Bowled over by cricket
Young speak
By Rajesh Sharma

WHAT do Sunil Gavaskar, Kapil Dev, Mohammed Azharuddin, Sachin Tendulkar and I have in common? Gentleness, of course. And, love for the gentleman’s game.

Game! you call cricket a game. To me it is life as it is to these players.

I was addressed as "Little Master" when I started playing cricket as a twelfth man in the club called Brothers Eleven. Each player had his real brother(s) playing in the club. Hence, the name of the club.

Being the youngest in the club, I would field at "third man". There the ball visited rarely those days. Whenever, I bowled, the length of the pitch was reduced by half. I never got a full over to bat, always three or four balls. That too at the end of the day’s play.

Even then the cricketer in me never gave in. The cricketer was completely wedded to ‘sangeeta’ of dedication and discipline as has been Azhar. Like him I, too, spoke less on the field. Finally, came the day of reckoning. I was put close to Kapil Dev as far as the killing instinct was concerned. I used to play in our gali team as well.I was the star attraction there.

One Sunday morning we were in a fix. We were only three players — my friend Dicku, his sister Alka and I. And a match was scheduled. Finally, it was decided that Alka would be the common player. Dicku put my team to bat after winning the toss. Alka opened the innings. She batted well and scored 15 runs before being bowled out.

Then I took the bat. Singles, twos, threes, fours and sixes — I hit out ruthlessly on all sides. Quickly, I reached near the century mark. It was to be maiden one, actually. And the fastest one in our gali.

But ...soon I was declared out! Alka took my catch. Before she caught the ball, it had touched the ground.

"I am not out", I protested.

"No, you are out", Dicku countered.

"Alka, you speak the truth", I sought Alka’s opinion.

"You are out", said Alka.

"Oh yes, you are to support your brother. Koi gal nahin. Main dona noon dekh laanga. (No problem. I will see both of you.)", I ended the argument, expelling Alka from my team with her individual score of 15 runs.

Now Dicku was to bat. To win, he needed 94. He already had 15 runs in his team’s account. But even 79 runs was a big target.

I took the ball. Measured my run-up. Dicku was ready. I ran, reached the crease and threw the ball.

Dicku was clean bowled!

He was puzzled. He could not see the ball. Neither could I, nor Alka. All we could see was his middle stump lying on the ground. And the ball was found some 25 metres behind the wickets.

"What a delivery", exclaimed Dicku, tapping his bat. Alka too praised me. The delivery was neither a full toss nor a ghisi (with no bounce at all). In fact, a marvellous delivery whose mystery is still not known!

Failure to hit a century didn’t sadden me as I had achieved a bigger feat that day.

India has only one all-rounder in the form of Kapil Dev then. So, Dicku advised me to become an all-rounder, and join the Indian team.

Sadly, I could not join it. In fact, I could not continue playing cricket. Reasons were aplenty: poor playing conditions both in our gali and at our playground, poor health and, above all, lack of encouragement.

I, however, still breathe cricket. I am always glued to the TV set whenever India plays a cricket match. Although there does not exist the Brothers Eleven any more, I regard the Indian team as my ‘brothers eleven’.

And now Sachin Tendulkar. Here let me play an "agricultural" shot. What I share with him has nothing to do with cricket. It is: looks.