Cricket is not just a bat and ball sport

Sachin Tendulkar’s straight drives were surreal

Over the last few days, I have browsed through the archives of various cricket websites that are house to some of the richest literature that the sport proudly calls its own. While some have extolled the greatness of the game, others have shed light on the viciousness of the sport and its ability to turn a prince to pariah within a span of 50 overs, sometimes a ball even.

Then, there are those piles of numbers embellishing the careers of some of the most outrageously talented players the game has ever produced and the odd ode to the ice-like demeanour of MS Dhoni, brat-ish upstart of Virat Kohli and those surreal straight-drives flowing out of Sachin Tendulkar’s bat.

What I failed to find was a comprehensive piece talking about these very narratives that exist in the game; their affluence and the sheer capacity to affect a million minds watching the sport. Writing, for many is a way of expression and a way of venting for some. But cricket enthusiasts will tell you how writing is a way of celebrating the game that they hold so close to their hearts.

It is how they captured the palpable tension when Misbah-ul-Haq miscued a scoop in the World T20 final, the delirium when Dhoni bludgeoned a six over long on at the Wankhede, the ignominy of match-fixing and the despair of the Pakistan fans that followed.

As a cricket fan, I would say it is the uncontrollable zest of the author that makes every piece an exciting read. It is like you are seeking shelter in a comforting refuge where it is just you and those countless words giving you a delightful insight into the thick of the action.

Every word is like each passing over; the intensity increasing with the passage of time. Each punctuation is like a dismissal; sometimes standoffish but often required for the plot to move forward. And then you come across those advertent metaphors or anecdotes which are unlike the unintended moments of brilliance on the field but like them in that they can enhance the reading experience just as an outstanding catch or a six conjured out of nowhere add impetus when the shoulders are dropping.

Finally, closure in these writings is like the death over of an innings; filled with action and sometimes extraordinary drama that almost always culminates into a worthy finish.

For old-school romantics like me who don’t mind a tinge of drama thrown into the texts, contemporary literature is where we seek solace. The craftsman like precision, the poetic hysteria and the occasional bluntness of the author is what keeps us hooked to these pieces.

Having followed the game for over a decade and half, suffice to say the technicalities of the sport are hardwired in my brain and yet, it is this naïve appeal of the writings, the adrenaline rush that accompanies every piece that lends them their peculiar radiance, their own aura.

The game is a great leveller they say. It brings you images of Lance Klusener committing hara-kiri when he called Allan Donald for a non-existent single (World Cup 1999, semi-final, Australia vs South Africa), and for every such heartbreak, there is a certain AB de Villiers manufacturing sixes and boundaries at will; reassuring the world of his superman status. These pictures; some of them, bring tears to the eyes; some make you weak in the knees and others just leave you flabbergasted.

Writing is exactly about the same experience. Only that they galvanise those images and immortalize those memories. It is this innate ability to dismantle every shot, every run-up, every grimace, and every emotion that gives the game of cricket its required sanity check and tells us that it is, at the end of the day, more than just a bat and ball game.