What I love about cricket

Cricket is a game played in only a handful of nations. And even amongst those handful, only 5 or 6 of them can claim to play it with a high degree of quality. Test cricket, the purest form of cricket, is a uniquely weird form of sport. Two teams play the game over 5 days and chances are that even after 5 gruelling days, you won't get a result. I can think of no other game which is based on such an inexplicable concept. Now let's just imagine yourself explaining the game of cricket to a person who doesn't know anything about it. First of all, you would need a few days just to explain all the rules. And there is no guarantee that even after all your efforts, you would succeed in doing a very good job. Secondly, even if your unsuspecting victim has been able to grasp the rules, in all probability, he would proclaim the game of cricket to be singularly boring. And in all fairness, he would be absolutely right.

Just think. At the start of an over, the captain takes a couple of minutes to tell his fielders where to place themselves. Then there would be a general search for the ball. After it is found being juggled around by some playful fielder, the captain would rack his brains as to who he should call on to deliver the ball. This dilemma once solved, the bowler walks back a fair distance from the pitch, reluctantly accepts the ball and starts preparing to hurl the ball at the batsman. His preparations take some time too, as he first flails his arms around like a chimpanzee on hash, then practises by throwing the ball to the fielder at cover a couple of times and then carefully marks the point from where he should start his run up by shovelling away the grass at the point with his spikes. He then finally starts running towards the bowling crease to deliver the ball. And all of this is in vain if the bowler fails to release the ball from within the bowling crease. In such a case, the umpire signals that the bowler is an idiot and that his delivery was so worthless that he has do it all over again. The bowler, most surprisingly, agrees with the umpire and walks back to the top of his run-up without a word of protest. And his labours start once more from scratch. Even if the bowler manages to bowl a legitimate delivery, the batsman more often than not decides that he wants to have nothing to do with the ball and lets the poor man behind the stumps collect the ball instead. This entire process goes on and on 540 times in a day and 2700 times over 5 days (at least that many times). Sounds mind-numbing, doesn't it?

So why is it that we love about cricket? I would say that it is this very leisurely pace at which the game is played which makes it so interesting. Here, I would like to categorically state that the game of test cricket is strictly for intellectuals.

A game of football, tennis or hockey motors along at a frenetic pace. There is no time to contemplate on the game either for the players or for the viewers. And this is precisely where cricket scores over most other games. It gives everyone involved ample time for contemplation. The commentators also feed up our hunger for contemplation. Commentators narrate entire anecdotes during a match without having to take their attention away from a single ball. Viewers can think about what should happen, what can happen and what is bound to happen on every single ball in a match. And after the ball is bowled, the viewer can again analyse what actually happened and why it happened. A true cricket lover thinks up entire tomes in the duration of a match. To enjoy Test cricket, you have to be a born thinker, a true intellectual.

It would not be fallacious to assume that cricket is the most-analyzed game of all. Cricket is a great game because it gives us the leisure to analyze. And I am thankful that there are more thinkers in the world than I would have dared to hope.

A tale of four friends

Once upon a time, there were four very good friends - Sam, Rocky, Paps and Kots. And better friends you would not find anywhere. I was there to witness their friendship, so I kid you not. They went to college together and even after scraping their way out of college, they virtually lived together. Of the four friends, Rocky was the extrovert - an effervescent and dynamic person, bouncing his way through life. Sam was the calm, composed cool-guy of the group. Kots had the lion's share of the brains within the group. While Paps was the sweet-as-candy and sticky glue which held the group together.

The group had many adventures as they romped their way through life. The adventures won't make for very interesting reading, since not everyone knows them as I do. Well we will jump forward ten years in their lives and meet them as they approach their middle-age.

Kots - The Brains is now a very successful person. He is respected by everyone for his knowledge and his razor-keen acumen. He is not uber-rich as you might expect him to be, but then he never really believed very much in prosperity. He himself is extremely satisfied with what he has achieved and that is what counts.

Paps - The Sweet is now a supremely happy person. Paps was and still is the closest of pals with Kots. And this relationship has ensured great happiness for both of them. We can safely assume that as long as they are together, they will always be very happy. Paps, by the way, is also very successful. But Paps' definition of success was always based more on the success of the group as a whole.

Sam and Rocky, in the meantime, have had a far rougher time than the other two. Rocky has changed drastically in ten years. He is no longer the butt-kicking, back-slapping dude he once was. He is much more serious now and seems to spend more time contemplating life than actually living it. Financially, he is very successful. But his success has come at a price. You can see that his hair has greyed visibly and worry lines have formed across his once very-low brow.

Sam's plight is not very dissimilar to Rocky's. The two had once been the roller-coaster engine of the group. The engine has now nearly broken down. Sam had always been more vulnerable than he projected himself to be. The vulnerability had increased over the years and circumstances have token a toll on him. The grey hair and the worry lines are apparent on him too.

The four of them are still friends or so they tell me. But it's hard to tell now just how good friends they still are. I have observed them together a couple of times. Sam's and Rocky's respective troubles seem to perennially hang over the four of them like a dark cloud.

On the horns of a Dilemma

Lately, I have been seeing these two horns very clearly in front of my eyes. And the horns seem to be getting more and more twisted everyday. The thing is - I have spent most of my life shaping out an ideology for myself. Firstly, it's entertaining. Secondly, it gives you a sense of occupation. And lastly and most importantly, twisting your ideology to suit your convenience is an excellent way to convince yourself that you are not a total failure.

So I can very truthfully say that I am a man of strong principles, at least I try my best to be one. I cannot say that I have been totally successful in this "following my ideals" thing because the ideals tend to get modified over time according to circumstances. But I will nevertheless stake my honour on the claim that I have done my best.

But lately, it seems to me that I am doomed to be a failure even in this regard. The details are a bit too commonplace to put down in prose, so I will spare the few readers I have of them. Just let it be understood that circumstances have forced me to let go of the most fundamental of my ideals. If it had been a matter of courage, I would not have been too worried. Courage I daresay I can summon up if desperately required. But courage will not work here. It's a clash between my duties and responsibilities and my cherished ideals. And my ideals seem to be running a distant second here.

P.S :- Readers are encouraged to chip in with their opinions, however worthless they might be.