Update: Cricket

I've crawled up to being the highest scorer last evening (after being sent at 91/6) but am not yet there to win a match single handedly...

(Click on the picture for a zoomed in view or view the results here )

Of Achieving Your Childhood Dream

Time: Somewhere between 1995-1997.
Location: Colony* road outside Trikona park in Naveen Shahdara, Delhi.
(*: Yes, in India we call it the colony and not the neighborhood!!)

Growing up in India in the 90s, not many kids of my age could have escaped the exploits of one 5 ft 5" batsman called Sachin Tendulkar. Fewer still could resist dreaming playing like him - hitting huge sixes off the best opposition bowlers, winning games for the country and at the very least play in a professional cricket team. I was just one of the millions who was captivated by our national religion - Cricket. I have always dreamt of playing professional cricket and hitting the winning runs after rescuing my team from the ditches.

I believe cricket in India has two types of devotees - one sect practices and plays the game religiously (players) while for the other missing a game of their favorite team is akin to sacrilege (fans). Fans do become players at time but all players are, by definition, fans of the game. I can easily claim to be fan all my life but never a consistent player who made it to any team of consequence whatsoever.

Truth be told - of the three components of the game I suck at bowling. While in my teens, I used to go around the colony with my bat collecting other folks of my age and urging them to play. Being the only Bengali kid in the neighborhood, the term overshadowed my real name. Bengali, as I was commonly known, was the kid who would play cricket at midnight if called. However, galli cricket can hardly be an isolationist game in India - the big college guys (and some working men too) forced themselves upon us whenever we (the teens) played. It was annoying since it meant that I could never be the captain and never choose to bowl. Years of playing under senior bhaiya captains meant I never got a chance to bowl consistently. I was playing only because I probably owned the best bat in the colony.

My only chance of salvaging any token pride was to play well with the bat. And here too I had issues - the big college folks bowled real fast for someone a decade younger to them. Consistent failures with the bat did not help and my frustrations were on the verge of exploding until that one evening. The sun shining in my eyes from behind the bowler on the hot summer afternoon, I was the last batsman left from my team facing the best bowler in the colony. The target - 15 runs. Balls left - 3. Batsman on strike - Mr. Good for Nothing. The bowler, mocking me all this while, asked the fielders to close in on me. I clearly remember at that moment something snapped inside me. I saw the bowl coming towards me, stepped out, closed my eyes and gave the wildest heave ever. As I tried to balance myself after the audacious shot, I could see the ball sailing long over long on for SIX!! It felt great but I hardly had the time to rejoice. The bowler, fuming and charging, wanted revenge. The ball was full and my swing of the arms complete and ho ho - another SIX. I won the game with a confident four off the last delivery and that was the day I told myself - I can bat. I can be my own Tendulkar.

Fast forward to the current day.

Time: May 2008
Location: McLean, VA - United States.

It was through a chance conversation with a neighbor that I came to know of a corporate cricket team which competes in the Washington DC League. He invited me for practice since I always relished playing with the real leather ball.

On my first day of practice, I was tense and confirmed that nothing had changed with my bowling over the last decade - I still suck big time. However, it felt good to face deliveries with bowlers steaming at the net practice. When I mentioned to the folks there that it was the first time I was playing with full cricketing gear of pads, helmet, gloves, etc. they simply did not believe me and laughed it off. Somehow the first practice and people not taking me seriously took me back a decade. The next week I was more relaxed and wanting nothing more but to hit the ball from the sweet part of the bat for a SIX. And nothing had changed there too - I could still hit a six. Over the next couple of weeks I punished the short bad ball but was having trouble respecting the good length delivery. Overall, I started having a great time during practice and eagerly awaited the sessions all week round. In all honesty, I did not expect to play but what the heck - I could play real cricket at least on one evening every week!

And then it happened last week. After seeing my batting for a few weeks (and due to some regular players ditching out that week), the captain walked up and asked me to join the team for a game over the weekend. Of course I could not refuse but more importantly it somehow gave me immense satisfaction and excitement. I was the second highest scorer for the team during the game but still we lost our fourth straight game this season. While this is not the Indian team I am playing for, it still has all masala I have always dreamt of.

Driving back from Baltimore that Saturday evening, I realized that although I had lost the game by throwing away my wicket at a critical time, I had won the ability to dream again- a dream to win a game for MY team. I realize that I can tick off a big item from my "List of To-do things before I die" in the coming weeks.

ps: This article is dedicated to Prof. Randy Pausch who through his teachings at Carnegie Mellon and his last lecture "Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" has and will continue to inspire many a lives. Randy, the day I win my match, I promise I will remember how much this lecture has influenced me.