyan,iyan aaoooooo'
Finished with this dazzling performance, Jimmy was quick to
add, “YKW, I am not sure whether in this movie the owner is singing paeans to
his dog or vice versa but please appreciate my feelings behind this song.”
Most selectors were aware of Jimmy’s bowling talent first
hand but they had not seen him up close and personal displaying his howling
talent. Even Cheeka looks lost for words.
“But always remember my oath that I will be taking here in
front of all you dear friends –
'Chennai
se aya mera boss
Boss
ko salaam karo
Wo
jo kehta hai karo
Baki
sab ko goli maaro'
Jimmy cast a look across his spellbound audience. They
looked exactly like how they did when given the gagging orders by YKW.
“You know, I tried for ages to become a coach of this Indian
team but somehow I was always overlooked. Even Tusshaarr Kapoor has been
considered for a 5 minute role more times than I for the coach’s role. I always
gave vent to my feelings to my wife every night. I don’t know why she prefers
to spend her time with Himesh now days. This is what I used to sing to her
during the good old days –
‘Yashomati
maiya se bole Nandalala
Fletcher
kyon gora mein kyo kaala’
“Everyone will want
to know what is my vision for the future of Indian cricket? But before that I
would like to sing a little song to my old friend Cheeka –
‘Tu
kal chala jayega to mein kya karoonga
Tu
yaad bahut aayega to mein kya karoongaaaaaaa.’
“People have been talking about the ageing line up of our
team. I am not sure whether I should be singing ‘Buddha hoga tera Baap’ or ‘Chodo
kal ki baatein, kal ki baat purani’ but every time our team fails, I will sing
them patriotic songs to motivate them.”
“I will try and do my best to keep all our selection
meetings cheerful. Some may even call me a joker. But to them, I would like to
recite the following song –
‘
Kehta
hai Joker saara zamana
Thodi Hakiqat zyada fasaana’
Jai Hind!”
Jimmy walks back to his seat in a stunned silence followed by strange wailings and hysterical shouts from the audience
Selection meetings are going to be far more musical in the
future. All the best Jimmy. May you do a better job than your commentating
career and your predecessor (that's not going to be too tough is it?)
P.S. One is aware that the CM of MP is not Shivraj Patil but Shivraj errrr... ummm... some Shivraj.
P.S.2. This is an ode to the 80's hindi songs (well many of them atleast) as much as Jimmy's musical talent (watch from minute 2). One has used some original lyrics in some and edited a few others. And one almost forgot that Jimmy Paaji dances brilliantly as well.
It has been reliably learnt that the De Montfort University in Leicester is revoking the ‘honorary’ doctorate conferred by it on MS Dhoni. The University which had praised Dhoni’s exemplary leadership qualities and his achievements before making him an Honorary Doctor of Letters has said that it now believes that MSD actually deserves to be a Medical Doctor instead of an honorary one. The reasons for which the Honorary Doctorate was given, it says, don’t sound too convincing after his team’s performance in England.
It further states that since MSD has attended to all possible types of ailments and injuries in a matter of just about 2 months now has all the skills required to be a GP as well as some other specializations like Orthopedics, ENT, Neurology and Gynecology. It cites Sachin Tendulkar’s fever and upset stomach as a case fit for a GP. Rohit Sharma, Yuvraj Singh, Zak, Bhajji’s fractures/muscle pulls have sharpened his Orthopedic skills, Viru’s ear infection tested his ENT knowledge, Gauti’s head injury was a head ache for him.
After a pregnant pause, the citation states that witnessing so many deliveries from his bowlers, he has the absolute right to be called a Gynecologist.
What the citation has failed to mention is that Dr. Dhoni's patience is running thin with so many patients around him.
It has been pointed out by experts that the citation misses another specialization which that he is a practicing veterinarian for all the donkeys in his team. Some other experts pointed out that there were other animals in the team like Praveen Kumar (workhorse) and Raina (chicken).
When a wag commented that the only thing MSD hasn’t been credited with specializing in was being a psychiatrist, it was pointed out that players with psychological problems fell only in the English domain and Andrew Strauss holds that degree after experiencing first hand Marcus Trescothick and Michael Yardy.
NC has also learnt that the University maybe offering a peace prize to BCCI. After being slapped on one Cheeka, it is still offering the same Cheeka again.
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