By Aravind Ramachandran
http://sports.in.msn.com/cricket/article.aspx?cp-documentid=3137852
I just couldn’t help laughing at the very innocent accusation in the SMS I received some 15 months ago. A hapless Indian team lead by Rahul Dravid had just crashed out of the 2007 World Cup, with Sri Lanka and minnows Bangladesh having gained the upper hand in what was seen as a very laid back group.
We had already found two people to take the blame, for crimes that, as it happened, were committed long ago. One was Indira Gandhi, for the political ploy of carving out the country of Bangladesh. The second was Lord Hanuman, for failing to destroy Lanka completely. It was time for a very pretentious flashback.
As the sun set on that balmy June evening in 1983, the silhouette of Kapil Dev Nikhanj holding the Prudential World Cup on the balcony of Lord’s was, for a brief moment, divided amongst the believers and the non-believers.
Even to the non-believers, it was hardly the fulfillment of the Indian dream, for in spite of all the momentum gained by the giant killers on the road to the finals, overthrowing the reigning champions was always considered a little too much to hope for. To the believers, it was the Calypso kings’ death at the hands of the underdogs.
I am alarmed at how vividly I see it all. But for the countless re-telecasts, I had missed that first time Indian cricket scaled the summit of glory, and for no fault of mine – I was not born until a couple of years later.
The picture of Indian cricket was not so rosy a few years down the line. To one who grew up watching the Indian team exploring different shades of blue for each World cup in search of luck was hardly of use. Another ‘top of the podium finish’ in the one-day format has remained a distant dream.
Images of carnage and plunder on the field were still common fare, but India was very often on the wrong side of things. It didn’t help either that Pakistani skipper Imran Khan was the one who lifted the first World cup in the memory of my generation – the crystal ball of 1992 that was perhaps the most glamorous World cup trophy of all time.
But there were a few bright spots. The curly haired young man who often stood next to Kapil Dev holding a bright red cup and revealing the ‘secret of our energy’ inspired many a boy to put down our books and pick up the cricket bat. After all, we believed we had the ‘boost’ we needed, but as history tells us, few from this part of the country actually made it.
Four years later, a very much unknown Jayasuriya’s plundering of bowling attacks from all over the world caught the attention of us school boys from all over India. Rumours of spring loaded bats and tampered balls were subjects of heated discussions in classrooms even as common logic and applied physics took a back seat to conspiracy theories.
India’s semi-final loss to eventual champions Sri Lanka owing to crowd disturbances made Calcutta the most hated city, as our hearts went out to a sobbing Vinod Kambli who had to be led off the field on that occasion. Sub continent rivalry was never this strong as the World cup was once again so near, yet so far.
To Sreesanth, though, it may have been a matter of life and death, had he fumbled what was perhaps the last chance for India to press the delete button on Pakistan from the pages of Twenty20 history. But the young man had vindicated his aggression.
After all, he must have grown up watching re-telecasts of the 1983 finals barely a quarter of a century ago where another pacer we fondly call Kapil Dev had held on to a wayward shot off a very dangerous Vivian Richards at Lords, as if his life depended on it. But then again, maybe this time, it did.
Finally, when the older generation tries to tell us about Kapil’s devils who could beat the giants and overcome odds to win the World Cup, the young men of India can look them in the eye and remind them about the new breed led by Mahendra Singh Dhoni. Kapil da jawaab nahin tha…Par Ab jawab mila kya?
I’m sure Mr. Kapil Dev is smiling now.
Source: India Syndicate
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