No Whistle To Put Da :(

The carnival starts once again. That time again when "Indiaaaaaa India!" chants will be replaced by "AaarrrrCeeeeeBeeee" and "Aami Kolkata" and its ilk. That time again when Virat Kohli will stop belonging to us, instead will belong to Bangalore. When a section of the Indians will root for Glenkeerat Singh Maxwell to take Ashwin to the cleaners. Move over Nation vs Nation, it is my city bestest time now! It is time now for IPL!

While the country and the cricket fans across the globe ready up the war paint to support their favorite teams, there is one set of people who are lost. Even before the tournament starts. Not for them is "Ek India Happywala!" Far from it! They are the supporters of one of the most keenly followed teams, CSK. Probably the most vociferous and high decibel set of fans that any IPL team possesses. (Sorry Rajasthan but neither the numbers nor the volume levels of your fans stand a fig of a chance vs those of CSK. Hoot! Hoot!)

For those who came in late, CSK and RR have been banned as per strictures from the Supreme Court Of India for a period of two seasons for indulging in social service activities like betting and spot fixing. Post many a hearing and appeals, the ban stands. If the Rajasthan Royals fans are disappointed, they didn't showcase it much beyond the cursory tweets and Facebook posts. From what I can gather, they seem to have moved on. The CSK fan? Well that needs a paragraph or two. Read on!

No Whistlepodu! No Halla Bol!

Media reports first emerged about a fairly high decibel signature campaign asking the courts to pardon the club "for us fans"! Then a few thousands assembled up at various locations and stadias to accuse BCCI and other "Naarth Indians" of victimizing us knowledgeable folks residing in the south of Vindhyas (Bangalore and Hyderabad are in California. Welcome!) The last and presently ongoing campaign especially on Social Media is #NoCSKNoIPL which is likely to run its course during the course of the forthcoming IPL season and may make its sporadic appearance till and in the next.

Chennai Super Kingskku Signature podu!

There are essentially two types of CSK fans. The first who supported the team in the first place because their favourite cricketer was sporting its colours. Nothing else explains why a Jharkhandi or a Bhaiyya from UP, separated by miles of Indian territory should be supporting the "Madrasis". Such fans of Captain Cool or Sweet Sonu have moved on to support the new franchisees for which the said players have signed up. The other and more passionate set of fans whose umbilical cord is tied to Chennai first and the players next, whose other pastimes include #StopHindiImposition and #BloodyAmits are the ones in a serious dilemma as to what do they do next. It is for these fans my heart bleeds. Bleeds yellow. And it is for these fans I have a few suggestions. First is these fans should boycott the next two IPL seasons. It is an old strategy but still effective. It worked for Mahatma Gandhi, it worked for #BoycottDilwale and #NoDealOnSnapdeal, it can well work for them too. There is however one hitch. Unlike "Indhi filims" Cricket is an all encompassing religion and boycotting it is well neigh impossible.

Bleed purple, fuschia, blue and a little yellow. Sigh!

The other is to attend every match at the stadium, carry huge banners saying #NoCSKNoIPL and #BleddyBCCI and hope you catch the cameras. Effective it may or may not be, expensive it surely will be!

Sweet Sonu is still a Lion!

As a great fan of this brand of masala cricket and as someone who is married to Chennai I propose a way out of this quagmire. (Seri Seri! Coimbatore is not Chennai but #TodayWeAreAllChennaiites suffices!)
Turn the handicap into an asset. Watch every match and without any qualms or pressure. Enjoy the cricket. And troll the fans of every other club! They can't troll you back. Enjoy the ride. Detoxify over the next two seasons and come back strongly to #Whistlepodu in IPL 2018! Hopefully with namma Chennai paiyyan Ashwin as the Thala of the team!

Pudhiya "Thala"imurai???

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PS: 

Boycott! Boycott! Strategy explained here in details!

If you feel like #Whistlepodu, click here too!

Glossary:

Aami Kolkata - I am Kolkata

Namma Chennai Paiyyan - Our Chennai lad

Pudhiya Thalaimurai - Next Generation. Thala- Nickname given to CSK Captain 

 

Ooo Lala!

When I look back on my career as a gully cricketer eons ago, there are two players who have gone on to play the game in its highest form whom I identify with. I have already written about the Malang Man earlier. I now write about the other legend who has done our breed proud, Shahid Afridi aka Boom Boom alias Lala!

Boom Boom!

One of the fundamental rules in gully cricket as I have mentioned earlier too is there are no rules. Afridi is the most accomplished practitioner of this dictum as none before him could and I presume none after him can. ‘See ball will hit’ would possibly be the most apt description of him. It doesn’t matter if he is opening the batting, playing in the middle or bringing up the tail. So too irrespective of whether the team is in strong position or needs to rebuild. And not to forget the so called cognoscenti who distinguish between Tests, ODI or T20. Shahid Bhai’s gaadi has only one gear, fifth! In gully cricket parlance we see no distinction between formats, status of the inning or the competence of the other batsman. We just go out with only a Ghuen Tak or a Chak De Phatte on mind when we bat. And none does it better than Lala! Mera Lala sabse ala!

Start! 5th Gear! Vrooom!

Maaro!

Once I got out of childhood and joined the rat race, there was immense pressure on me to improve. Get the right increment here, eye that promotion there. And in trying to do it, I was forced to learn more things, read, experiment, fine tune, improve. Essentially Think! How I wish I were Shahid Afridi! Not for our hero the complications of thinking! Not for him the required run rates, the condition of the pitch, the strength of the opposition, need to build partnership. Gosh! Thinking? Thinking is almost like doing engineering! Thinking is such a waste of time when you can ‘hit-out-or-get-out’! And who cares about critics who expect you to graduate and grow as a player! Who in their ignorance write reams of paper lecturing about technique, reading the game or playing high percentage shots! Chill man! It is a sport! Maaro! I am sure we the fans know better. I mean those huge 6s, those agricultural shots which puts the bowler and the fielders under your mercy. And fast. So what if you succeed only once every Eid and once more on Diwali. Adrenalin is everything. As is a dash of romance! While I am no longer the child I was, Shahid Bhai has remained the child that he was and the child I wanted to. 

I am Back!!

The most inspiring thing about Afridi is what I always wanted to do but was hugely scared of even attempting. One of the fundamental techniques to grow within an organization is blackmail. A subtle statement when the boss is within hearing distance about an offer from the competition or a resignation before the peak selling season invariably got you that much delayed promotion or increment. My fear was what if the boss got the message wrong and sacked me first or god forbid accepted my resignation? No such fear for our hero. Retire, retire again, retire once more, retire from tests, retire from ODI! Not for him the fear of the bosses. Every retirement only increased the clamour for a comeback! Each as spectacular in expectation as the next!

The exit of Pakistan from the ongoing World Cup brings us to yet another retirement of Shahid Khan Afridi. Au Revoir Lala! See you back sooner rather than later!

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PS: Before Shahid Afridi was rightly bestowed with the nickname, Boom Boom was associated with Boris Becker. Still is I am told, in ninety percent of the world which doesn’t play our beautiful game!   

Glossary :

Gaadi : Vehicle

Ghuen Tak : Hit It!

Chak De Phatte : Euphemism for Go for it!

Mera Lala Sabse Ala : My Lala is the best!

Maaro : Hit!

Bhai : Brother

Malang Man!

Gully cricket! Those who have played it know it has uniqueness written all over it. The rules of the game are as varied as the gully themselves. And the only common one among those varied rules is the absence of a Cricket copybook. Not for us the coaching manuals. You struck the rising ball pitched outside off to Rina aunty's balcony somewhere in the deep thirdman's direction to score the 'declared two'. You moved inside the line to scoop the full pitched ball straight above the mid on's head simultaneously imparting heavy top spin on it so that it misses Ghosh uncle's protruding television antenna and still hits the C Block water tank for an 'aththa'! You also cheekily but skillfully pushed the ball square to ensure it went below Raman uncle's Ambassador parked there since eternity so you can score a ' all run 3'. Imagine an 'all run 3'! In gully cricket! Now tell me when have you seen me do this? You haven't? Means you have not prodded your mind enough! I have seen me do it. I have seen you do it too! And I saw it everytime Virendra Sehwag padded up and took strike. That audacious 'upar cut', that walking away from the ball to nonchalantly scoop/hoik it above the mid on's head and yet place it beyond the unorthodox long on's reach or the cheeky push away from the slip to a ball which has beaten you on its flight. NOW you get the connection! 


Ganguly retired, a part of my childhood memories vanished. Dravid took away a portion when he hung up the boots. VVS did the same. And Sachin..............sigh! They all helped me get nostalgic. They kindled fond memories about my past. They made me miss some of the most beautiful moments of my life. But I lived on. But Sehwag? Sehwag killed my childhood! He was me! He was you! He was us! With all our shortcomings and infirmities. The lack of footwork and straight bats. He was that imp who stole an 'all run 3' in gully cricket. He was that supreme exponent with the bat who conquered the world with all our limitations, blemishes, drawbacks and weaknesses. I am Viru! The gully cricketer who could dream and then win the world. 

Topspin to take it past Ghosh Uncle's TV antenna! 

Cheeky push to send it below Raman Uncle's car!!

Malang! Mast Malang!!

Malang. Malang! No it is not an ode to Aamir Khan and Dhoom 3. Malang is a word used to describe the ascetics and sufis who live in a world of their own oblivious of everything that goes around them. In a communion with whoever they are in love with and despite the distractions of the world. Beyond love or hate, beyond the plethora of material needs at their disposal or none of it. In a daze, in a zone of their own. Nothing affected them, nothing could upset their veneer. A seering bouncer fended off awkwardly is wiped off from memory. An ugly swipe at the swinging delivery leaving you looking foolish. An unorthodox reverse sweep attempted off an express paceman. Nothing affected him, nothing could upset his veneer. All that mattered was that the next ball was on its way and presented an opportunity to belt it to the boundary or beyond it. Equanimity never lost and never needed to be restored. Peace reigned in his mind as the bowler lost it. MalangMan!

I have this nagging feeling that whenever the history of modern Indian Cricket especially its willow wielders is written the writer may run out of space, pen and ink by the time one is done with the Fab Four and leave a gaping hole in the narrative which will never be noticed by the generation to follow us. Mundane statistics will be quoted and what will be missed is the essence. You will talk about Dada's aggression with bat as well as a captain. Paeans will be written about Dravid's struggle. The languid slayer that the Very Very Special player was. And Sachin.................sigh! They gave joy, they offered delight, happiness from the platform built by a certain Nawab of Najafgarh! Remember the roller coaster, the giant wheel, the horror movie? They didn't give joy or delight or happiness. They gave you pure, unadulterated thrill! Thrill that the Sultan of Multan packed into every minute of his stay at the crease. Whether he scored 2, 22 or those monster  hundreds! THRILL! 

Rewrite the Books! It is Fabulous Fivesome!!

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PS: I first heard Imran Khan of Pakistan call him 'Malang'. One of the few occasions post retirement from active cricket when Khan got something right!

Glossary:

Aththa : Delhi slang for the one which goes beyond the rudimentary 'Sixer', an 'Eighter'!