When God leaves fraternity, there is an unearthed celebration within the veins of mourning.
I have to admit that his departure from the game will bring a platonic end to the childhood within myself. My passion persists for the game notwithstanding, feels like a great amount of melancholy lies within the era that saw us emerging as world champions as the Master plundered, conquered and steered us through abundant pride amidst crazy chaos.
119 in Manchester, 114 in Perth, 169 in Cape Town, 134 & 143 in Sharjah, 155 in Chennai and Bloemfontein, 141 in Dhaka, 136 in Chennai, 217 in Ahmedabad, 176 in Nagpur, 193 in Leeds, 176 in Kolkata, 241 in Sydney, 141 in Rawalpindi, 194 in Multan, 141 in Kuala Lumpur, 153 in Adelaide, 163 in Christchurch, 160 in Hamilton, 175 in Hyderabad, 203 in Colombo, 214 Bangalore.
These epics were stunning exhibition of his rhetoric dynamics and appetite for big match mantles. Not to forget, his World Cup exploits remain at the helm as he plundered oppositions at a spectacular 65+ of an innings (includes his powerhouse 90-ish against Pakistan and his menacing run in 2003 edition that took the tournament by storm).
Geographies, pitches, weather conditions and opponents bowed for his unwavering blade and wider were his array of strokes. 53 of his tons fetched India sublime victories at an average of just below 60. Stunning and staggering! Yet, our maniac ridden cricketing world asks for more as he continued to deliver with the caricature that defined Sachin-ism.
Cricket will never be the same without him.
why have we made such a fuss about a mere cricket player who is just about 5 feet above the ground level, has endorsements to his name just like any other superstar celebrity world over would and tweet our heart out on his every morning siesta lasting till end of night?
well, if the cricketer in question is Sachin, then he is a far cry from our usual cricketers that hog the limelight and get swayed off it. Sheer tenacity to last and bat since 1989, plunder runs in every cricket ground of the world, carrying monumental aspirations of a nation that goes insane over cricketing overhauls and a career that has always been under the scanner for every move he makes (on and off the field), he remains our legend of a fairy tale.
for a while, lets not talk about his on field aura, for now that is. he makes news if he tows, sneezes and gulps. his personal preferences become national gimmicks. his stature provokes a coaxial movement that forces the constitution to enhance a mandate and a rival cricketing continent endows their most coveted prize upon him.
well, the story has just begun. almost re-written every batting milestone, 70% of Indian victories during 1995-2010 had his proverbial knocks of extreme bliss, his ton would hand over an Indian victory 6 out of 10 times. 55% of his tons have come on foreign soil and has given us a win-lose ratio of 4:6. we don’t keep a count of his MOMs any more and he has scored more world cup runs than anyone else who has played Cricket in this planet. comparisons with ‘The Don’ and his failure to become the most wanted leader that India kept searching in him ran in tandem veins. yet, he remains a symbol of solidarity. for the ‘Country’ and ‘Cricket’.
phew, yet his career remains scrutinized. now we ask for his head, demand him to hang up his boots as few of his shots in the (in)ceremonious IPL can give any youngster a run for his moolah!
As someone rightly stated – “legends are not born, they come screeching out of the womb with a stick in hand to rule the world and hit themselves when they are down, a-la phoenix act.”
Glad, you are 40! you deem to become wiser and one step ahead in embracing immortality.
As events come to a close with 2011, I have been quite evasive in introspection (though it has never been a forte). Me, to remain as I, has been a conflict of sorts with battling aspirations.
I am denying a dud of a 2011 but have my reservations to claim it as an accomplishing one. Fighting yourself is a greater challenge than fighting tangible components of physical influences. Your capabilities slew away from your inhibitions to confront questions of meagre yet astounding nature. Few, I answered. Few, I am struggling to. Many, I cease to avoid with timid corners.
With all the cordial occurrence in close quarters, I got to know myself better. I suffer from self inflicted supreme chaotic syndrome, and honestly, bear this possession with titanic pride. Moreover, realised that PPP (patience, perseverance, potent) have become my ferocious allies with seldom prick. I battle, get down, again battle, fend but not brood (I am guilty of not acquiring this attribute in it’s infancy) and decide to have faith in abilities with the right compass.
As 2011 eclipses and 2012 surfaces unsurmountable desires, I prepare to get myself equipped with instincts of my own.
As I enter the memphis amidst self, I take the onus on me to wish all my readers, a courageous and phantom 2012!
I wish all my quantified readers, a delightful, accomplishing and sedate 2011!