I loved to play cricket since childhood - more so because unlike other team games there was no need to run much, jump, snatch, pull, push or fall. May be that was the reason why cricket was termed as the Gentleman’s game. I was the super star in my apartment. There were only 10 boys of different age groups who met in the evening to play. No match would take place in my absence. It was indeed ego boosting, but it was much later I realised that they wouldn’t start because I was the only guy to have got a good bat, stumps & also a ball!
At school the scenario was completely different. Guys were much more strong, heftier & athletic. To match their stamina was an altogether different ball game for me. But still, I don’t know for what reason, they would always select me in their team of 14. And I would be the 14th player.
Match would happen between 2 divisions after each test or exams got over. More than the match, my tension would be about asking permission from my mom to reach home late that day.
My prayers would start from early morning of my last exam. I would keep praying that only 11 people of our team should turn up for the match, and I should have a place in the team. Thankfully God never disappointed me, though I could sense a disappointment on my team mates’ face. I would console myself that it isn’t because they had to take me but it is because better players didn’t turn up.
There were enough batsmen to bat, and enough bowlers to deliver in our team. And I was a bad fielder. Winning the toss was important. Fielding first could at least give me some hope that I could bat in the second innings. But batting first could be miserable, because you will have to field under the scorching heat even if you didn’t get a chance to bat.
When our team fielded – I would keep looking at my captain if he considers me for at least one important over that could change the match completely. The captain always ignored me. I was always asked to field at a place where ball rarely would come. Once in 3 years the batsman would make a folly of giving me a catch, and I would generously drop it! End result – I would be asked to change my position. This time to a place where catch would come every 5 years!
When our team batted – The moment our guys started batting, my prayers would start. All my team mates would be celebrating each run. I will be praying that all the 9 guys should get out in the first 5 overs itself, and that I should pad up to bat an inning that which Kapil Dev played against Zimbabwe in 1982 World Cup (175 not out!). God never answered me.
I would go home completely drained & tanned. My sisters would ask me so how was the match, who won? I proudly would say, ‘we won.’ The next question would be so how many runs did you make, and how many wickets did you take, and I would reply cricket is a team game, individual performances should not be considered.
My urge for playing a dream inning started at the age of 13, and I am 31 now, and am still looking for an opportunity. So is there any team who needs a captain? I am game!