well, i never

I’ve almost entirely stopped watching sport on television, for whatever reason, but on occasion I do venture into places where the fanatical types in college watch and cheer – from where my room is, if there is a fairly unambiguous (in terms of support in the common room) match happening (an India v. someone cricket match, for example – it gets tougher if it’s Federer v. Nadal or something), I only need count the cheers for wickets fallen or the general state of the match.

However, tonight I’d eaten out with two such characters (R and P here), Tendulkar fanatics to the core,* who’d left the Sri Lanka v. India match for the sake of food. As far as they knew, SRL had made 239, and India had progressed with the loss of Sehwag. The plan post-dinner was to head to an ice-cream parlour nearby for dessert.

But then, as we walked down and were just about to leave, R peeks into the Café Coffee Day next to the restaurant, and says ‘dude, we need to check the score’.

He takes a step towards it, exclaims ‘Dude! MASTER IS BATTING!’, and they both run into the CCD, dismissing suggestions of heading to the ice-cream place with a scoff and wave of the hand (it should be mentioned at this point that R refers to Sachin Tendulkar as ‘Master’ with no sense of irony; he’d sound like Peter Lorre if only he snivelled a bit more).

They enter CCD, and promptly plonk themselves at a table that was occupied by a couple (couches, so the couple were canoodling on one, leaving the other free) because it was right in front of the TV. Eventually, they see reason and proceed to a table a little less optimal for viewing, and loudly pontificate on the state of the match and SRT’s prowess.

The state of the match by this point is almost a given – India were comfortably winning, with 7 wickets in hand and 40-odd runs required of more than enough balls in hand (that’s what she said) to trot home.

They, of course, don’t give a crap about that (well, not as much) – they’re frantically calculating the run difference between those required to win, and the number SRT needed to reach his century.

At this point, he was on 75-ish, and given the balls in hand, they were absolutely confident that Dinesh Karthik (who was at the other end) would do the right thing and defend out while given ‘Master’ the strike and means to win.

It wasn’t yet tight vis-à-vis runs left for victory, so they spent their time berating Chandigarh and the residents of Mohali, who deigned to not show up for matches where ‘Master’ was playing, whereas on the other hand this place knew how to celebrate when he scored a boundary (Mohali doesn’t put their back into it), and also that Yuvraj Singh doesn’t have sufficient respect for ‘Master’, and clearly, playing in this Indian team, you’d better have it, or else..

Now it boiled down to India needing 14, ‘Master’ requiring ten at the end of the 41st over. SRT takes a single of the second ball, moving to 91*.

These two are convinced that Karthik knows his place, and will defend out the remaining four balls, allowing SRT a go the next over. The first two balls he faces seemed to stick to the (or, their) plan – he defends, and didn’t really seem interested in scoring.

And then, fifth ball of the over, steps out and smacks one over the top and across the ropes for six runs.

I almost fell out of my chair laughing, while they’re staring at the screen, mouths agape and eyes blazing bloody murder, swearing that he must be dropped from the Indian cricket team forever, nay, from even the Tamil Nadu state team and be condemned to playing for India Cements the rest of his life, how dare he!

Now it’s seven to win, nine needed for the hundred, with SRT on strike. They settle down when he hits a boundary first ball of the over and a single of the second, when they realize that now he’s on 96* (two to win), and if Karthik takes another single, it allows SRT to hit a boundary to seal the victory and his hundred.

The ball is delivered, going down leg side – Karthik tickles it down to fine leg for four.

No dice.

The closing reaction, before the bill was paid with disgust and they stalked out: ‘Dude, he should’ve blocked that ball with his pads!’



* R is someone who, faced with a submission deadline, spat that ‘dude, where are my priorities? Master is batting and I’m sitting in the library footnoting’ and stormed out, and once refused to leave on time for a place we had to be at because Master was batting, and compromised by leaving when Dravid (at the other end) was dismissed instead.