Cricket has always been one sport that I played with lot of passion. Those days of playing cricket have become memories now. It’s been almost two years since I played the game. I remember most of those moments when we lost a test match by 2 runs, when I went out to play the day after my dog passed away.
That one over:
I had played cricket only with tennis balls and rubber balls thus far. That was the first game I played with a cricket ball. It was full of my relatives. My relatives used to play cricket every weekend then. It was summer vacation after my 10th grade final examinations. I went to the ground and found them playing. I wanted to play with them and jumped on the field. My cousins asked me if I’m joining them and I was happy to play my first game with cricket ball. Let me tell you, all of my relatives who played there were at least 10 years elder. They were all scared. They wanted me to play the game without getting hurt. Our side was fielding first. I was fielding at extra-cover. Mid way into the match there was a smash over extra-cover and I held onto that catch with all the oooohs and aaaahs around (ooohs and aahs out of the fear that I might get hurt). Two overs later I was given a chance to bowl. After 2 wides (the ball was new and it was swinging wild), I bowled well picking two wickets in that over. Both the wickets were bowled in. I dint know what target was set. Our team batted and lost few wickets. I was the last man to get in. I got a chance to bat. Before I could step onto the field, one of my cousins helped me with the leg pads. I helped myself with the gloves. After all the preparation I had to stand at non-striker’s place. That was the last of that over and it was a dot ball. I was happy to play a fresh over.
The first ball I faced, I swung and missed.
The second ball I faced, I wanted to connect and defended it.
The third ball I faced, it was a half-volley outside offstump. I gave myself room and played an inside out shot and it was four.
The fourth ball I faced, it was banged in short. I pulled and it was four again. All others were shouting at the bowler. They were scared that I would get hurt. (None of my close friends would bang in short at me. I’m very good at it)
The fifth ball I faced, I snatched a 2.
The last ball I faced, I was happy to score a single when my cousin at the other end desperately wanted a double (wanted to retain strike). I was wondering why he needed a double desperately when there is no chance of double there.
Only at the end of the over, I learnt that it was the last over I faced and the game was over. I was told only then that we had to score 12 off the last over and we would have won had we taken a double off the last ball. But we managed a tie. They never told me it was the last over and they never asked me to get a single off the first ball I faced, because they wanted me to enjoy the game. I really enjoyed that one over.
Final Year cricket.
We played a lot of cricket in college. All the time we played. It had always been me and my friend Keran opening. We like opening the batting. In that particular match we had to chase 70 odd runs in 12 overs and we had scored 52 in 8 overs. I lost my wicket in the 9th over, soon after which keran lost his wicket in 10th over. We went onto lose that match. But that was the only 50 run partnership we ever made.
Such has been my passion for cricket. Yesterday my mom was cleaning my room and I found a ball that I used to play with. I used to spend the afternoons of my summer vacation bowling in the platform at my home. The tap at the other end had always been the stump. I used to jump with joy whenever the ball had hit the tap (the stump). The tap would vibrate on contact with the ball and that used to make me jump. I just wanted to do the same and I started from this end of the platform. The tap looked so near now (all grown up and strong). I thought I would hit the tap with ease. But to my surprise I found it difficult to roll my arms over (I don’t know if I have put on weight or forgot bowling). With great difficulty I released the ball and witnessed it pitch once, twice, thrice before it rolled over the platform to kiss the tap. It has been two years now since I played. I was very disappointed. Nevertheless I have learnt a lesson. Always be in touch with your passion. It may be your passion. But if you lose touch with it, it may leave you. You never know when it would start disliking you. It’s not only about passion for that matter, any good that you possess. I’ve already lost my passion for poetry. Maybe, I was too young to learn then, but I have learnt the lesson now. Writing is one such passion and I’m sure I’ll be in touch with it. I would like to dedicate this post to all my close friends who are ignoring their passion.