During my time in Delhi I got a chance to play cricket once in a while. Cricket here was no less excruciating and exciting than what it was when I used to play it for my state side. Some of the players of my team were really good. We may not have been the best technique wise or talent wise, yet we shared one most important thing with all the greats, that was the grit for the game.
At first look our side looks an almost replica of Indian cricket team. We have all the ingredients it takes to make an exciting squad, a bullish Bengali, classy Hyderabadi, passionate Punjabi, belligerent boys from Bihar, Raipur and many other places. Not to forget a cool headed and sharp captain who led us to be a champion side last year, when we were thought of as an underdog.
There are many instances in the tournament which rush to my mind when I sat to pen down but one is of particular interest to me, and to most of my teammates as well. That was a quarter final match of the tournament, we were in first year then and the opponent team were our seniors. Fortunately or unfortunately the college system demands us to be excessively respectful towards our seniors, sometimes without a due reason. J However, matches were played on field and not in college building. We were brash, audacious, courageous and brutal too. We wanted to enjoy the game in its bare and pure form, without slightest dilution. We saw no seniors-juniors while in game. It was just we and them.
That particular match started almost an hour late than decided time as the opponent team arrived late to the field. Before beginning we told that match be played on some other day as only one innings could be played that day in whatever time was left. On the condition of having second innings on some other day match began. They won the toss and chose to bat. In stipulated 8 overs, they scored some 60 odd runs. We indeed bowled well, throughout the tournament and in that match particular.
The opponents then turned their colour, and coaxed us to play the match there and then. We argued that it was bad light and we could not play. They being the seniors coaxed us to start the game at least, and demanded that we see one over. We went down to bat; I opened and took the strike!! After five balls, I started walking off declaring that it was absolutely unplayable by then. We came home thinking that match will restart from that point and we will chase down the total easily. However at midnight our captain gets a call asking him to play the entire match again. Firm as he was, he said that we should play as decided on the field. Arguments reached a level of altercation; we decided that if we are forced to play the match again we will quit the tournament. This stance worked well. The opponents were forced to play the game from that point only.
However by this time, the news of this altercation had reached almost everyone in campus. This match was now not only a match, it somewhere got linked to the pride now…. !!!
However, by the time we reached the ground to finish that game again, we were clear that we will take it just as another game. We started well, reached halfway but then I got out on a lousy stroke. I realized my mistake. New batsmen came in, it was getting darker and darker. Our hopes were getting dim. Opponents were bowling slowly in order to make it more difficult for batsmen as lights were fading in setting sun. In a fit our captain even rushed into the ground asking them to hurry up the proceedings.
I was thinking that we just needed one good over to turn the match, and indeed we got one. The most successful batsman of our side hit two three consecutive boundaries and we won the match.
More than the victory of that game, I celebrate the spirit and grit we all showed for the game at that time. That was one of the few moments of life when we were really carelessly courageous. I crave more such moments for all of us, not only on the field but also off the field, in all areas of life. I hope wherever we go, whatever we be, we will keep alive within us, this GRIT for the GAME.
