My Trysts With Cricket

I have never been able to understand why people like cricket so much. Sure, it's a matter of personal taste and my taste and this sport are as alike as chalk and cheese. I've never been able to sit through more than seven or eight overs at a stretch. Only thrice in my lifetime have I tried to watch a match on TV.

The first time was 8th June 1999. The World Cup's Super Six match between India and Pakistan. We were on a school trip to Dharamshala and everyone was obviously quite enthused about this match, given the teams involved. We'd all gathered in the lobby of the little inn where we were staying and everybody was way more excited about this than about going out to trek or singing and dancing around a bonfire or anything else that the trip was originally intended for. So I thought I'd sit around and try to figure out what it was all about. I made a miserably unsuccessful attempt at figuring that out.

Fast forward to the next World Cup. 23rd March 2003. A bunch of my friends and I were writing the entrance exam for Delhi University's MCA course that day. Our exam centres were scattered across the University's North Campus, which is also the place where we'd all done our undergraduate studies together. We'd decided to meet up in our College after the exam. We went to the Junior Common Room to find all the resident Junior Members of College (That's the terminology in our College. There are no "students" and "teachers". There are Junior Members and Senior Members. And there's no "hostel", there's a residence.) gathered over there with their faces painted in the Tricolour. I got a really nice feeling being there, in the moment. We stuck around for five overs or so and then we lost hope with India's performance in that match. Then even the cricket enthusiasts among us found it a better option to go to the College's little coffee counter to sit and chat.

The only time I actually watched a match at my own place with just my Dad watching it with me was the ICC Twenty20 World Cup Final. I watched the last seven or eight overs of that one. During the last few balls I actually felt involved for the first time. And I felt the excitement when the last ball was bowled, not knowing whether it had enough swing to result in a six, or, as it happened, it would be caught. But that excitement was apparently not enough motivation for me to try sitting through another match.

And then there was IPL. I'm not sure if my team outing to Ferozshah Kotla on 22nd May 2008 actually counts as my fourth attempt to watch a game of cricket or not, but it was an interesting experience. A completely unseasonal torrential downpour drenching us but not in the least dampening our spirits. A ground that seemed reasonably dry until the staff tried to remove the covers after the rain stopped, and, in the process, transferred the puddles from the plastic on to the ground. So there was no match. But there was a lot of fun. There was a lot of screaming at the top of our lungs, for no real reason except that it was fun. There was cold rainwater accompanied by a chilly breeze. There was good company. That was what I went there for. I never wanted to watch the match and the forces of Nature also did not want me to watch cricket. They just wanted me to have a good time, as I did.