After being a cric-maniac for several years, I am now suffering from a condition we could call cric-apathy. This simply means that one has completely tuned out the sport. The cric-apathy is so acute that one hasn’t watched a single ball on television of the ICC Champions Trophy.
Just too much cricket. This isn’t an exhaustive (pun intended) list. IPL, Big Bash in Australia, CPL in the West Indies, T20 Blast in England, SA20 in South Africa, Pakistan Super League (PSL), International League T20 in UAE, Lankan Premier League, Bangladesh Premier League. A World Cup every 100 weeks, country versus country — you can add another paragraph about all the other cricket tournaments and matches I have not mentioned.
But rather than brood over the current situation, let me relive the nostalgia of my days as a cric-maniac.
Street cricket: Playing tennis-ball cricket in the narrow by-lane in south Calcutta where one grew up, was the beginning of cric-mania. Street cricket in the para (Bengali for locality) had its own rules. A bat. A cambis ball — local name for canvas/tennis ball. No stumps. Instead, eight bricks, carefully placed one on top of the other, always served as “the wickets” in Jamir Lane. And, of course, you could never be given out LBW when your teammate was the umpire.
Then, the real thing. Deuce-ball cricket in the high-school team. That’s a story for another column.
World Cup 1983: What were you doing on June 25, 1983?
My two brothers, four friends and I — all in our early 20s — watched the Prudential World Cup final together at the O’Brien family home. My ma always preferred football.
India: 183 in 60 overs. Surely the West Indies would cruise to their third World Cup win in a row. In the innings break my dad announced: “If we win I will open a bottle of Johnny Walker.” I made an announcement as well: “If India wins, I promise to streak on the main road!”
Kapil Dev stood on the balcony at Lord’s.
Dad, the legendary quiz master, opened his new bottle to celebrate. A 22-year-old kept his word and became, perhaps, the city’s first sporting streaker.
Aussie connection: My brother Andy was a sports journalist in India for over a decade before he moved to Australia 30 years ago. He has a bagful of stories about cricket and cricketers — all fun, many unprintable. Here are two printable anecdotes.
Sunil Gavaskar, Harsha Bhogle and a few journalists visited his home in Perth. They were craving for ghar ka cooked curry. “Would you like some more of this Mr Gavaskar?” Andy’s wife asked the legend. “Please. Please call me Sunil.” The Little Master’s charm found him a new fan.
Or, when Andy introduced his Australian-born seven-year-old son to Sourav Ganguly at the WACA. Sourav asked Aidan: “Would you want to play for Australia or India, because I know which team your dad supports!”
Trainee journalist: My first job, as a trainee journalist, was in Sportsworld, a now-defunct magazine, edited by Mansoor Ali Khan “Tiger” Pataudi. The cricket legend-turned-editor was based in Delhi. During my short stint, I only met him twice. David McMahon, the magazine’s associate editor, encouraged a rookie.
Not an IPL fan: IPL is a major reason for my cric-apathy. However, in 2014, my daughter was keen to watch the 2014 IPL final in Bengaluru. KKR versus Kings XI Punjab. It was the only time I have watched a cricket match in a stadium outside Calcutta. KKR won comfortably. Who would have guessed that Yusuf Pathan, who made a quickfire 36 off 22 balls that evening, would, a decade down the line, be my colleague in Parliament?
Azhar at first slip: In 2013, a team of Parliamentarians played an exhibition match at Dharamshala against a team of celebrities. As in school, I donned the wicket-keeping gloves for the MPs. Guess who was at first slip? A Lok Sabha MP at the time: Mohammad Azharuddin. Mid-way through the innings, my boot-lace opened. The fielder at first slip knelt down to tie it. Precious.
My champion neighbour: He is my neighbour. His home and my office share a boundary wall. He feeds the birds in the compound every day. He nurtures the plants. He opened the batting for India in Test cricket and ODIs. He transformed into a successful commentator. More than all this, he has inspired many and proved that “life after cancer is worth living”. A champion. My friend, Arun Lal.
MPs versus MPs: An old quiz question. Which two teams compete for the Raghuramaiah Trophy? Answer: Members of the Lok Sabha and members of the Rajya Sabha. A factoid that is only a quiz question today. In my 15 years in Parliament, I have not heard a whisper about the contest. Maybe it is time to revive this great tradition. After all, there are three sitting MPs who are World Cup winners: Kirti Azad (1983), Harbhajan Singh (2011) and Yusuf Pathan (2011). Maybe this is the antidote to my cric-apathy.
The writer is MP and leader, All India Trinamool Congress Parliamentary Party (Rajya Sabha). Additional research by Nayan Chaudhury
Just too much cricket. This isn’t an exhaustive (pun intended) list. 
Share
