ASHES

One of the busiest weekends in this year probably. Tiring, refreshing, painful and satisfying all at the same time. I played two matches over the weekend, one that we won the other we lost. However, as it turns out, all the adverbs (!) I used before were existent in the second match alone. That’s one of the great things about cricket; there are very few times you can return empty handed from the field – quite literally.

I bowled well in both the matches, although I was asked to do something I have never done so far. I was asked to bowl defensively, back of length. Since I am not express I have to rely on swing and therefore invariably pitch the ball up. At the end of the day I did well with the bowl and in the field. So that gave me the satisfaction.

I fell in my follow through on the first ball of my spell in the second game and twisted my ankle. It didn’t bother me during the game but as I came back to my place I started to feel some discomfort and slight swelling. The fact that I had to ride my bike and shift gears with my ankle and walk a large distance in the evening made it all the more painful.

Losing a final is as bad as it can get. I have lost two before, and those disasters are etched in my memory much deeper than most of my victories. This time the feeling was not as bad, as I realised that the team did not deserve to win. Even then the spirit and fight put up by a number of players in the team was quite remarkable and to say the least refreshing.

Amidst all the cricket there were trips between Delhi and Gurgaon on my bike in the sweltering heat, for more than 150kms. A friend’s party late night on Friday which ended at 1.30am and I had to wake up at 6am on the following morning to go for my match. A little bit of studying for my GMAT to go with it was enough to make the whole experience so tiring, that people at work asked me if there was anything wrong.

I wonder what it would have been like if I had not played those games. I could have ridden my bike at a decent hour with less of heat, I wouldn’t have hurt myself and of course I would have been able to give even more time to my studies. This is perfectly what my parents would have expected of me, or perhaps will tell me to do the next time. It’s a sad feeling that at the age of almost 24 your parents don’t understand the importance of the most important fuel of your life. It’s still just a game for them, a game which should not be played too much and least be watched on TV.

This is not one of Zubin like i-hate-my-parents post. Please don’t get me wrong here. I am also not saying that my parents have never felt good when I have told them of my achievements in cricket. But they have never understood that it is almost intoxication for me, something that gives the pleasure and happiness that we all are searching for all the time. They can not understand why I occasionally neglect them for cricket.

I guess it’s hard for anybody to comprehend that a game, a sport or any such otherwise considered peripheral concept can drive someone’s existence. But what is even harder is to explain it to somebody yourself.