Saturday, 8.30 AM: We enter the Chinnaswamy stadium and a sigh of disappointment echoes as a whole across the stadium. No, yours truly, or his friends, are not famous enough to warrant such strong reactions. The reason for the mass disappointment was being displayed on the huge electronic display screen mounted at the BEML end: "Australia has won the toss and are going to bat first." We didn't sigh, we swore, as we made our way to the best possible seats we could get in the North stand. This was the first time that I was going to watch a test match live at the. And while I am an ardent cricket fan, the biggest purpose of this visit – atleast for me – was to watch Sachin Tendulkar bat. I won’t go into how big a Sachin fan I am and blah, blah, blah. Every sport fanatic out there will understand that; because every sport fanatic will have a player whose career they have religiously followed ever since they got hooked on to the sport.
So anyway, here we were, at one of the more famous test venues in the country, waiting for the play to start and hoping that an out-of-form Indian bowling attack would be able to dismiss a reasonably strong Australian line-up cheaply on a shirtfront of a wicket. After a lot of struggle, and a brilliant second session on the second day, India finally managed to dismiss Australia on 478. The highlight of the innings was Marcus North getting to his century to end his run of poor form (something that a lot of players manage to do against India).
The end of the Australian innings about 10 minutes before lunch raised the decibel levels of the crowds considerably; since many of them – including us – wouldn’t be returning the next day due to the mundane routine of going to the office. Now, watching a game live at the stadium is an amazing experience; one that anyone with more than a passing interest in any sport should undergo. Apart from the Mexican waves, the poster waving at the camera, and the calling-your-relatives-that-you-may-appear-on-TV-any-moment, it’s the crowd reaction that is amazing to watch. It’s as if the parts become the whole. Every wicket, century (by an Indian or opposition player), or, at times, even a single run is greeted by a single loud cheer rising from the stadium as a whole. Every catch dropped, stumping missed, or the instance of a batsman getting beaten is accompanied by a single ‘ooh’ emanating from the stadium as a whole much akin to the supporting notes belted out by the chorus singers in a song. And God forbid if an opposition player has the temerity to exchange words with an Indian one.
So, Day 2, session 3; the Indian team commenced its innings. Sehwag and Murali Vijay walk out to start the proceedings for India; loud cheers accompanying their arrival at the crease. Sehwag sets about his business in his usual fashion – trying to get all of the 478 runs in a single session. The Aussies, however, had warned that they had specific plans for Sehwag, and they soon bore fruition as Sehwag fell to a short delivery off Ben Hilfenhaus. Though I let out a loud ‘No!!’ of disappointment with the others, the evil part of me (or the devil on the left shoulder) smiled wickedly; one more and then I would have been paid for my patience. In walks the local hero, Rahul Dravid; to loud cheers from the crowd. After poking around for 10 minutes for a single, he edges one to first slip off Mitchell Johnson; his favored mode of dismissal now-a-days. A loud ‘oh!’ echoes around the stadium followed by deathly silence (it’s hard to believe such silence can be found in the presence of such a boisterous mob). Dravid has hardly made it halfway to the pavilion when the noise starts revving up again; much like an engine. The reason: Sachin has been spotted getting out of the dressing room on the 1st tier of the pavilion. Rahul Dravid must be one of the most unfortunate number 3 in the history cricket. For all his resilience, his fantastic contribution to Indian cricket, and his popularity, whenever he has batted in India, he’s had to listen to people cheering at his dismissal. What’s more, there have been times when he’s been booed on his way to the crease and cheered on his way out. Quite a thankless way to treat a sportsperson who not only has given his all for the country, but also has been a fantastic ambassador for the country as well as the game.
But then the man walking in next hasn’t done any less well for India. He’s done well enough to ensure that even when we refer to Him in pronouns, we break all the grammatical laws and use uppercase. The man himself though seemed oblivious to the brouhaha around him. He walks calmly to the pitch, taps the bat at the good length spot, takes his guard, and starts doing what he does best – and what we have come to see him do – bat. He began sedately enough, taking a single off Hauritz. For the next half an hour he was watchful, yet confident. Now the time and the situation in which Sachin walked in meant that that was no chance of us getting to see him reach his 50. There was another stat though, which everyone was eager to see him achieve before the end of the day: becoming the first man to scale Mount 14k. That Indians are obsessed with stats is no secret (perhaps this has something to do with the illustrious history of mathematicians that we have had); and Tendulkar has given them enough stats to chew upon for a lifetime. Before the start of the game, he needed 27 runs to achieve the target, and I am sure that almost every fan present in the stadium was counting every run that he was making (I know I was). With the light fading and Sachin stranded on 25, there were more than a few anxious faces in the crowd, and every dot ball played by Murali Vijay was greeted with cries of ‘oh!’ or, in some cases, a variety of swear words. But a short ball from Haurtiz, and some mystical field placements from Ponting, saw Sachin punch one through the covers for a boundary to reach the much awaited landmark. The next few overs saw a flurry of boundaries as Sachin raced to 44. And as is the human wont, the traditional habit of ‘thoda aur’ kicked in, with the crowd willing Sachin to get to his 50 as soon as possible. The umpires though had different ideas as they whipped out the much antagonized light meter and declared the condition to be too dark for play.
And so amidst much booing (for the umpires) and much more cheering (for Him), Sachin walked off, calm as ever, quietly acknowledging the cheers of the crowd on his way. As for me, well, my only wish was to see Sachin walk upto the crease and take his famous stance just once. Considering that, my wish was fulfilled many times over (44 to be exact…yeah bite me! Even I am obsessed with stats). What happened next is ofcourse present in all the cricket archives. Sachin went on to make a double century and an unbeaten fifty in the second innings. 267 runs and getting out only once. Following the match sitting in the confines of a claustrophobic cubicle was gut-wrenching ofcourse, but then when I think of that one evening when I saw the God of cricket bat out there, all I can say is that my cup runneth over.
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