2S
Techie. Writer. Photographer.
Archive for September, 2007
September 29, 2007 at 10:32 am · Filed under bangalore, personal, photoblog
05.00 am - I arrive at the Chinnaswamy Stadium - Gate 11 - to purchase tickets (they were being sold at Gate 1, the distance between them, about a kilometer).
There are around 600 people in front of me. Some were sleeping against the same wall others urinate on. Most of them didn’t look like they would come for the match anyway, probably spending the night to make a quick buck on the ticket. Some die-hard fans had come in the tricolor as if it were the match itself.
06.00 am - There’s a bit of a buzz now, and there’s a guy who’s arrived there to sell coffee and some snacks. He doesn’t change his price. People are grateful for a cup of warm, blessed coffee on a chilly Bangalore morning. The cops have finished their drills and are now lining people up.
07.00 am - The first signs of trouble break out. People who tried to sneak into the queues were first talked at, then shoved away. Not a single soul kept mum on the incident. This was more than just a queue. A passer-by would think that our lives depended on it.
Speaking of morning joggers, a rather awkward looking firang who can’t keep his head straight runs about. He gives a quizzical look, almost as if he hasn’t seen many brown people together before. He asks the cops about it. The cop replies and Mr. French still has one clarification. ‘What is cricket?’
The queue is stunned.
08.00 am - They are already selling tickets at the other counters. And they merged my queue with the 200 buck one. Guess what? Did I mention 600? There are about 1500 ahead of me now, easily, after the merger. Crap. A TV9 reporter and a cameraman arrive at the scene. The media is capable of anything. The reporter is dramatizing it as if we were the crowd outside Shaheed Bhagat Singh’s execution, although in numbers, we did give that crowd a run for their money.
09.00 am - Our ticket-counter opens, mercifully, and the queue starts crawling. Based on initial calculations, by the time we get our tickets, it would be about 12 noon. I can’t wait that long. I started looking around for people.
10.00 am - A ‘friend’ walks by, suggesting that he had an extra ticket. I made the purchase, he made his profit, and I drove to work with a ticket in the pocket and a sense of satisfaction all inside of me.
Later, I found out, 30000 tickets in 3 hours.
Why all the trouble? Simple - there are a few things in life that I would go through all this for, even daily, if needed. The crisp smell of the turf. The spirit of cricket all around me. The warmth of our country’s people all around me. And an environment where people forget their race, religion and culture, and simply pour into the stands like rivers of passion to cheer for their home team.
All roads in this part of the world lead to only one place today. India take on the might of the Oz at Bangalore, in a few hours from now.
The Chinnaswamy wicket always had a bit of grass on it. Wickets will be there for the taking. Expect a good battle between bat and ball.
I shall make the move right away as the KSCA have oversold. Ciao. Match on.
September 27, 2007 at 2:18 am · Filed under bollywood
- and people haven’t been pleased. There’s been speculation, and shitloads of ifs and buts. The President of the Association of Motion Pictures and TV programmes, Pahlaj Nihalani, went on record suggesting that it was disgraceful.
Some reckon Chak De India was a better entrant - considering it was a bigger success. I ask these guys to just zip their ideas to themselves. Chak De, while it entertained as hell, is not what ought to represent India at the Oscars. Nope. Not by a long shot.
Not that Eklavya is the best - I have atleast two flicks that I would’ve sent to the Oscars if I was in the armchair - but here’s why Eklavya was picked. To begin with, the movie has a very authentic Indian feel to it - from the costumes, to the sets, to the plot. It was artistically more attractive, it lacked overdramatization and, well, in hindsight, it was a tad short of perfection as far as film-making goes. The Eklavya-Pigeon scene, for instance, is the perfect moment to showcase that little lost magic in the heart of India. Would certainly appeal more to the folks at the Oscars, over eleven women running around with hockey sticks.
And then, there’s the Bollywood scene of the year for me - VVC’s touch of brilliance - plunging the audience into darkness for nearly two minutes as we were left wondering if Inox had acted up.
But, seriously, while Eklavya might look like the right choice as far as technicality is concerned, atleast two movies that released this year were way, way better, simply because of the loyalty to the plot. And the performances in these movies - especially the protagonists - were awesome.
Yep. Spot on. I’m talking about Black Friday and Parzania. I’m not sure how many of you have actually seen them, but if you haven’t, you’re missing something.
Both these movies told real-life stories that left us wondering. They’re thought-provoking. They’re the kind of flicks that leave lasting imprints in one’s memories. I ask you - what’s the prime motive behind a movie? Showcase art? Entertain? Action? Irrespective of genre, the one thing that binds movies together - even mindless (not mindless) laugh-riots that Priyadarshan offers - is the story.
Every movie tells a story. These two movies not just talked about very intense incidents, but did full justice to them. Black Friday, in particular, was nothing short of a masterpiece, and moreso, it had Indian Ocean lending the music - perfection as far as capturing the moment is concerned. The film-makers have been through a lot to actually get the flicks to the theaters - they had the balls to persist with the project amid speculation and criticism. It all, of course, is reflected on-screen in the class they both offer.
So, while I am disappointed that Black Friday didn’t get picked, I’m a tad pleased that we didn’t lick the box-office’s rear by sending one of our hit flicks to the Oscars.
And, if you ask me, I give a damn about the Oscars in the first place. In fact, I would’ve detested them - just that they finally gave Scorcese his due this year.
Not that Vidhu Vinod Chopra agrees at this moment, but hey ; - )
September 24, 2007 at 11:20 pm · Filed under cricket
The champagne is oozing all over the place. The graffitti is flying, Everyone are getting a hand on the trophy! Dhoni has it in his hands! SRK comes along and wishes each and every player, hugs them. Quite a sight, a versace-clad SRK hugging the sweaty team. Who cares? Chak de India! The world watches as India rule T20. They’re standing across a board that goes: champions.
With that textual scene, I’ll leave you, because simply put, I needn’t say more. India are the T20 champions. This, by far, has been the happiest day in the history of Indian cricket in recent times. And for me too.
Hope you enjoyed the commentary. Until next time around, this is Sandy signing off. Apologies for not being able to replicate the scenes out there on text, though. For once in ages, I’m at loss for words.
Goodbye!
Presentation
Ravi: A big thank you to all the players, officials, broadcasters - one massive event. A match worthy of a final. They got all the subcontinental spice to the party. Congratulations to the Indian team.
I’d like to call up the ICC match officials to come up: Ranjan Madugalle, Simon Taufel, Mark Benson, Darryl Harper, Billy Doctrove. Well done gentlemen.
The Pakistani team come up, in alphabetical order … and now, Shoaib Malik
Always difficult to be on the losing side.
Shoaib Malik: I want to thank you Pakistan and wherever Muslims live all around the world. Sorry, we gave our 100% and our team gave our 100%, I want to thank them.
India have a strong batting line up, and our plan was to restrict them to 150. We did that, but our batting line-up wasn’t up to it. It wasn’t pressure, we played a few bad shots.
We enjoyed this Twenty20 tournament, our guys played very well. We have a series against South Africa and InshaAllah we’ll work hard to win again.
The man of the match - Irfan Pathan!
Ravi: Excellent figures, Irfan. Outstanding performance. You were under a bit of pressure.
Pathan: MashaAllah it’s a great feeling. Obviously when I came, I was under a bit of pressure, but I held my nerve. It was a bit slow, I was holding a bit bowling split-finger slow ones. I had to bowl many slower ones, they were going after the bowling.
Ravi: What was going through the player’s mind?
Pathan: Pressure! (Laughs) I think Joginder bowled well, not just him, they all bowled well - RP, Bhajji, we fielded pretty well, we batted well, we deserved it after the World Cup
The player of the tournament: Shahid Afridi!
Ravi: Well, Shahid, disappointed?
Shahid Afridi: First of all, I want to thank Almighty Allah, winning and losing doesn’t matter, we played great cricket. Congratulations to India and the Indian Nations (whatever that is). The atmosphere is great, and I want to mention one more thing, before the tournament, my friend Salim said you will be the man of the tournament. This (the medal) is for him!
And now, the Indian team collect their medals. The crowd erupt when Yuvraj’s name is announced! They go entirely berserk when Dhoni’s name is announced! Too many Singhs in the side …
Ravi: Congrats, MS! How does it feel?
Dhoni: It’s one of the things I’ve achieved in the last three years, a treasure for my whole life. Thanks, boys, for the effort and for the response. No one expected us to win, and the way we have won, we deserve a big celebration.
Ravi: Pakistan did well to restrict you to 150?
Dhoni: Arafat and Gul bowled well, but we know that we scored 150. They have to make it. Chasing, pressure, it was going to be hard.
Ravi: Joginder, Harbhajan, why Joginder?
Dhoni: Bhajji wasn’t 100% sure, Jogi wanted to do well at the international level. Surely, now, T20 will catch up in India. After the way we departed from the World Cup, this will do the repair work for some time. We have Australia and Pakistan visiting us!
BCCI REWARDS! A CRORE FOR YUVRAJ SINGH for the sixers! TWO MILLION DOLLARS FOR THE TEAM! There goes my tax, sigh …
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The channel in question was Aaj Tak. Bhajji and co. are doing the jig on the grounds, back to ESPN now. These are great pictures, for anyone who is still reading (I don’t expect many), tune into ESPN right now!
Why is the presentation taking so long? Dhoni, probably, is getting the shirt back on. In fact, he’s put up a sleeveless jersey and then a gesture of thanks to the Pakistani team. Both teams played this with great goodwill.
SRK has his SLR with him, and he’s clicking away.
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I’ll be back with the presentation commentary soon. Incidentally, I was there at the Chinnaswamy stadium in Bangalore at 5.00 am to pick up tickets for the India-Oz match. Can’t wait, now! More on that incident later, because …
I need to lock up the woman at my home, who is - incidentally - my mother. She’s gone absolutely crazy with excitement, and (oh God!) switched channels to watch the news! That crime called for quick action.
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One must feel for Pakistan, they played extremely well throughout. Everyone has been ranting about India’s dismal World Cup, but few realise the damage to Pakistan. They had their coach murdered, and they lost Inzy as a captain. To have recovered from the trench of failure, is no mean feat. Full credit to Pakistan for making this tournament, and this match, memorable as ever.
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A fitting finale in the end, and a gripping match of cricket. T20 is here to stay, it’s power-packed, it’s fun, it’s entertainment - and now - it’s India’s :-) Imagine what this does for the T20 circuit back home! The BCCI have loads to do, for now they’ll bask in the glory of picking a great team.
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A couple of Emirates Airlines airhostesses bring the trophy. Meanwhile, Yuvraj is on top of another player, oh, that’s Sehwag? For a moment it looked like the gay-pride-parade, but then sanity is restored. Indian brotherhood.
Dhoni is topless!, he’s lost the shirt!
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The phones are ringing, the neighbors are ecstatic! Hindus, Muslims, Atheists, everyone are out there bursting crackers! This is, by far, the happiest moment in recent times for Indian cricket. Yusuf Pathan hugs the flag. There’s not a single Pakistani out there on the camera! Can you believe it?
Misbah ul Haq just scoops it up in the air, would you believe it? He smashes a six, SURELY he would back himself to score another boundary straight down the ground?
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Can you believe this? Chasing 157, Pakistan made a whole mess of it and the men in blue pull off an amazing victory! The fireworks have gone off at the Wanderers and in my backyard to! This isn’t the Ganesh festival, it’s India winning the T20 World Cup!
India are doing the victory round at the Wanderers in the meantime. A great team, a great captain! Dhoni looks the part - those locks running all around! Bhajji points the flag at the crowd! One of the happiest moments in cricketing history for the nation.
19.3 - Sharma to Haq, OUT! Scooped to Sreesanth at fine-leg and India have won the Twenty20 WORLD CUP! They’re through!
What a shot under pressure! My fingers have gone cold though …
19.2 - Sharma to Haq, SIX!, straight down the ground and it’s gone all the way! 6 to win from four now!
19.1 - Sharma to Haq, played and missed! It was width and it was offered, Misbah would be disappointed with that. 12 to win from 5.
19.1 - Sharma to Haq, WIDE! What a criminal ball first up! How crucial is that? What’s with Sharma and the last over?
What a match this has been! Not bored one bit, RP Singh is stunned! Asif celebrates. 13 from one over, you would back Pakistan and Misbah-ul-Haq against Bhajji here. Sharma will bowl it.
19.0 - RP Singh to Asif, FOUR!, edged and it runs down to third-man! 13 required from the last over! Match on! 145-9
India heave a sigh of relief, but Misbah ul Haq will play the final over. Asif will have to keep this ball out. His favourite shot is anywhere for six. That’ll do for Pak!
18.5 - RP Singh to Gul, OUT!, you miss, I hit, and leg-stump goes out for a little smoke. RP Singh delivering when needed. India one wicket away from victory, within a whisker!
I’ve already lost fingernails this tournament. Am down to the skin.
18.4 - RP Singh to Haq, single, he gets a glove to it. Misbah was eyeing the short boundary.
18.3 - RP Singh to Haq, louud shout! Not out! India go up! Cat and mouse … Simon Taufel under pressure!
18.2 - RP Singh to Gul, missed but they run across for a single. RP isn’t happy.
18.1 - RP Singh to Haq, run down to third man for a single. It’s Misbah versus India, yet again. Are we on couse for another bowl-out? 1000 bucks looks like mine for the taking, Jerry did place a bet, interestingly.
Umar Gul comes out to the middle to bat. Haq is on strike. RP Singh returns for the penultimate over.
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September 24, 2007 at 11:01 pm · Filed under cricket, personal
I was always the odd-job guy. Did a bit of everything - tech, writing, camerawork, and even arranging indoor cricket at office. On late-nighters and weekends, I transformed our office cubicles to fielding positions, and my team-lead would practice a few catches. The wireless keyboard became a bat, two files mounted on each other were the stumps, and fielders were found in the form of plants, printers and desks.
We were about eight of us, and most were into their late 20s or early 30s. I was the youngest, the kiddo. I was also the most passionate about the game. But at that moment in office, in the middle of the night, we were kids again. And we loved cricket, more than anything else that ever mattered.
So when I got an opportunity to accompany a freelance journalist to do a bit of camerawork for TV9, I jumped. It was the first time with the media, and here I was at the Zayed Cricket Stadium in Abu Dhabi for the DLF cup, plugging in my laptop, setting up the wireless connection. I was in awe of the surroundings - wherever I looked, there were pros. The CricInfo commentators, folks from Times of India, the Star TV cameramen. I was understandably nervous.
I thought I’d take a leak and rushed to the restrooms. A few seconds later, a firang walked in, talking on the phone. Where have you been, Sanjay? Oh, alright, that’ll be fine. I didn’t need to look up to know how it was. Deano was a feet away, taking a leak too. Ali Zaffar, the Pakistani popstar, was running his hands through his hair, looking at himself in the mirror. This was the friendship cup - loads of goodwill on the cards.
We had the press badges for just a day, and were more than keen to make the most of it. We took off, interviewing fans and celebrities alike. I did a few bites as well - and a memorable special thirty-second moment I compiled with kids from a school, where they all quoted their favourite cricketer, one after the other. Dhoni, by then, had infected their hearts.
And there was this gorgeous Indian girl, her face glowing in the tri-colour. There’s something about women and patriotism when they go tother. We spoke to her, and she could only say ‘marry me Yuvraj’. I did mention to her that Yuvraj Singh, at that time, was going out with Kim Sharma. I was, of course, fishing more than reporting or spreading awareness.
India lost that match, but for me, it was more than successful. It rekindled dreams of journalism, and more importantly, it made me happy - happier like I’ve never been before. Out there, on the turf, as the cameras flashed and the players and officials scrambled to bring some order to the chaos, I could’ve sworn I belonged there. I was clicking away too, furiously, while shooting enough videos to fill a hard disk or two. We rushed, as we did earlier, clipped the video, tuned the audio, and uploaded it on the remote server.
I also made my way into the press-conference. I popped the same question to Rahul and Inzy, then the captains. ‘Do you think this friendship idea really works, or is it a way of fabricating goodwill at the surface for the people?’. Later, I was told it was a bold question - I still hadn’t been injected with the fright and sensibility of knowing what to ask. Inzy replied very dryly, suggesting that the sport is the one thing that could bridge the gap between the countries. Rahul was diplomatic - he reiterated the focus on the team while disarmingly drifting away from the questions.
Those two never made it to the crowd. They never knew what it was like to grow up as an Indian among Pakistanis, and support your team with a thousand others. They had no idea of how the fans resorted to religion - screaming Ganapati Bappa Morya or La-ilaaha-illAllah at will, in the stands. There was as much goodwill in the stands as there would be on a battlefield. In retrospect, I’m glad they shied away from the question. Atleast they didn’t lie.
I walked out with the other reporters, wishing real bad if I could pop in the next day too, for the second match. A european woman - mid 30s - walked up to me and complimented the questioned I popped. She asked me who I worked for. I didn’t know what to reply, so I just shrugged and pointed at the badge. “I’m a freelancer.”
“Oh? That’s good. Well, see you tomorrow.”
“I don’t think I would be around tomorrow.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“I had the pass for today only. I’m not covering it tomorrow.” I tried to make it sound like I was busy the next day.
“What? But what if you get some time tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Here, give me your badge.”
She stamped it for the next day as well. “If you find time, do drop in.”
I waved goodbye, and as I looked back at her, those pair of foreign eyes had just one thing to say - “I know how much you love this game”. She had seen through me. She knew, for sure, that I wasn’t a reporter. I was just another Indian fan in the ocean.
You can all bet your rear that I was there the next day.
I had cursed the media hype earlier, and I still do, but I came across a few genuine journalists whose life’s objectives were simple: bring the game to the country. They slogged it out there, running around with their cameras and mikes, enjoying the fact that they were bringing those pictures live to a billion people around the world. On that day, I also realised the power of the media. I could walk in, wherever I wanted, through any commando or security-check, and I wouldn’t be questioned.
And then, I realised, how the country had succumbed to this power. And it continues to. And it will.
Here are a few personal shots I managed from my point-and-shoot around the stands and on the turf.
September 23, 2007 at 11:19 am · Filed under cricket
Whoever said that this was a gentleman’s game, in all certainty, had no idea of the existence of two teams that defied it entirely. The Asian stalwarts pack nothing short of over two-hundred percent intensity every time they meet each other, and though it’s all jolly off the field, the turf - momentarily - turns into a battlefield.
A quick trip down memory lane, if you like, on some of the closest matches between these two teams. These are cricketing memories that will go down with me to the grave.
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Austral-Asia Cup Final, 18 April 1986 - Sharjah
Mom was sitting first-row in the stands when Javed Miandad creamed Chetan Sharma over the leg-side for maximum. I was hardly three, a toddler - didn’t even know the difference between right and wrong (and still don’t, ironically). What I figured out years later from a rented video courtesy Ten Sports, was that the ball slipped from Sharma’s hand, and it ended up being a juicy full-toss.
Miandad doesn’t miss many. Chishty Mujahid’s cricketing tongue had worked overtime, losing all subtlety, as the Pakistanis were ecstatic. But, for my family that had moved to the Emirates a few years back, that close finish meant only one thing. The CBFS (Sharjah’s Cricket Stadium and Authority) was a second-home.
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Wills Trophy, 25 October 1991 - Sharjah
If you’re Indian, this match is best forgotten - a stereotype 90s India-Pakistan standoff where the home-team (Pakistan) came out victorious again. Aaqib Javed, then a fearless youth making his way out of the teens, came screaming in to simply demolish the Indian batting (and reputation). After a circumspect start chasing 262 on a wicket that offered assistance to the likes of Younis and Akram, Shastri and Sidhu went after Imran Khan, prompting the first change.
Aaqib Javed had arrived. Sidhu was the first victim, getting a faint nick to Moin Khan. About fifteen runs later, Javed had decided that it was now time to unleash his magic, and then came that memorable hat-trick.
Shastri was the first to go, trapped plumb they said, although from where I was in the stands - square leg - one couldn’t tell. Azza entered, and exited almost immediately, another leg-before-wicket. And then, my hero, a young Sachin Tendulkar, strolled in calmly. Javed was bowling with good pace and was in excellent form. Tendulkar, smartly, was taking his time with the guard, trying to upset the bowler’s rhythm. All in vain, though, as another one crashed into the pads. Eleven Pakistanis on the field (and about a few thousand in the stands) went up in tandem - a huge vocal eruption that asked the question - and the finger went up.
Here I was in the AED 50/- East Stand, then a Pakistani stronghold, completely dumbfounded. All around me, I could see salwar-khamees clad cabbies, screaming in Urdu and Pushto, and then breaking into their Pakistan Zindabads and the Hindustan Murdabads at will. We were both, outnumbered and outplayed, and I made a sad though memorable exit from the stands. If nothing, I had surrendered to the fact that Pakistan’s pace attack, definitely, deserved more respect that hatred.
Wills World Cup Quarter-Final, 9 March 1996 - Bangalore
Batting first, the Indian openers provided a good, strong platform even as Tendulkar was dismissed off an unlucky-inside edge for 31. Sidhu, however, went on to make 93 - but that match had two moments - two overs if you may - that I can recollect at will.
Jadeja was in. Waqar Younis had bowled his toe-crunching yorkers with incredible accuracy. The Indian batsman, however, took to the attack and played one of the finest innings in ODIs ever. Younis was taken to the cleaners, as Jadeja raced to 45 from 25 with two huge sixers at the Chinnaswamy Stadium. Younis had finally got his man, although he finished with figures of 67 from his quota of 10. India, who were looking set to score a tad above 250, had suddenly raced to 287 at the end of their 50, carrying the momentum into the break, half the job done one would think.
But then again, we missed the Pakistani openers’ names, didn’t we? A certain Saeed Anwar, and keeping him company was Aamir Sohail. Need I say more?
The aforementioned demolition squad picked their gaps, went aerial and made mimicry of Srinath and Prasad, the local boys. Bangalore was absolutely stunned at the Pakistani onslaught, until Anwar skied one to Kumble. Srinath, a thorough gentleman, smiled and celebrated with little excitement (especially in comparison to today’s Sreesanths).
But the wicket fired up Venkatesh Prasad, the current Indian team’s bowling coach. More so, it fired him up against Aamir Sohail, and I had never witnessed anything of the sort in International cricket before.
Aamir Sohail screamed one past the covers for four. Prasad gave him a glare - as every fast bowler would - as Sohail pointed his bat towards the fence. Fetch it, the gesture said. Prasad walked back to the run-up, slowly, although the every blood-carrier in the body had concentrated on the face - it was a dusky red. He ran in for the next one, transferring the ball from the left hand to the right midway, before letting it go. It pitched on a good length and cut into Sohail a bit. The batsman missed it, and the ball went crashing into the top of off, meeting its destiny.
And a fiery Prasad gave a now-calm (and silly-looking) Sohail directions to the dressing room at his home ground. A few minutes later, I had started breathing normally. A few hours later, I was celebrating. India had won and were through to the semis, they had overcome the Pakis in a city I called ‘home’. Piping hot pakodas did the rounds at home.
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Silver Jubilee Independence Cup - 3rd Final, 18 January 1998 - Dhaka
India and Pakistan at a neutral venue, again. Wow.
Batting first, Pakistan had amassed 314, the Indian pacers going for above seven an over. This was courtesy two centuries, Saeed Anwar - India’s biggest adversary - had scored 140, and Ejaz Ahmed made 117. Both hundreds were brisk and brutal, leaving India with a challenging task, and in those days, chasing 314 wasn’t just improbable - it was the highest run-chase if made. In hindsight, the Dhaka pitch was as flat as can be, so Ganguly and Tendulkar would have been interested anyhow.
And they were. Ganguly was circumspect, piercing the off-side when the bad ball arrived. Tendulkar, however, screamed to 41 from 26 as Afridi snapped him up. Rashid Latif’s smart gamble had paid off, only just, although Robin Singh took to the attack as well. With Ganguly consolidating, Singh picked up the momentum, scoring at a run-a-ball, before he popped a catch to a eager Aaqib Javed.
And then, India only went downhill. One would think, with the Jadeja dismissal, India were beyond repair, but a Mongia boundary meant that a nail-biter of a finish beckoned. It was down to the last over, and with 3 needed from 2 balls, Kanitkar took guard. Saqlain Mushtaq - a bowler who, with Muralitharan, saved off-spin from extinction - had the ball in the hand. It pitched between middle-and-leg and Kanitkar slog-swept it. A tad aerial, over mid-wicket. Four runs.
Saffron, white and green celebrated. Three Pakistani kids in school were absent the next day. Heads hung in shame at having snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.
ICC World Cup Pool A, 1 March 2003 - Centurion
Remember the ‘greatest moment in the 2003 World Cup’, when Sachin Tendulkar ‘derailed’ the Rawalpindi Express over third man for six? Remember the short defensive block that raced to mid-on for four? Remember India coasting along to 276 in no time, even as Saeed Anwar had (again) scored a century first up?
A scorcher of a bouncer had done the injured Sachin in, but that was only after he picked 98 off a Pakistan attack that boasted of Akram, Younis and Akhtar in an important game. It was left for Dravid and Yuvraj to finish, and they did so in style, Dravid pulling Younis behind square-leg for four. Match in the pocket, Tendulkar was fired-up as ever in the presentation ceremony too, and I can distinctly remember: “We have beaten them before in the World Cup and we will beat them again too.” Heaploads of aggression from a man whose size is inversely proportional to his genius.
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ICC World Twenty20, 14 September 2007 - Kingsmead, Durban
A week back, this.
India lost their top four very cheaply, and it was left to Robin Uthappa to rescue them from nowhere. Mohammed Asif had bowled the spell of the tournament, four wickets in four overs for a miserly 18, as Uthappa looked to attack the lesser-experienced Yasir Arafat who actually had Twenty20 experience in England. Last-minute cameos from Dhoni and Pathan ensured India finished at 141, adding some respectability to the card. It was up to the bowlers now, to contain the Pakistani batsmen at under seven an over on a slippery wicket.
For most of the chase, it seemed that India would get through easily, until Misbah-ul-Haq played the innings of his life. 53 from 37, he nearly did the job, but in a display of complete inanity, the batsman managed to make a mess of what would’ve been a great run-chase, being run out of the last-ball. The match was tied and the first bowl-out I had ever witnessed followed.
We all know what happened after that, don’t we?
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… and many more to come. India and Pakistan has certainly been cricket’s biggest attraction to date. There have been memorable moments, bitter and sweet. But for now, it’s the Twenty20 World Cup Final on Monday.
Wouldn’t miss it for the world.
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