Monday, July 29, 2013

Tete-a-Tete with the Stani Army

First of all we would like to thank the members of Stani Army for taking time out of their schedule and talking to us.

Stani Army with Chacha cricket out in Sri Lanka at the 2012 T20 World Cup
It is impossible to miss them if you watch any Pakistan match. They turn the match atmosphere into that of a carnival and ensure that there are no dull moments in the matches for the fans present at the ground and the ones viewing on TV. 

DieHard Cricket Fans spoke to them about their inception, activities, planning and much more.  

Saturday, July 13, 2013

MS Dhoni: The Golden Calf

In two weeks, this is my second article on him. And I just can’t help writing. If someone keeps you stuck like a barnacle to your television set even after the bewitching hours and makes you transfer his videos to the cell, recurrently, till you have reached a phase where you can just pull your hair, I don’t think you can help much.

After Sachin’s retirement, One Day cricket had nearly kicked the bucket for many of us. It didn’t tantalize the cricket fan in us anymore. It was humdrum. 15 were needed of the last six. We went to sleep.

And then India won with one wicket left!

“I think I am blessed with a good cricketing sense.” The skipper could not have been more on-the-nose in his self assessment.

Friday, July 12, 2013

The Ashes Begin: With A Bang

Its probably the littlest trophy in the whole sporting world. Certainly one of the oldest. More have been written about the Ashes than any other sporting contest. And why not? After all it carries a little poem too.

When Ivo goes back with the urn, the urn;
Studds, Steel, Read and Tylecote return, return;
The welkin will ring loud,
The great crowd will feel proud,
Seeing Barlow and Bates with the urn, the urn;
And the rest coming home with the urn.

Its been a long buildup to the double headed Ashes that are going to be played over the next 8 months. 10 Tests between the oldest rivals. 

Saturday, July 6, 2013

The Yumm Yuss Dee Effect!!

They were right when they said, “you never know when it happens.” And what I’ve lately cryptanalyzed is that this saying holds true in case of admiration too.

People ask me “Why do you love Dhoni?” “Why are you always going so gaga about him?”
I have my reasons. Some absolutely logical, and some other, equally illogical, dillogical!

But if you ask me, “When did you begin liking Dhoni?”
I will be tongue tied, for I don’t have an answer.

Maybe when he along with his long locks obliterated the Sri Lankan attack, that awestrucking 183*. Maybe when he gave the ball to Uthappa in the India-Pak ball out. Or maybe when he took of his jersey after winning the WC of the shortest format.

Whatever the reason maybe, it ensured that I was enslaved. And enslaved for keeps.

Yes I follow Mahendra Singh Dhoni. I follow him not to strike a note about his stats and records or to call him “lucky.”  I do not follow him to debate about he being the best Indian Captain, for I know that he incontrovertibly is. But I follow him, ‘cause for me he’s a synagaogue of idealness. A perfect cricketer, and more than that, a perfect human being.

Calm, ice-cool, composed. Planning scrupulously, wangling insidiously and striddling the opposition like an edacious beast of prey. Bogusing a brine of phlegm amidst tempestuous storms. An wellspring of sagacity, amidst the gore. The calming dominion in Indian Cricket.

That’s what he is to me.

I wonder what my cardiograph looks like when he’s taking strike. Those who get a chance to watch him with me being in the same room, can figure out three different forms of me in the post-hitting moments 1) a girl admiring and being awed by the alacritous runner between the wickets; 2) a wacko caterwauling “Oh, boy!” at the top of her lungs with both hands up in the air, if the ball crosses the ropes; 3) and, a leaviathan springing, throwing expletives at the air if the ball takes one beautiful flight and kisses the sky.

You might be charmed to see a MJ moonwalk, or a Madhuri Dixit dance straight from  the 90s. I will be beguiled to see a MS Dhoni sideways dive. Or for that matter, even a flash of his pearly whites.
Having talked of MSD’s antics, I am so cajoled and can’t stonewall the fire in belly to talk about Champions Trophy as well.

Putting the dumb in a dumbfounding decision, when it was dreaded that in the battle of common sense vs. ICC, common sense might just retire hurt, fortunately, cricket overshadowed the stupidity.

Yes, Shikhar Dhawan played well, Virat Kohli batted elegantly, Jadeja came a long way, from internet jokes to the golden ball, and Ashwin bowled as if he never really left home; but among all these spine-tingling performances, MS Dhoni’s was heart-stirring like none other’s. How tiring it should be to scrunch balls, keep wickets and simultaneously, make strategies for eleven people? But Mahendra Singh Dhoni, like a warrior, never halts in the battle.