Only Few Would Know, How It Feels
On the midnight of 2nd of April 2011, I wrote this piece. What followed the next day was known to all, as they say, it went into the history books. Gambhir played a superb innings and Dhoni finished the match.
Today, 8 years later, while I type this, Federer is one set down against Nishikori at the Wimbledon. But I am not sad for him, even after being a fan of him since more than a decade and half. Because something bigger has happened. I left office, still unable to process what had just happened. I entered the Metro Train, then the local train, trying to see of others around me are equally sad. But I was not able to guess anything. May be, I was not in that state of mind to judge anyone.
1992 was when I started understanding and watching Cricket. And as a kid, who grew up in the 90s, I am familiar with the heartbreaks that the Indian team gifted us, time and again. It was just one man in the team performing while rest were resting on his shoulders. As if 1996 was not enough, we had to bear 1999 World Cup pain too. Again, that one man, the little master was their to our rescue.
By 2003, we had a lion of skipper who was leading us. And as usual, the little master rose to the occasion and top scored. We won all our matches except 2, against the same team, one of them were the finals. Heartbreak continued.
2007 World Cup got over before we realized. The heartbreak didn't even felt real. Then the mantle was given to a low profile player from Jharkhand who was making all the right noises. He gave us the first flavor of a World Cup win after 1983, even if it was of a T20 tournament.
Then it was 2011. I have traveled a lot since 1992 as a avid Cricket fan to almost a indifferent one without showing my inherent weakness towards each match result. And the moment arrived. We held the World Cup in our hands after 28 years. The little master, after years of toiling, got his hands on this trophy.
The team that got built after 2011 World Cup was probably the best we have had in many years, especially after the departure of the Big 5. By 2015, we were finding our groove. We won all our league games, only to lose in the Semi Finals. It was tough to accept, but moved on. We started becoming stronger as team even more and started winning territories we never did before.
2019 came and we were probably the strongest team entering the World Cup. And we did prove it. We won every game except one and topped the table.
Today is 10th of July, 2019, which saw a World Cup Semi Final spilling over two days. Difficult conditions to bat. Top class bowling and some superb fielding by the opposition. We did try, may be not to our full potential, but we hung in there, with 1.3 billion hearts stopping at each passage of play.
In the end, we could not cross the line. And our wait continues. Four more years. The heartbreak of a fan is only known to himself/herself. No one else can comprehend it. We invest in this game, for years, we make this game what it is, the game that is a part of our life.
May be that is the reason, I woke up today and checked the weather at Manchester before I did anything else. And I ended the day, with a call to my oldest Cricket watching companion, my father.
Baba, what did we do?
I am having dinner.
We threw it away.
How is the kid?
It was our game.
Is it raining there?
Yes it is.
Okay. You go home, we will speak tomorrow.
The heartbreak was everywhere.
Today, 8 years later, while I type this, Federer is one set down against Nishikori at the Wimbledon. But I am not sad for him, even after being a fan of him since more than a decade and half. Because something bigger has happened. I left office, still unable to process what had just happened. I entered the Metro Train, then the local train, trying to see of others around me are equally sad. But I was not able to guess anything. May be, I was not in that state of mind to judge anyone.
1992 was when I started understanding and watching Cricket. And as a kid, who grew up in the 90s, I am familiar with the heartbreaks that the Indian team gifted us, time and again. It was just one man in the team performing while rest were resting on his shoulders. As if 1996 was not enough, we had to bear 1999 World Cup pain too. Again, that one man, the little master was their to our rescue.
By 2003, we had a lion of skipper who was leading us. And as usual, the little master rose to the occasion and top scored. We won all our matches except 2, against the same team, one of them were the finals. Heartbreak continued.
2007 World Cup got over before we realized. The heartbreak didn't even felt real. Then the mantle was given to a low profile player from Jharkhand who was making all the right noises. He gave us the first flavor of a World Cup win after 1983, even if it was of a T20 tournament.
Then it was 2011. I have traveled a lot since 1992 as a avid Cricket fan to almost a indifferent one without showing my inherent weakness towards each match result. And the moment arrived. We held the World Cup in our hands after 28 years. The little master, after years of toiling, got his hands on this trophy.
The team that got built after 2011 World Cup was probably the best we have had in many years, especially after the departure of the Big 5. By 2015, we were finding our groove. We won all our league games, only to lose in the Semi Finals. It was tough to accept, but moved on. We started becoming stronger as team even more and started winning territories we never did before.
2019 came and we were probably the strongest team entering the World Cup. And we did prove it. We won every game except one and topped the table.
Today is 10th of July, 2019, which saw a World Cup Semi Final spilling over two days. Difficult conditions to bat. Top class bowling and some superb fielding by the opposition. We did try, may be not to our full potential, but we hung in there, with 1.3 billion hearts stopping at each passage of play.
In the end, we could not cross the line. And our wait continues. Four more years. The heartbreak of a fan is only known to himself/herself. No one else can comprehend it. We invest in this game, for years, we make this game what it is, the game that is a part of our life.
May be that is the reason, I woke up today and checked the weather at Manchester before I did anything else. And I ended the day, with a call to my oldest Cricket watching companion, my father.
Baba, what did we do?
I am having dinner.
We threw it away.
How is the kid?
It was our game.
Is it raining there?
Yes it is.
Okay. You go home, we will speak tomorrow.
The heartbreak was everywhere.
Comments
Goes to prove that not everything in this dustbin is trash ��