12 years of Adelaide 2006: Remembering the most painful defeat of my life

It seems like yesterday. England 97 runs ahead after stumps at day 4 with 9 wickets in hand. On day 5, they made the most painful 70 runs ever in around 55 overs at the cost of 9 wickets. Australia played ODI cricket in rest time and chased it down with ease. Ricky deservedly was the Man of the Match. 

I will never know what happened that night after day 4. It will always remain a mystery to me. Did England players sleep on the wrong side of the bed? Did God himself intervene and give divine powers to the Aussies? Did England players forget how to play cricket overnight? Was it written in the stars? Was it fate or destiny or was it one of those freaks of nature performances? Was it bad luck or was it years of hard work and mental grittiness of the Aussies? Whatever it was, it was a symbolic representation of everything Cricket stands for. That defeat was a recognition of how hard Aussies had worked hard to regain the Ashes after the debacle of 2005 and how much prepared they were this time. 

I was 13 and was in grade 8 at that time. We didn’t have cable TV and the only source of England-Australia matches were news channels or the newspapers. After day 4, I was so sure that the game was gonna end in a draw that I didn’t bother to check the score for the whole day. Next day, I casually opened the newspaper and as usual, went to the sports section first thing. I will never forget the sinking feeling when I saw the title, “Warne-Ponting magic steal an impossible Ashes test win”. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought that the paper guys made a mistake. They don’t know what they are talking about. So, I took some of my savings, went to the market and bought a few other newspapers. I was so sure that they were going to show a different scoreboard. The one, in which the test ended in a draw. The innocence of 13 year-olds. Ah! it still hurts as if it happened yesterday.

Well. All the newspapers, both in Hindi and English told the same story with different words and fonts. Everyone at my home was normal. None I knew really cared about Ashes or England. I had to grieve alone. I went to school, kept thinking about it. Whole day. Then the whole week and whole month. It was hard to move on. It is like they say, “The toughest lessons of life are always learned in your formative years.” I have sobbed in anger, in pain, and in frustration thinking about that defeat. I made a few pacts to myself later. I promised myself that day that I will never be England. I will always love them, but I will never be them. I couldn’t ever bring myself to love Aussies again. My relationship with them was over on that very day. 

That defeat had a constant and ever-lasting impression on me and I was never the same person after that. I started working harder and harder since that day. I was already rank one in studies in my class, but after Adelaide 2006, I made the second rank guy a far distant second. I stopped taking anything for granted and almost become paranoid. I became extra cautious and started to be over-prepared all the time. Adelaide 2006 made me who I am and who I want to be. That defeat transformed my inner self. I had never felt so much sympathy and love for anything like I did for England that day. I questioned everything since then. The defeat happened on December 5, 2006. Freddie’s birthday (my favorite cricketer growing up) was the next day. I felt for him. After all, he was the captain of that England side that summer. I wish I could have shared his pain.

I hated the Aussies while maintaining a deep respect for the way they went about their business. I wanted to be like them while being an English cricket lover in the heart. I vividly remember my diary entry from that night. I was crying and I had depicted my pain in words like,

“Dear Nicole Kidman and Nobel Prizes in Physics, Chemistry, and Medicine

I dare you to alleviate this perpetual pain I find myself into. Just so you all know, that you are not a panacea. You can’t fix this. A part within me just died with England losing at the magical Adelaide today. That part will forever stay dead. Nothing and absolutely nothing will ever be enough to erase the memories of today. If a man were dying today and asking for my help and I happen to be there, my first question to him will be, “Hey mate! Show me your passport.” If it happens to be an Australian, I would call for help and wouldn’t help him myself. I know that is ridiculous as humanity is the biggest religion of us all, but I don’t care about that right now. 

I feel so much loathing for the entire nation today. I know that it is childish and England themselves are to blame for this, but I can’t help myself. God, please help me and ease my pain. Please, never again I want to go through something like this. Please God, comfort me.”

Note: My favorite actress growing up was Nicole Kidman (who happens to be an Australian) and my only dream in life has always been to win a Nobel prize in either of Physics, Chemistry or Medicine (besides making the fastest hundred on debut against Australia in Australia of course).

Every time something good happens in my life or I feel like I am getting ahead of myself, I watch that scorecard of Adelaide 2006 and it brings me back to earth. It is a mirror of the brutal and cold truth that in sports, anything can happen. You just never know what will you get once you cross that white line. The pitch, the bat and the ball can and will betray you. The moment you start taking things for granted, it will hit you back hard. 

I have read autobiographies of almost half of the players from both England and Australia involved in that match. Everyone said different things. Warne, Ponting, KP, Lee, McGrath, Hayden, Flintoff, Clarke: All had their own versions of that day. I am still not satisfied. The mystery in my head endures. How can England lose the unlosable? Ian Chappell said after that defeat, “The difference was in the mind.” I was thinking like, “What if the Aussies are fundamentally superior to English? What if every woman on earth choose them over the English? What if England never beat Australia ever again? What if every test match turns out to be Adelaide?” So many bad things. Such a little life. 

I have spent countless nights thinking about that defeat. It still hurts and haunts me. The wounds have just gone deeper in skin now. That defeat is a constant reminder of why sports is so pure and why victory in any sports is always morally appropriate. I still haven’t forgiven Australia for that day. I hate them, and yet I can’t stop thinking about them. It is weird. Someday, I may let it go. But, one thing is for sure that I will never forget the sinking feeling in my stomach when I saw the newspaper headline that day. It was as if I had seen a ghost. 

If I ever meet any of the England players from that match, I have only one question to ask, “What happened?"

I have celebrated every year of December 1 - 5 as a tribute to that magical match. I barely watch any cricket during that week. It is a no-cricket week for me. It is perfect. I still remember taking ice-bath in the chilling winter in Kanpur during midnight on the 10th anniversary of that match. Cricket has always been like a baby to me and it has taught me everything I know. Both about life and about numbers. Adelaide 2006 is a perfect representation of it. 

I still remember at one stage Australia needed 43 off 67 balls with Freddie bowling 5 dots in a row to Clarke. The last ball of the over was clipped towards midwicket. Clarke ran three and then Pietersen overthrow costing additional four. Seven runs in one ball! That look of exasperation on Flintoff's face was not of disappointment, but of sadness. I just wish I was there stopping that boundary. It is like the title of this article shows, "You may smile at a six, but you will cry at a seven."

For Joe Denly

The last time he played, I had just started my graduation in 2010. In between his last game and now, I had lived an entire lifetime of heartbreaks, pain, and agony. Watching England struggle is one of the most painful things I have to go through.

Imagine having to live for 3,172 days without the thing you love the most. The proud three-lions cap. Denly must have missed it. Hell, even I missed it for him. When he went out for England yesterday, my faith in perseverance and hard-work got renewed. It was a moment of euphoria for me.

When Joe came out to bat yesterday, I had tears of joy rolling down my cheek. It was Saturday night with me trying to read some science on my sofa. England was trying to find closing momentum. Stokesy was struggling on the other end going at run-a-ball. The outfield had got damp because of the rain and there was a chance that England could end up with a below par total. And amidst this, Joe was up against one of the all-time greatest T20 bowlers: Lasith Malinga. It was an enormously uphill task. Keep the wickets and try to accelerate.

Malinga was just too good for him. With the mix of slower balls and deadly toe-crushing yorkers, he was hard to get away with. He bowled 4 dot balls in a row to Joe Denly and it was painful to watch. Eventually, Joe got going in the next over with 3 boundaries. All of them were pure class. The use of feet lifting over the bowler's head followed by slash over third man and ending the over with a gorgeous midwicket on-drive. He was back! I was feeling elated and ecstatic at home.

In the next over, Malinga got rid of Denly. He made 20 before departing. It was a decent innings considering the fact that Denly opens the batting for his county, Kent and it was a very unfamiliar role in a completely different situation and that too, in the subcontinent. I was reasonably happy for him. But his best was yet to come.

Captain Morgan gave him the new ball to bowl some leg-breaks. Denly often does that for Kent.

Joe Denly was simply sensational. He got the ball to turn just enough. The ball was skidding because of dampness and he got rid of both Sri Lankan openers in his first two overs. Rashid did the rest and both leggies combined 7 wickets in their 8 overs. Denly bowled the last over and got two more wickets and ended up with 4-0-19-4. The best bowling figures in T20Is for England against Sri Lanka. England had a comprehensive win by 30 runs.

Normally, I sleep early. But this time, I stayed awake till late. Just to watch him. It was worth it. I was a little sad that the game had to end. I wanted to soak it up a bit more. It's sad that nothing lasts.

Typical Saturday for Cricket fans, huh?

Australia in Free Fall

Australia is falling faster than the acceleration due to gravity (which is 32 feet per second per second in case you are wondering). Mitchell Marsh's batting average is making baseball batting averages look like Don Bradman's. Australia is trying out players after players as if they have an entire army of tried and tested players to build. They are handing baggy green like a 2 dollar note. Australia is bad right now. Probably the worst they ever have been in their cricketing history.

Someone once said, "There are only bad options. It's about finding the best one."

Australia is unable to even do that. The whole team seems so fragile. They can't play spin, they can't play quality fast bowling, they can't bowl oppositions out when nothing is happening. They were pathetic in 3 of the 4 innings in this series.

Under Tim Paine, they haven't won a single match so far. They have been playing under Tim Paine for the last 6 months. An Aussie victory is rarer than watching Halley's comet nowadays.

A quick question: What are the things which Shaun Marsh and Mitchell Marsh have in common? a. Both play for Queensland. b. Both want to visit planet Jupiter some day. c. Both are bipedal human beings. c. Both can't bat when it matters.

Mitchell Marsh is the vice-captain of this current Australian team. Why? No human being knows the answer.
Mitchell Marsh is batting higher than Burj Khalifa (at number 5 in case you are wondering). Why? Again. No human being has the answer.

Mitchell Marsh has always been a waste of a plane ticket. Still, he keeps on getting opportunities as if failing to do so would anger him to burn this entire planet and humanity.

Shaun Marsh: Same story. Too many promises. Too little delivery. Mohammad Abbas made him look like a 5-year old kid who can't find his parents at the airport.
Shaun Marsh is a nicker.
Nickers should be dropped for they are the ones who provide fodder for the pouting lips of the slip cordon.

During whole series, Abbas could be seen punching the air celebrating a wicket as if he holds a personal grudge against it. He is number 3 bowler in test cricket right now in this galaxy.

Labuschagne made his debut in the first test. Labuschagne was picked to make bowlers tired.

During whole series, Labuschagne was seen mostly not with the bat in his hands, but with the ball.

Holland and Siddle: Not their fault. They have got each other's shoulders to cry on. They are angry with their parents for giving birth to them at such a time when the rest of Australia can't bat, bowl or field.

Starc: Can't do much when the batters are busy trying to find creative ways to get out and not give his quickly aging pair of legs some rest.
Lyon: The GOAT was fine. Should have been the vice-captain.

Other than Finch, Khawaja and Paine defiance in the first test and Lyon's brilliance in the second, it was a complete fiasco of a series for Australia. ICC rankings, for what they are worth considers them the number 5 team on this planet. It could get worse.

If you want to have a little chortle, listen to this at the end of the series from Australian captain:
"There's no doubt this has been happening for too long for the Australian cricket team, not just our Test team but probably domestically, there's a lot of collapses throughout our batting group.  A lot of it can be technical, some guys will be mental and other guys will be tactical or your plans not being right for certain bowlers. There's no shying away from the fact we've got a hell of a lot of work to do with our batting, and that's not just this team, it's throughout the whole country."

All I can mutter while watching this Australian team collapse from my couch, sipping a hot cup of tea is: "O Australia, Dear Australia! What happened to you, Sunshine?"

Cricket will miss you, Cooky!

My emotional development from a little kid living in the suburbs of India to an adult runs very parallel to generation Alastair Cook. He is leaving International Cricket after Oval test at the end of summer, but he won't ever be gone from my mind.

I liked Alastair Cook from the first glance I had at him when he was picked at the Nagpur test in India in 2006 as a 21-year-old teenager. He shocked the world by getting a 60 and 104* against two of the best spinners of that time. Making a hundred against India in India is something so many have dreamt and died without fulfilling. Cooky did it in the first attempt after flying 10000 miles from the Caribbean coming as a last-minute replacement! I knew that he was such a special talent. The chef, my hero, and role-model-to-be.

Before I saw Alastair Cook, I hated everyone I met. I hated the rules and regulations. I wanted to be this cool guy from the Hollywood movies. I wanted to be wearing V-neck t-shirts and going to the mall, looking cool on social media and all those things cool guys do. I must admit I have never been a patient guy. Since childhood, I have always wanted to do things fast. Everything. I hate to waste time. I want things quickly. Watching and following Cook in England's shirt changed me for the better. He taught me the value of placidness, humbleness, patience, and calmness. I was never the same after I saw Cook. It was the cricketing equivalence of Buddhism. I liked him and I will always like him from everything I have. He has had a huge role to play to wherever I am today.

So many things I do in life, I can find a bit of Alastair Cook in it. He is there with me. All the time. He has such an indelible impression on me. I was always a rebellion. He was the string which compelled me to be a gentleman. He is one of the big reasons, I have always tried to polite to everybody I met since high school until now. I believed in his methods. It was him who taught me that being a gentleman is not a choice, it is a responsibility. Every time I look at him, it gives me a sense of sanity in the world. He symbolizes something far greater than the numbers in cricket. He is a living symbol that traditional methods still work. He is an epitome of hard work, perseverance, focus, commitment, and sheer will. He scored so many runs with his limited scoring options. The thing with him was: If something wasn't working out for him, he will put it to bed and try to score runs with his strengths. He gave everything he had to be the best player he could be to the best of his abilities. His grit and determination are a story worth telling to the future generations of young cricketers.

As a batsman, Alastair Cook was something who I instantly fell for. Though I have always liked aggression in sports, watching Cooky bat was a different joy altogether. It was a perfect let-out from the ennui of life. It was pure art. Easy to the eyes. A complete package of concentration, knowing where your off-stump is and using your limited scoring areas to score unlimited runs. You can keep bowling him all day and he will keep batting for hours after hours. If you think you can frustrate him into throwing his wicket away, you are dreaming. His appetite for runs was as immense as I have ever seen. He retires as England's highest run-getter by some distance. As an England opener, you play half your games with Duke balls which are the toughest to bat with. There are no night-watchmen for openers and add England's struggling mostly in cricket, he often had to bat at most uncomfortable timings possible in tests. As a person, he is easily the nicest bloke you will ever find in cricket. If you ever introduce him to someone, they will give you a high-five.

I still get nightmares remembering the Ryan Harris delivery which got Cooky a golden duck in his 100th test at WACA in 2013-14. It is one of the lowest moments of my cricketing life and it will always be. It was December 16, 2013. I use the video of that dismissal to remind myself of the unfairness and cruelty of life.

Cook announced his retirement just 2 days after my 25th birthday. September is my favorite month by some distance. September 2018 won't be, because of him leaving. Cooky leaving the scene also reminds me of how quickly time flies. It seems only yesterday when I saw a handsome kid from Essex County making runs all over the world and now today he is leaving. My own life is so much part of him playing test cricket. It was as if I felt his success and failures vicariously. He always felt so close to heart.

I just turned 25. I started watching Alastair Cook when I was 13. I loved watching test cricket since the beginnings. Watching Cooky bat in a test match was a dream come true. I remember watching his MCG special 244* in my graduate lab the whole day when I was supposed to be reading a research paper. Such was his spell over me. I couldn't focus on anything when Cooky was there on the pitch. It was his aura.

I was thinking how will I ever explain the greatness of Cooky to someone who didn't witness his mastery. How will I ever explain living an entire lifetime in those 12 years of Cooky's career? How will I explain this to my kids in the future?

I am going to tell them his debut century at Nagpur to his record-breaking Ashes 2010-11 series. From his Edgbaston grand-grand daddy to his 3 hundred to beat India in India. I will definitely tell them his 14-hour marathon 263 in UAE to mastering the pink ball under flood-lights to make 243. Whenever the kids are bored, I will play them a few videos on the internet of him driving, cutting and pulling on his way to greatness.

My cricketing life has seen so many generations. Cook remains the most influential player among all those. I want to be Alastair Cook.

Australia destroyed at Trent Bridge

Trent Bridge 2015: Australia were humiliated by bowled out on 60 and eventually losing by an innings.
Trent Bridge 2018: Australia were thrashed by a record margin of 242 runs after conceding a record 481 runs.

The only difference in both occasions was: This time the coloring of clothes wasn't white.

In sports, there is a saying: "Defeat always hurts. The intensity of the pain is directly proportional to the manner in which it is achieved".

On Trent Bridge, the intensity of pain was as high as it goes for an Aussie supporter. The only thing which went in Australia favor whole day was winning the coin toss. It was all downhill from then.

Trent Bridge has a special place in England's heart. They do better here than most grounds in the country. In last few years, they beat Australia here in 2013 and 2015. They smashed the world record back then 444-3 against Pakistan here. Yesterday again, they beat the hell out of the Aussies' hapless bowlers to reach a whopping 481. This was absolute carnage.

Sure, it was a batting pitch and Australia are playing without at least 5 of their first-choice players. Also, England are arguably at their best in their ODI cricket history. But, there have been better pitches and worse bowlers to face and England have lost an ODI game to Scotland not too far ago. Therefore, we mustn't shrug this incredible accomplishment of England cricket off. Mind you, two of the England's players: Ben Stokes and Chris Woakes who would walk into this side weren't even playing.

The whole England batting lineup was a highlight clip. On their way to destruction, they created plenty of records. On the other hand, Australia had nowhere to hide. You know you have a problem when your most economical bowler is Aaron Finch.

England are looking like a side having all bases covered. With top-order firepower from Bairstow, Roy and Hales to Middle-order solidity by Root and Stokes and finally having Morgan, Buttler and Ali for explosive finishes. I know that It will amount to little until England do it in a global tournament but the future of England cricket has never looked brighter to me. 

Yet another abysmal winter for England

Insanity is doing same thing over and over again and expecting different results. ~ Albert Einstein

England finished their winter season today. Stats from this season are woeful. Played: 7. Won: 0, Lost: 5. Four of those losses were in Ashes and one was against the kiwis today. Lost both series. England leave Hagley oval tonight with same questions as they had when they first landed in Brisbane five months ago. Being denied by New Zealand's lower order meant they are now winless away from home in a record 13 matches. They have lost 5 of them by innings. That is bad even by England's standards.

Other than boxing day test, when Cooky saved England from whitewash and the performance in Christchurch this week, there is not much to show for during this whole dreadful season. From getting bowled out to 58 to losing by innings from 368-4 at WACA, this season had every ingredient of a nightmare. Stokesy was away for the Ashes, which had a huge impact on the series result, but there was none else to blame other than himself. He needs to learn and hopefully he will.

During this winter season, the performance of pacers other than Jimmy and Broad was absolutely stinking. While Broad and Anderson averaged 29 together, rest of the others averaged a whopping 72! You don't win many games when third, fourth and fifth bowlers average in excess of 70.

The team looks horrendously unstable. I love Cooky as much as anyone else, but 80% of his runs in last 20 innings have come in just 2 innings (243 against West Indies and 244* at MCG against Australia). He averaged less than 10 in this current series, which is simply not good enough for someone having scored more than 12,000 test runs. It is creating pressure on newbies like Stoneman. England would want him to come back with oodle of runs this summer. He is the best batsman in England and he has earned his right to call his time on career, but time also seems to be closing on him quickly.

While the white ball team is on a roll and arguably the best in the world right now, the test team in general looks abysmal. Trevor Bayliss is not having any answer to their overseas test woes. In my opinion, England cricket needs a fresh red ball coach and a new beginning starting with chopping and changing the coaching staff. ECB needs to prioritize Test cricket again. By focusing more on white ball after 2015 world cup, they seem to have forgotten about test cricket completely. Nothing seems to be working. The concern now is that England's overseas problems could start to erode a healthy home record that has propped up their Test standing over the last two years.

There are some silver linings from all this though. Malan looks like the find of the season. Vince was convincing on a number of occasions, though he still averages in the 20s after 13 games, but IMO he is worth the investment. Stoneman looks like a good bet considering the form Alastair Cook is in. Mark Wood is fit and back in the team. His pace will be crucial when England visits Australia again in the future. Anderson is as breezy as ever. In fact, like an old fine wine, he is getting better and better with age. Even in the disaster of Ashes, he managed to pick 17 wickets at a respectable average of 27. Today at Hagley Oval, he also overcame Courtney Walsh to become the bowler to have bowled maximum number of deliveries by a pace bowler in tests. That is an excellent testament to his longevity in the game and his services to English cricket. Broad endured his toughest ever year in 2017, but seems to be back reasonably well as his performances in New Zealand show. Jonny Bairstow has become arguably their most reliable batsman.

On the downside, Moeen Ali and Chris Woakes were disappointing. Woakes averages 61 with the ball overseas, which is ridiculously bad. Ali neither seems to be getting runs, nor pick up crucial wickets, which made him useful in the first place. Root has had 7 fifties this season and yet he failed to convert a single one of them into a hundred. Vince promises so much, yet he delivers so little. Mark Stoneman got a couple of starts in Ashes and looked good on a number of times. Even in this series he got two fifties, but time seems to be running out for him as well. Neither Stoneman nor Vince has nailed down their spots, though ECB is likely to stick with them for a while. They have experimented with Leach, Crane, Curran etc. but none of them have been very impressive. It will be interesting to see their starting XI in the coming summer.

There is just so much chaos that I can't possibly say. Serious changes are needed, otherwise touring teams next summer are going to give them a really hard time. I will watch from the sidelines as usual and wish them luck as always.

Mitchell Starc : The pace machine

Kingsmead, Durban, March 2, 2018 : South African faces are forlorn. Aussies are chuffed and why wouldn't they be? They look set to win this first test barring a miracle from Proteas. They took a lead of 189 runs on a track which is already getting tougher to bat on.

Australia sit in this comfortable position because of one man: The pace machine, the kryptonite to the tailenders, arguably the best fast bowler in the world right now: Mitchell Starc.
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South Africa are 158-6 with De Kock cleaned up by a beauty from GOAT (Lyon, in case you don't know how his teammates address him). Philander has come out to bat with AB looking as breezy as ever. South Africa are 193 runs behind and still hopeful to restrict the deficit to a minimum. They are aware that last three wickets of Aussies managed 100 runs to give them a respectable total of 351. Philander certainly is no mug with the bat and 7 fifties in test cricket reflect that. With Maharaj and Rabada yet to come and with useful partnerships with AB, their dream was not far off.

This will all turn out to be fantasy as Mitchell Starc is brought on to bowl with a ball which is 45 overs old. Three slips and a gully in place all licking their lips as Starcy starts on his way.

Starc to Philander: over 49.3 - A pure jaffa! Starc was going around the wicket to the right-hander and the ball angling towards philander pitched on middle, trying to crash onto leg stump. Philander, in my opinion, did what he should have done, tried to work it towards mid-wicket to grab a couple. It was a correct stroke.

Except he had no clue about the prowess of Starc with old ball when it reverses. The ball, changed its trajectory as if it was being controlled by a remote from Starc and straightened. It got a nick and Paine did the rest. Philander had not got a cat in a hell's idea how he got dismissed. He did everything right there. And yet he was walking back.
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Mitchell Starc seems to be getting better daily. He is currently 28 and at the perfect age for a fast bowler. At the right side of 30, the body of a fast bowler starts taking shape to generate enormous pace along with experience and maturity. He has already picked up 170 test wickets in 40 tests at a whopping strike rate of 49. Among all Australian bowlers with at least 150 test wickets, his strike rate is easily the best. (Johnson comes next at 51.1) Yesterday was the 9th instance of him taking 5 wickets in a test innings. His white ball stats are unparalleled. He was easily the man of the series in 2015 world cup with 23 wickets at a stunning average of 9! With the bat, he can put out a few lusty blows (like he did yesterday 35 off 25). His highest test score being 99. He is a complete cricketer, someone you would want every day of the week in your team. You will know what he will do. You can't survive it even after knowing. You know what is coming. He will do it anyway. Pure Fear. Full, fast, straight. Whether you try to hit with bat or pad, you are gone.

Starc often takes the pitch out of the equation. With the pitch assistance, he can destroy an entire tribe of cricketers. He is a fast bowling freak. 

The only silver lining when you get out to Starc in such mood is: The pain is brief. It is over as soon as it begins. And you will get sympathy from everyone as they know deep in their hearts that they couldn't have done much better either.
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Australian pace attack is a pure package. If the toe-breaker Starc doesn't get you, the inexhaustible Josh Hazlewood will. If they both don't, then the fierce Pat Cummins will. If you manage to avoid getting bruises and survive (without hitting yourself with bat in frustration), then the GOAT will. With Ashes being won at home, where Australia are traditionally indomitable, it was easy to brush their success off to home advantage and all that. But, here in Kingsmead, they showed why they are such a good bowling side. They were relentless throughout. In post-day presentation, even the great AB said, "They seemed to know what they were doing and they executed it to perfection."

Good teams often do that.

The obsession of Aussies with pace is not new. Starting with Lillee, Thomson, Lee, Johnson, Tait and now Starc, Hazlewood, Cummins, Stanlake, Coulter-nile, Pattinson. They seem to have a whole army of fast bowlers ready to fire at word go. Jarrod Kimber has written an excellent article over it.
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Keshav Maharaj is out to bat in the middle with South Africa in deep trouble. The resistance lasts for 5 balls when Josh Hazlewood put him out of his misery. Pitched outside the off, nipping back in to hit the top of offstump. The dream wicket for any fast bowler.

Out comes Kagiso Rabada. His averages don't reflect it. But, he can be a stubborn pain the a** for the fielding side. On numerous occasions, he has frustrated the hell out of captains as a night-watchman. His dead-bat technique is often reliable. He took the single off the last ball of Hazlewood to get off the mark and retain the strike. Now, He was going to be up against Mitchell Starc. This was going to be some show.

I was cursing at home. Why in God's name will you take single off the last ball when the batting-freak is batting so well at the other end? For Christ' sake, Give that guy some brain. I was angry and cursing at Rabada. It was a no-brainer. AB should have taken as much strike as possible and try to push proteas towards 200.

Starcy bowled a half-volley outside the off-stump to Rabada and Rabada put it away towards covers for a couple. I was again cursing why did he come back for the second when there was a chance to get off the strike. Starc had set him up so beautifully. It was like a predator setting eye on a prey. I knew that a full, fast, straight delivery was coming. Shaun Pollock mentioned it on air that Rabada should be ready for a straight delivery. It was such common sense. Starc did as was expected. Full, fast, straight onto the middle-stump.

Rabada still managed to avoid hitting the ball with the bat. There was no going back from there. Umpire raised the fingers. Rabada opted to go for a review, more in hope than in expectation. He knew that he had no chance. AB knew he had no chance. Umpire knew he had no chance. Starc knew he had no chance. I, sitting at my home knew that he had no chance. Everyone in the universe knew that he had no chance. Third umpire did the rest.
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Morne Morkel was the last man out there. Starc had four balls left. Now, AB was realizing his mistake of not retaining the strike when he had the chance. The question now was : how on earth was Morne Morkel going to survive those 4 missiles by Starc? First ball he faced was a wild swing and a miss. All the ooh-aahs from the Aussies slip-cordon followed. Next ball, Starcy cleaned him up with another beauty. The ball pitched on leg-stump and first hit the pads before crashing onto stumps. AB was left stranded on 71. South Africa had lost their last 5 wickets for 12 runs, while Australian 8,9,10 milked more than 100 runs. Tells you about the difference Starc makes on a cricket field. This was high-class fast bowling at his best. (Not to forget the contribution of GOAT when he got 2 wickets in his first over)
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For South Africa, this should be an eye-opener of what is about to follow for the next 3 weeks. If they were thinking of their first home test series win against Australia, they better think again. This young, confident Australian team looks so hard to stop. Let's all wait and watch what unfolds further.

My obsession with pace bowling

Years ago, I started watching a game called "Cricket". Nothing hooked me more with this game than the madness of "fast bowling". Every time I close my eyes and try to imagine a cricketer I would have loved to become like, these guys come to mind:
Shoaib Akhtar, Brett Lee, Mitchell Johnson, Shaun Tait, Dale Steyn, Shane Bond, Dennis Lilee, Jeff Thomson, Mitchell Starc, Pat Cummins.

There is a hidden implied "f*ck you" when someone beats you for pace in cricket. It is like the cricketing equivalent of Boxing. Going head to head, knocking the guy out with a straight punch on his jaws. No technique, no bullsh*t. Just raw, plain butchery. Sure, Cricket is a game of skills bla, bla, bla. You have got to swing the ball, then put it in right areas, try to gain reverse swing as the ball gets old, bowl according to your field and all that. But, everything is irrelevant if you can bowl so fast that you are able to get inside the reaction time of the batsman and then grab him by his throat, punch him in the face, kick the stumps and then come back almost innocently.

Every time a batsman gets out to a delivery, he starts to think about the mistake he made. Perhaps I should have let it go, perhaps I should have been more aggressive, perhaps I should have played that with a straighter bat and soft hands, maybe the umpire made a mistake and all that. There is always a scope of improvement every time you get out. You promise yourself to do things differently the next time. You promise to do more nets, you promise to cure that weakness of your game. You intend to fulfill those promises.

But, if you get cleaned up by extra quick pace, something which was beyond your control, some missile fired at you so fast that you barely saw it coming and your stumps were shattered or pads were hit before you even could react to it, there is not much you can do. It will just create enormous self-doubt in your head and you will never remain the same afterwards. The fact that playing that fast ball will always be beyond your reach, makes you question yourself as a batsman on a very fundamental level. It questions the very essence of you as a human being. In cricket, there is no bigger joy than watching your opposition give up before they have even fought. Enormous speed does that. Going inside the reaction time of someone and then beating the shit out of a batsman is simply surreal. Those are the moments you grow up for.

As a batsman, you are never in control while playing ultra-fast bowling. Already you are worried about your wife, your parents, your friends, your career, your runs and so on. With extra-fast bowling, now you have got to worry about your health too. Some fast bowlers could be really mean. They secretly think like, "No. I am not going to get you out. You will beg me to get you out. You will beg the umpire to not give a wide or no ball while I am bowling. Be scared. Be very scared." Sometimes they are f*cking psychos. They don't give a sh*t about cricket. They just want to break your jaw. They just want to watch you bleed.

While batting, You can never take the safety of your body for granted. You have got to have a healthy respect for your limbs. Body is a cruel mistress. It can't stand over the tremendous impulse generated by a cricket ball fired at a high velocity. It will break down. Brain is protected by helmets in cricket, heart isn't. You need both to live.

Bowling fast, though appreciated by everyone, can be as difficult to achieve. So many try, so few succeed. It is not natural for a human being to throw some round object over his shoulders with 95 miles an hour. Even biologically, human genes are thought to have an upper limit of around 100 MPH. To achieve this limit is to stand up on the face of God itself and laugh over it. Bowling fast requires tremendous sacrifice. You have to put your whole body on line, not worry about your limbs. Bowling fast requires a touch of madness. Why put yourself through so much pain? As a human being, the general tendency is to run away from the pain, not walk towards it.

Because bowling fast is not just about the numbers. It is about sheer joy in knowing that you are among few elite people to have walked across this God's green earth who can throw a ball stupendously fast. Bowling fast is something much much bigger than ourselves. The hidden beauty in bowling fast is impossible to describe. It is so extraordinarily beautiful. The madness involved, the applause earned because of going off the charts of speedometer. None is looking at the batsman or the runs. Every eye is on electronic scoreboard. Everyone is excited to see what reading of speed of last ball is about to display. Batsman is not playing the ball. He is living a nightmare out of it. No human being is able to forget a ball which intends to kill you at 100mph. Cricket ball doesn't get faster than that. It is the human body limit. We are here to fight ourselves to break the biological barrier. Human hands are weak. I mean, ridiculously weak. Our biology doesn't support us throwing a small piece of rock with supersonic velocity or something like that. The connective tissues aren't strong enough to provide ample thrust for that. We are limited by the very essence of being a human being.

But, Just because Evolution made our bodies so fragile and weak is no reason to give up. This is what makes us humans too. We overcame every challenge nature ever threw at us till now. Every limitation is always only in our heads. Bowling fast without any boundaries is one way to challenge the supernatural. The most perfect way. If you really want to do something, the sky is the limit.

Coming back to my personal opinions, I have always loved speed. Reading, writing, typing, walking, running, speaking, you name it. It saves a lot of time. Just get to the point. But, sadly I was never gifted enough for being an express quick bowler. I have always hated a part of me because of this. In high school or college, when many guys used to bowl faster than I did, I have felt depressed and lonely. I would have exchanged my academic skills in a blink for that express pace. I used to try harder and harder to get that sort of pace, which makes the batsman piss themselves. I just wasn't never good enough. My action resembled to that of James Anderson. The front-arm action which didn't help the cause either. I watched so many tutorials, read books on fast bowling, imagined myself bowling quick. All of that to make myself faster, someone who can get you out without needing assistance from pitch, fielders or the umpires.

Constant injuries didn't help me either. Since I was tiny, I have been cursed in picking up injuries. I have always seemed to attract them like a magnet. In this short life, they have pushed my body a lot further. I broke my hands, my fingers and so many other organs in order to acquire pace. I have slept in a state of full body-pain on most nights. So many pain-killers. Just to achieve one life-long goal: Fast bowling. I always wanted to be the quickest someone ever faced. It just wasn't meant to be.

Very recently, I was watching a tutorial on bowling with side-arm action. Though it is recommended for more pace, It becomes really difficult to control the line. Also, the way you land while bowling side-arm is a tricky issue. I have tried it a lot. My left knee and right sheen have almost given up. They hurt and I really mean it. It is difficult to even walk straight without hobbling.

Anyway, personal things aside, speed is a lovely mistress to have. It saves the most important resource of your life: your time.

Just bowl fast and knock them over. Good Luck!

The gloom of WACA

It is done and dusted. Before Christmas. Yet again. England endured once again one of those WACA tests. They have been losing on this ground since Dinosaurs used to roam around the earth. They have only ever won one Test in the western Australian outpost back in 1978 and last avoided defeat there in 1986. This is abysmal even by England's poor standards.

In many ways, the WACA always brings out my worst memories. I will describe only two recent ones:
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                          Ashes 2013-14 WACA test (13-17 December 2013)

In Ashes 2013-14, when Cooky got a first ball jaffa by Ryan Harris (it was 16th December 2013), my heart sulked and I wanted to be dead.

WACA test in 2013 made me an atheist. The moment when England's second innings began, I had never felt as excited as that before in my life. Cooky was my favorite test cricketer back then. He was playing his 100th test match and captaining England who was 2-0 down and the only hope of retaining the Ashes was to save the game by batting out 5 sessions. Cooky had never got a golden duck in tests before. He was the highest scorer in England's first innings(He got 72). It was GAME ON.

Ryan Harris starts with the first ball. There was a huge crack in the good length area at the WACA. Cooky was on strike. Harris (known as Rhino among his team-mates) starts running. The whole of Australia and the whole world was watching. Harris picks up the pace in the background clapping noise of the WACA. He goes past the umpire, his biceps brushing his ears and he delivers the ball. Then this happened:

"Did it hit the seam? Did it hit a crack? Did it swing after pitching? Whatever it did, the opening delivery Harris conjured for Alastair Cook in the second innings of the WACA Test was truly a collector's item. this was an offering of symbolic value far beyond the fact of its taking a most important wicket in an extraordinary way. It summed up how hard Australia had worked to give themselves a chance in the series, and how wondrously all that work paid off, with a little serendipity thrown in. For the rest of his life, Harris is entitled to dine out on this ball, just as Cook is entitled to have nightmares about it."

Harris ran so hard after the wicket as if he was about to take off to the moon. None was catching him. The crowd and commentators were exuberant. All I could hear was them saying, "Oh! STRAIGHT-AWAY" after I had heard the clinking of stumps. Cooky didn't even look back and just looked at the large screen. He was on his way back. Walk of shame. Here he was. Captain of the side who had to lead from the front to give England a chance of saving the Ashes. And he was gone for a first-baller. Life can be indeed cruel.

For me, it didn't stop there. I could almost hear my heart-beat beating so fast. I thought that I will get a heart-attack. I just put my head in pillow. I put the television on "Mute" and just started chanting, "it's just a game. it's just a game. it's just a game." like a madman. A part within me just died that moment. I had never hated everything on earth so badly. All I could do was utter the swear words for Australians in a non-stop manner. I was abusing and cursing God himself. How could he do that? Why did he do that? Why would he do that to me? Was it part of some grand plan made by him? Was Cooky's getting out related to some greater good of the universe? Will Cooky get more peace in after-life because of that golden duck? Then I couldn't keep it together and I just said, "Screw God. God doesn't exist. God shouldn't exist. And even if he does and he let this happen, I am done with him." I never felt so dejected in my life than that moment. The expectation was enormous. Ah! Expectations. They are the source of all the pain.

Australia regained the urn at WACA on December 17, 2013, after enduring 3 successive Ashes losses.

The only silver lining from that WACA test was: Ben Stokes made a brilliant test hundred before England lost. So, at least WACA did manage to give us an English Hero in the form of "Ben Stokes" who arguably is the most valuable player in the world right now. I will take that.
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                  Ashes 2017-18 WACA test (14-18 December 2017)

There was so much build-up to this match. England was as usual 2-nil down in the series. The good part was that they were the previous Ashes winners, so that meant that they only had to avoid defeat here to maintain a chance of retaining the urn. England had played well at Gabba and in the day-night test at Adelaide but just were unable to win key moments. Australia was not as good as everyone thought they would be. They just managed to hang on for a longer period and they looked like a team on the downhill in second innings in Adelaide. I had a genuine belief in my heart that England was only one session away from breaking Australian resistance.

I didn't want to feel like I did in 2013 WACA test. So, I made a pact with myself. I won't follow the ball-by-ball commentary or live action for this test match. Just an occasional fling at twitter or cricinfo. I won't watch the WACA test as it had brought so much trauma in 2006, 2010 and 2013. This was a place comparable to hell itself for me. Life seemed to be at its lowest point. Aussies used to murder the opposition at WACA. No matter how much they were struggling previously, at WACA Aussies used to bend the laws of nature itself to crush anyone who came in their way.

Because of my pact, I missed out a dream-filled day from England on day 1. England was 305-4 with David Malan making a scintillating hundred. Every time I watched the score I imagined him playing the shots against Starc, Hazlewood, Cummins, and Lyon. It appeased me. I really thought that this was the day England were going to turn it around. I envisioned a scoreline of England winning the Ashes 3-2. No team had won the Ashes from being 2-nil down in the last 90 years. So I thought that it was probably due anyway. Nature will conspire to make it happen. You know, nature just doesn't like anomaly like "never happened in 90 years". Bring on day 2!

It was day 2 when the hopes started to fade away. Though I was so happy for Jonny making his first Ashes ton, From a position of 368-4, England did what they always do. Explode. Hand over the advantage on a silver platter to Australia.

They got all out on 403 and hence lost a massive chance of batting Australia out of the match. Last 6 wickets adding a dreadful 35 runs. The score was undoubtedly competitive, but it was nowhere near safe. The pitch was dry, no sideways moment and England's quicks, though skillful, are medium pace at best. Australia ended the day 200 runs behind with seven wickets in hand. Smith on batting on 92.

All I could think that night was how England was going to get early morning breakthroughs and gain a handy lead of 50-60 runs which could be decisive on widening cracks of WACA. I was thinking how Steve Smith will be so alone in fighting it out with only Shaun Marsh as recognized batsman left. Next man in was Mitchell Marsh, who I have always thought as the worst test all-rounder to have ever played for Australia. I often used to joke with my brother about how Mitch Marsh was a waste of plane ticket and Australia could better use that ticket to send someone else, not necessarily a player who could at least bring something to the table.

Next day was December 16, 2017. The nemesis itself. Smith will bat out the whole day for Australia. The hope of regaining the Ashes will be sucked out after 16th December.

On this day, my worst fears came true. I promised myself that I won't watch the scoreboard for the whole day. I will keep myself busy with research work while silently wishing for England to do well. It was a tacit agreement between me and England. I won't watch the score and they will deliver me the good news at stumps.

I fulfilled my promise. England, not so much.

On this day, Australia plummeted England into the ground by hammering 346 runs for the loss of just one wicket. Steve Smith made his highest test score and Mitchell Marsh got his maiden test hundred (that too a daddy one). I felt as if Mitchell Marsh was laughing and cursing at me. I saw the highlights. He was so excited and celebrated so hard on getting his hundred. He totally shut me up. I was speechless. Though I was dejected at England losing their way, I felt strangely peaceful. There was a serene beauty in knowing that you tried your best, it just wasn't meant to be. It was the victory of mastery over fate. In some corner of my wretched heart, I felt happy for that bastard. I let it go. All my anger vanished. Breathe. just breathe. Let it go.

I have been an English cricket fan for as long as I have watched cricket. And because of that Australia remain the ultimate cricketing enemy to me. I have always wanted them to lose against England no matter what. But, I have always secretly admired the way they go on about their business. Always taking the game forward. "You can win from anywhere", Shane Warne used to say. The sheer ruthlessness and dominance of Oz have always inspired me. I wanted England to be like them. Brutally annihilating the opposition. Historically, England has always been soft. They have never been ruthless. They are just happy to scrap for a series win. Once they win a series, they let it slip away. They never go for the kill. They will get happy with a scoreline of 3-2 as long as they are on top. I have always hated that. I wanted England to be wild hunters. I wanted England to be those whack-job guys you meet, who after being punched in the face will spit blood and a few teeth and will tell you to fucken try harder. I wanted them to be bloody aggressive. Not mushy and weak. There was always a beauty in which Australians played cricket. The way they used to beat the shit out of everyone was spectacular. You will almost feel the happiness being sucked out of you. You will even secretly enjoy it. That was their aura.

Anyway, Long story short. Australia, after 16th December 2017 ended, were in such a position from where they couldn't lose the test match. It was either England's loss or with extreme weather interruption a stalemate of a draw.  Next day wasn't so bad. England managed to stop Steve Smith from getting a triple ton and Mitchell Marsh from a double. It was hard to even believe that they managed to take 5 Australian wickets within a few hours of play. The lead was sizeable already. But with rain and using the bat effectively, it could be saved.

Rain did its part. England players not so much. James Vince received the alleged ball of the 21st century. That missile from Mitchell Starc's hand pitched on middle stump line at 90 miles an hour, hit one of the WACA cracks and instead of going to pads of James Vince, changed direction as if it was being controlled by Starc telepathically. It deviated dramatically and disturbed the off-stump. It was the most spectacular ball I had ever seen. It was UNPLAYABLE. I couldn't imagine anyone avoiding at least a leg before to that ball. James Vince was befuddled. His face was someone like a boy who can't find his parents on a crowded airport. He had no idea what the hell just happened. Starc celebrated as hard as he could. England was fighting like a cornered cucumber.

Last day was a formality. Even with the rain, England couldn't save it. It was all over. Hazlewood spared them the pain. It was almost as if he was consoling them, "It's okay. Travel safe. It's not the end of the world". Aussies had regained the urn on December 18, 2017. The Christmas was still a week away and the Ashes was back where it belongs for now. England was not disappointed. They were just sad. They knew that they were beaten by a team who were genuinely better than them.

To me, the gloom and horror of WACA continued. The only silver lining for me in this entire episode was, "At least it was WACA farewell match." No more agony. Next matches in western Australia will happen in the newly built stadium. I can only hope that the ghost of WACA doesn't know the way there.

A Rohit's Masterclass

Another day. Another India-Sri Lanka ODI. "How do they manage to play all these games and I still manage to get so excited with all of it?", that's the question I was asking today morning before the game started.  India were on a very slippery slope. They were 1-0 down in a best of three match series. One tiny misstep and the series is gone. Just like that. India don't lose ODI series to Sri Lanka. At least not at home anyway. A lot was at stake.

Sri Lanka, on the other hand were flying. Not too much time had passed since India annihilated them 9-0 across formats in their own home and all they could feel at the end of the series was: "Thank God. That's over". This time around, Sri Lanka were playing better. They almost had India make the all time lowest ODI total at Dharamshala. They had avoided the white-wash in test series. They had one hand on the ODI series trophy already. From being 9-0 down, this was almost a surprise. Even for them. This is the stuff dreams usually are made of. Every Sri Lankan fan was happy. Coach was happy. Nick Pothas (Sri Lankan coach) even termed the Dharamshala win as: "We have found a winning formula." Players were high on confidence. Perera was enjoying the job of captain.

As as Indian cricket fan, Dharamshala was shameful. It was the worst batting from top order I had ever seen from any Indian team. If I had my way, I would have fired those XI guys or banned them for a year or so. I was boiling with anger. "How dare they? We don't reach 29-7. FFS, Use the brain to bat and all that". Everything coming out of my mouth was either a swear word or a disparaging remark about the performance of Indian team. It was dreadful to watch. They batted like a bunch of clown that day.

But as most of you must be aware of, the anger of a cricket fan is always ephemeral (At least most of the times). I was excited again to watch Men in blue take on the field today. The onus was on Rohit and co. to keep the series alive. Sri Lanka had finally managed to break their 12 game losing streak. No whitewash at least this time.

Sri Lanka won the toss and chose to bowl first as part of the plan. The winning formula as described by Nick Pothas. It was a good start to the game for them.

Sadly, the good part ended there.

Sri Lanka were caught in the jaws of the ultimate monster Rohit Sharma. Let me tell you whole tale from beginning.

It started with Dhawan-Rohit bromance. One of the best ODI partnerships in modern times. The masterstroke of putting Rohit-Dhawan together at 2013 champions trophy  has been ridiculously successful. All they do is pile up hundred after hundred partnerships at the top and help India win games of cricket. Both Dhawan and Rohit complement each other so well. Dhawan gives Rohit breathing space in the infancy of the innings. One of the reasons Rohit has really clicked as an opening batsman can be attributed to the fact that Dhawan gets going quickly. Since Rohit tends to take his time, Dhawan breaks the shackles at start and Rohit joins the party later. He doesn't need field restriction or any such bullshit. When he hits the ball, it stays hit. The ball goes into the crowd or in the car parking area or wherever he wants it to. Dhawan on the other hand is a sweet timer of the ball and he has often lost his wicket in pursuit of quick runs in beginning.

Start was crucial. Rohit started cautiously. His first fifty came off 65 balls. The blade was being sharpened. Dhawan had got out after a well-made 68 off 67.

Partnership with Iyer: The plan of the duo was to tuck it around. Nudge for single or double. Keep the game moving forward. Shreyas was in good nick as well. He was desperate to get the monkey of horror debut off his back. He failed miserably in his first ODI at Dharamshala and he was determined to more than make up for that here at Mohali. He played a fine innings of well made 88 off 70 balls. For someone only playing his second ODI, I'd take that everyday of the week.

Rohit finally got to his hundred. The celebration was a bit muted. Game was still on. Sri Lanka were still in the game by virtue of keeping the run rate in check. Sadly this will be the last time, they will actually feel like being in the game. For Rohit Sharma, hundred meant his second wedding anniversary had just got a little sweeter. The missus was there in the balcony. Both were sending kisses to each other. It was dream stuff for Rohit. Everything was going as part of his plan now.

Now it was time for monster to wake up. We all know how dangerous Rohit Sharma is when he completes the hundred after 30th over. Sri Lanka had till now managed to keep their head out of the water. Runs were coming, but the scoring rate was nowhere close to being in unchaseable zone. "No worries yet", thought Thisara Perera.

Thisara perera is an interesting captain. I felt extremely sad for Angelo Mathews who had to quit captaincy because of the twin failures: First Thisara Perera drops a sitter which eliminates Sri Lanka from CT'17 and then Zimbabwe beating Sri Lanka at home in an ODI series. Imagine Perera holding onto the catch, Sri Lanka reaches the semis of an ICC tournament and suddenly Angelo wouldn't have felt pressure to resign from the best job he ever had.

Perera had a dream debut as captain at Dharamshala. Everything he was touching was turning to Gold. Win the toss: Check. Bowl first: Check. (Manage to put India to 29-7: Dream comes true) Skittle India out cheaply: Check. Win the game with oodle of overs to spare: Check.
It all came together there.

Not so much at Mohali.

Rohit Sharma was the mastermind behind it.

From first 100 to second 100, he reached at a ridiculous rate. Everything he was hitting was going for a six. Their best bowler Lakmal was torn apart by Hitman. When Lakmal was hit for 4 sixes an over, it was almost a relief for him. Nuwan Pradeep fought and fought hard. He was eyeing for that wide line Yorker. Rohit decimated him. He ended up with figures of 10-0-106-0. The highest conceded by a Sri Lankan bowler in an ODI (beating Murlitharan 10-0-99-0 in Sydney). Rohit was hitting sixes in every part of the ground. He was shuffling across the stumps and hitting it over square-leg. When the line was straighter, he was scooping them over fine-leg for six. When the fine-leg was pushed back, he was lifting them over mid-off for six. He was not playing against Sri Lanka, he was playing with them. Not even playing, rather toying with them.

In many ways, the second double hundred was inevitable. Not to boast my omniscient cricketing brain, but I had a feeling of this when he reached 120. He was hitting it as clean as whistle. The pitch had eased out and Sri Lanka doesn't have express pace. The only thing in the way was the fact that the square boundaries are huge at Mohali. But the insanity of the innings was that each one of the sixes was aimed at spectators' heads. It was as if he had a personal grudge against someone in the crowd and he was trying to hit him constantly. It was a marvelous innings to watch.

Now Rohit is having the best day of his life, while Pradeep and Lakmal are having their respective worsts. Last game at Dharamshala, Rohit was having the worst game as captain and Lakmal was having his finest. Cricket, You little beauty.

Finally, he reached from 197 to 201 with two doubles. The missus was crying now, while the whole India was applauding the Hitman show. Hardly you will see any other sport with so many emotions attached there. I can't speak from first hand experience, but I can certainly understand what she must have been going through. It is like feeling helpless as all you can do is pray. You can't change the outcome of what is going to happen next ball, whether your spouse is going to play a rubbish shot and get out, whether he will hit for a six, whether he will get hurt from a delivery. All you can do is hold your hands together and watch things unravel. That must be hard. Being so helpless. It is almost playing the innings vicariously.

This was his third double ton in ODI. It is mental to even think that all other players (around 2,300 other ones) have managed just 4 double centuries, while he sits alone at the top with 3. If everything goes as per plan, in not very far distant future, he may get another double ton. All he has got to do is to ensure that he reaches his hundred around 30 over mark and beat the hell out of the ball from then onward.

Watching this innings was a moment of utmost joy for me. This was a must win game for India and once again they managed to come back from the brink. They had managed to come back from 1-0 behind to win the series against New Zealand as well. I have a feeling that they are going to pull it off in Vizag as well. Can't wait to see that.