Tag Archives: Sunil Gavaskar

The 4:00am Dream – Part II

Ankush Kumar in the second part of his article on Sachin Tendulkar talks how hollow Indian cricket fans become when they criticise the only man who continues to be in the side even when the other 14 have changed on multiple occasions in the last two decades. 

Top Image

Sachin Tendulkar is on fire’! He has stroked a master class century. Oh! Now surely India will lose the match. Tendulkar and centuries is jinxed. Knock! Knock! (Critics) have you ever held a bat in your hand, and more than 40 million fans hooting for you in the ground? Have you ever imagined that red/white leather ball hurling towards you at a speed on knots? I am sure the answer is a BIG NO!

You actually haven’t managed to even become the ‘TENDULKAR’ (how ironical Na) in your gully cricket team. Before you jump to illogical analysis, please verify facts, and in your defence stop comparing him to other match winners. Because (critics) there was a time for a good period of eleven years, where the ‘MASTER’ was a one man army.

The other day I met a journalist. He had a very profound (according to him) theory on the ‘master’. He said ‘someone who does just one thing for twenty two years’ is supposed to perfect the art. Sachin Tendulkar is just an average cricketer’. I checked the background of the journalist, he came from a defence background, and it established the theory ‘that these people have their brains in their knees’.

This post is being written at a time when ‘Indian cricket yet again is going through a crisis’. The critics have also raised eyebrows on the man saying ‘he is prolonging his retirement because of his endorsement contracts’. Really! Do you people have absolutely no work?

When our generation started watching cricket, one advertisement was very popular, that of Sunil Gavaskar donning suits for a brand called DINESH. The cricketer was well past his playing days, endorsements were not as big as it is today; still the man was a face on national television. You really think that the ‘master’ will not be a face to reckon with post his playing days?

Critics have argued, the man plays only for records. OH GOD! I feel like taking a chopper and you know what follows! (Hope you do). In a country where the population exceeds a billion, only fifteen chosen ones play for the ‘INDIAN CRICKET TEAM’. Out of that, fourteen faces have changed in the last two decades, but one face remains constant and that is of the ‘Master Blaster’. Someone who has stayed in the game for so long and played with the highest pedigree all records are meant to be his. Isn’t it?

Critics, when was the last time you were the cynosure of all eyes? Perhaps on your birthday but even that lasts only for twenty four hours. Or maybe your marriage, but even that lasts till your better half arrives on the scene. But this man has been India’s favourite ‘Son’ for twenty two years. Even today as the man nears his end, he boasts of a fan following cut across all generations.

Hence next time you raise your stupid arguments on the man remember your work is to ‘throw stones on the man, and his duty is to convert them into milestones’.

At The Bottom

 

 

 

My First Press-Box Experience: Blissful

press box india

Shashank Kishore recounts his emotional and overjoyed experience as he entered the press-box for the first time.  

Covering cricket for a living is a privilege very few of us get to enjoy, the first press box experience being the most memorable. Fortunately, I’ve have had the opportunity to report on two World Cups, which I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. But the feeling I had when I entered the press box for the first time is something I find very tough to describe and I’ll try my best!

Having grown up watching cricket on television and in the stadium, my eyes were always on the pavilion and above, where the journalists were seated. I often imagined how it would feel like to sit there and work. When I finally had my opportunity on March 6, 2011, a sea of emotions engulfed me. Firstly, being in the presence of some of the veterans in the sports journalism world and of course getting an opportunity to interact with a few former players turned commentators. I was star-struck.

But what I also realised was, it was here that you had the liberty to share your views with your compatriots, unlike a normal cricket discussion with friends or family which bordered on which team you were supporting or who your favourite player was. And of course the networking with journalists across different organisations, their experiences and of course a few anecdotes thrown in, makes the press box a place of envy.

I remember reaching the press-box as early as 12pm for a 2:30pm start on my first day, definitely the excitement of being there got me going from very early in the morning. I also remember dressing formally for the occasion, almost as if I was inaugurating the arena, so as to create a good impression. The joy of swiping my pass and reaching the elevator hadn’t struck me yet when Sunil Gavaskar entered the elevator. To his left was another gentleman, who has played a bit of cricket. His posters adorned by wall. Something I used to wait for week after week.

Sourav Ganguly! Two legends on either side, my mind kept saying if I could ever speak to them, I could die a happy man. But I was trembling with joy and excitement, a little odd too, and that lasted all of 20 seconds as we reached the top floor from where the journalists and commentators enter their respective zones. I really needed to talk to Sourav and tell him how big a fan of him I was.

Could I do that? Remember I was a journalist representing the host broadcasters. Would it be right for me to approach him and ask for an autograph or a photograph? What would other fellow journalists think? So many thoughts crossed my mind and finally that desire evaporated. But that urge returned at the most unlikeliest of places. The loo, where I bumped into Sourav again. The most unlikely of places to shake hands, you’d think?

Soon after that, was the dinner break and obviously I felt it was rude to interrupt anyone while having dinner. And hence my dream of meeting and talking to my hero was fast evaporating. I didn’t have the pressure to do a traditional match report and send it across soon after the match and that somewhat helped me enjoy the sights and sounds of the intensity that comes along with working on a cricket match.

And as I was leaving the press box, a hand tapped me on the shoulder. It was Sourav. I didn’t know why, how. I was blank, but it was a colleague, who works closely with Sourav for a few television bytes, who went up to him and requested him if he could oblige for a photograph. But little did I know that I would have more than just a photograph. A cup of coffee past 11pm, well past dinner, along with a healthy discussion on India’s World Cup campaign, my admission to my childhood hero and of course a picture that I will cherish and treasure all my life.

In my next blog, I’ll dwell into my experiences across different press boxes. Till then, adios!