As uni comes to an end, slowly but surely, I will feel the need to lament about teeny tiny things. So I shall update them here.
8.4.11
Now its 27 days to go. Not even 4 weeks.
I just opened IVLE, out of habit, to check for new notes. And it struck me, all my lectures are over. Only presentations/test/tutorials will be done next week. I will never, ever need to open IVLE to check for notes again.
I remember feeling sad about how I did not have to apply for hostel anymore for next sem. Don't get me wrong, I am glad I will (hopefully) move to a bigger room than the current hostel one. But PGP has been my home for 3 of the last 4 years.
Speaking of future homes, I have no idea what I will be doing once exams end. May - July. A blank. Where I will be living, with whom, where I will be working, I have no idea. I don't like uncertainties.
11.4.11
9am
Last week of undergrad teaching. It's gonna start with a Big Bang. Literally. My Einstein module ends today.
8pm
Last 7-10pm lecture ever. At least till I ever do a Masters or something.
12.4.11
After my (ungraded) presentation today, I will need 2 more bursts of energy to get through the sem. And uni. 2 papers and an exam on 22-23. And 2 exams on 3-4 May. And lo and behold it shall be gone.
The end is near
The end is near
It has been a blast
But now we must say goodbye
Not because we want to
But because we have to
It may not be forever
We will meet again
If it was meant to be
Now is the time
When we look back at the good times
And leave each other with open hearts
We have been through
The bad times as well
But we won't look back in regret
But learn from it
And become wiser
And when we move on
We will remember
How much love and care
We felt for each other
Remember that
I am always here for you
I will never forget
Our time together
It will always be close in my heart
by Kylie
13.4.2011
Last lecture. check.
Last test. Check.
Last presentation. Check.
Still to go - last tutorial, last paper, last exam.
3 weeks, 2 papers, 3 exams.
15.4.11
Last tutorial. Check.
So basically, I'm done with classes. And if my Palmistry is anything to go by, I'm done with classes for a long time.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Anna Hazare
I see my whole Facebook feed filled with Hazare causes, questions, links. I get it, ok. Finally, there is someone who is doing something about corruption, taking a stand. And we, who want India to get better but don't know how, finally see an opportunity to get involved, even if it is via Facebook and Twitter. Somebody who follows Gandhian principles? Well what could possibly go wrong with that.
But I am not one of those who has been gung-ho about this whole thing. For one thing, I have never been interested in politics. The eternal pessimist in me sees no hope for a corruption free India till someone like Lee Kuan Yew takes over (bringing his own set of problems nonetheless).
But I did read up on what's been happening, what the whole hulabaloo is about. And this anti-corruption committee that is suggested, do you think they will emerge from some hitherto unknown uncorrupt part of India? With all these immense powers which the government has agreed to in response to Hazare's Jantar Mantar fast, what if the ombudsman turns out to be corrupt? What then?
Hazare is not going to be around forever. How does he ensure that this framework will actually work? I know he has done awesome work in many, many villages in Maharashtra. But just as it is way simpler to micro-manage Singapore, so it is in a village.
I do not want to take anything away from the amazing award-winning work that Hazare has done. But the pessimist in me sees a very long way to go.
The optimist in me hopes.
But I am not one of those who has been gung-ho about this whole thing. For one thing, I have never been interested in politics. The eternal pessimist in me sees no hope for a corruption free India till someone like Lee Kuan Yew takes over (bringing his own set of problems nonetheless).
But I did read up on what's been happening, what the whole hulabaloo is about. And this anti-corruption committee that is suggested, do you think they will emerge from some hitherto unknown uncorrupt part of India? With all these immense powers which the government has agreed to in response to Hazare's Jantar Mantar fast, what if the ombudsman turns out to be corrupt? What then?
Hazare is not going to be around forever. How does he ensure that this framework will actually work? I know he has done awesome work in many, many villages in Maharashtra. But just as it is way simpler to micro-manage Singapore, so it is in a village.
I do not want to take anything away from the amazing award-winning work that Hazare has done. But the pessimist in me sees a very long way to go.
The optimist in me hopes.
Friday, April 8, 2011
WOW!
Whattay article!
In a republic with a short history and a thin national narrative, cricket and Bollywood are India's baseball and apple pie. Rahul makes air quotes and says, "Indian culture."
I'm dreading the usual chaos of an Indian airport.
But once inside, I am transported. Is this the future? The place is new and serene. The floors are shiny. A fancy coffee kiosk teems with under-caffeinated commuters. The food court has a Subway, a Baskin-Robbins, a McDonald's, a Yo!China. There's a bookstore. A bronze elephant towers in the lobby.
That's when I see it.
There's a restaurant named Dilli Streat. It's a take on Delhi's famous street-food scene. It has slightly dressed-up versions of blue-collar classics. The concept is an ironic mixture of old and new, with a winking nod to a past seen as quaint yet valuable. Cynicism and irony, on back-to-back days.
India is changing at lightning speed.
I think of Jane Leavy's magnificent book about Mickey Mantle, and her documenting the moment when Americans began viewing our idols differently. India, it seems, is approaching that day. Another question about Tendulkar arises: Is he the final star athlete created by that deeply earnest society, the one with its suspension of disbelief fully intact?
Is he the last hero?
The thirst of a tabloid reporter and the love of a starstruck child are fruit from the same tree. Maybe the difference is intent, and maybe it's innocence, which sounds like the pitter-patter of tiny feet on marble floors. Kids chase their favorite cricketers around the hotel. Their joy restores faith, washes away cynicism. Maybe the soul of cricket can survive this landslide of change.
They seem so confident, not people who need any outside validation. Maybe Sachin isn't needed any longer. Maybe Sehwag is more representative. That hasn't occurred to me until now. Later I'll talk to an Indian journalist, Vaibhav Vats, who is writing about cricket as a window into national self-esteem. He thinks Sachin isn't as important as he used to be.
"It's about wealth," Vats says. "So you don't look for external things to shore up your own sense of identity. There isn't the identity crisis there was then."
Other kids take blue paint and, emulating a famous billboard around the country, tag themselves "Bleed Blue". Sports marketing creating fan behaviour creating more sports marketing: a snake eating its tail.
Andy saw a game in this stadium on television once, India versus Pakistan, and the cacophony when an Indian player bowled his opponent seemed to come out of his television and transport his London home across two oceans and several lesser seas. That noise is something he cannot forget. He's chasing that ghost, left a wife and two kids at home for six weeks to chase it halfway around the world.
Sunil begat Sachin begat Sehwag. From insecurity to confidence to aggression.
A feeling arises, a rare one, that you are part of a group watching something special. The power of sport is that, on occasion, it redeems the messes we create around it. Cricket can be stronger than the forces changing it. Victories are fleeting, but the poems are what matters. I don't know if cricket is about to be ruined, or if Sachin is no longer needed, if he's retiring or if he'll defy expectations and play 10 more years. These are things we can guess about but never know.
I do know this: I am a fan. I am sunburned but do not care. I lose track of time. That's not a narrative flourish. Hours seem like moments.
Rapture comes to the people here. I see Sachin constructing a score, and I understand the planning, and the years of experience, that lead a man to this field on this day, and to the artistry he now holds as part of himself, like a chamber of his heart. We are congregants in a church. We are watching the son of a poet. The stand-up comedian is serious. This is a perfect at-bat, Andy tells me. This is art, and I am lucky to see it. Soon, Sachin will be gone. This feeling will be gone. Right now, it is alive. It has the power of a name, immortal and pure.
Two pitches, two sixes. The air is sucked out of the stadium, and Bon Jovi is played again. But now, incredibly, the crowd noise is louder than the sound system. The real finally trumps the fake.
He's done it. A century. I've never been in a stadium that feels like this one. Hindus and Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, people from different castes and classes, speakers of a dozen languages, all citizens in the Republic of Sachin. The stern cops give wide smiles and thumbs-ups. The chant goes from "Sachin! Sachin!" to "Hoo… ha… IN-DI-A!" They are interchangeable.
The team is a proxy for the nation, so what does an Indian collapse tell them about India? About India without Sachin?
Now 59 from 48. Then India gets a wicket. Then a second in a row. The crowd comes alive. What does this revival tell them about their nation? About themselves?
Sachin Tendulkar says goodbye and closes his door, while, in every direction, a vast nation sees its hopes and dreams in him, for at least a little while longer. I step into the elevator, then a car, then three flights, then my car, then my house. I return from blind alleys and brightly lit fields, having found my moment of rapture and, at the end, the man who created it. I've found both the riddle and the answer, and I wonder what it must cost someone to be both of those things. One part of my conversation with Tendulkar will return to me every time India plays in this World Cup.
His agent told me he's aware of what he means to people, of the symbolic importance of being both the beginning and end of something. He is a bridge, and it is vital to the psyche of a nation that he remains intact. He gets it. That's why he never loses focus. Nothing, it turns out, is effortless. In his room, he seems tired, worn out mentally and physically. He needs a break. I ask when was the last time he had 20 days off in a row with nothing to do. No balls to hit or billions to represent.
"I'm waiting for that time to come," he says.
In a republic with a short history and a thin national narrative, cricket and Bollywood are India's baseball and apple pie. Rahul makes air quotes and says, "Indian culture."
I'm dreading the usual chaos of an Indian airport.
But once inside, I am transported. Is this the future? The place is new and serene. The floors are shiny. A fancy coffee kiosk teems with under-caffeinated commuters. The food court has a Subway, a Baskin-Robbins, a McDonald's, a Yo!China. There's a bookstore. A bronze elephant towers in the lobby.
That's when I see it.
There's a restaurant named Dilli Streat. It's a take on Delhi's famous street-food scene. It has slightly dressed-up versions of blue-collar classics. The concept is an ironic mixture of old and new, with a winking nod to a past seen as quaint yet valuable. Cynicism and irony, on back-to-back days.
India is changing at lightning speed.
I think of Jane Leavy's magnificent book about Mickey Mantle, and her documenting the moment when Americans began viewing our idols differently. India, it seems, is approaching that day. Another question about Tendulkar arises: Is he the final star athlete created by that deeply earnest society, the one with its suspension of disbelief fully intact?
Is he the last hero?
The thirst of a tabloid reporter and the love of a starstruck child are fruit from the same tree. Maybe the difference is intent, and maybe it's innocence, which sounds like the pitter-patter of tiny feet on marble floors. Kids chase their favorite cricketers around the hotel. Their joy restores faith, washes away cynicism. Maybe the soul of cricket can survive this landslide of change.
They seem so confident, not people who need any outside validation. Maybe Sachin isn't needed any longer. Maybe Sehwag is more representative. That hasn't occurred to me until now. Later I'll talk to an Indian journalist, Vaibhav Vats, who is writing about cricket as a window into national self-esteem. He thinks Sachin isn't as important as he used to be.
"It's about wealth," Vats says. "So you don't look for external things to shore up your own sense of identity. There isn't the identity crisis there was then."
Other kids take blue paint and, emulating a famous billboard around the country, tag themselves "Bleed Blue". Sports marketing creating fan behaviour creating more sports marketing: a snake eating its tail.
Andy saw a game in this stadium on television once, India versus Pakistan, and the cacophony when an Indian player bowled his opponent seemed to come out of his television and transport his London home across two oceans and several lesser seas. That noise is something he cannot forget. He's chasing that ghost, left a wife and two kids at home for six weeks to chase it halfway around the world.
Sunil begat Sachin begat Sehwag. From insecurity to confidence to aggression.
A feeling arises, a rare one, that you are part of a group watching something special. The power of sport is that, on occasion, it redeems the messes we create around it. Cricket can be stronger than the forces changing it. Victories are fleeting, but the poems are what matters. I don't know if cricket is about to be ruined, or if Sachin is no longer needed, if he's retiring or if he'll defy expectations and play 10 more years. These are things we can guess about but never know.
I do know this: I am a fan. I am sunburned but do not care. I lose track of time. That's not a narrative flourish. Hours seem like moments.
Rapture comes to the people here. I see Sachin constructing a score, and I understand the planning, and the years of experience, that lead a man to this field on this day, and to the artistry he now holds as part of himself, like a chamber of his heart. We are congregants in a church. We are watching the son of a poet. The stand-up comedian is serious. This is a perfect at-bat, Andy tells me. This is art, and I am lucky to see it. Soon, Sachin will be gone. This feeling will be gone. Right now, it is alive. It has the power of a name, immortal and pure.
Two pitches, two sixes. The air is sucked out of the stadium, and Bon Jovi is played again. But now, incredibly, the crowd noise is louder than the sound system. The real finally trumps the fake.
He's done it. A century. I've never been in a stadium that feels like this one. Hindus and Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, people from different castes and classes, speakers of a dozen languages, all citizens in the Republic of Sachin. The stern cops give wide smiles and thumbs-ups. The chant goes from "Sachin! Sachin!" to "Hoo… ha… IN-DI-A!" They are interchangeable.
The team is a proxy for the nation, so what does an Indian collapse tell them about India? About India without Sachin?
Now 59 from 48. Then India gets a wicket. Then a second in a row. The crowd comes alive. What does this revival tell them about their nation? About themselves?
Sachin Tendulkar says goodbye and closes his door, while, in every direction, a vast nation sees its hopes and dreams in him, for at least a little while longer. I step into the elevator, then a car, then three flights, then my car, then my house. I return from blind alleys and brightly lit fields, having found my moment of rapture and, at the end, the man who created it. I've found both the riddle and the answer, and I wonder what it must cost someone to be both of those things. One part of my conversation with Tendulkar will return to me every time India plays in this World Cup.
His agent told me he's aware of what he means to people, of the symbolic importance of being both the beginning and end of something. He is a bridge, and it is vital to the psyche of a nation that he remains intact. He gets it. That's why he never loses focus. Nothing, it turns out, is effortless. In his room, he seems tired, worn out mentally and physically. He needs a break. I ask when was the last time he had 20 days off in a row with nothing to do. No balls to hit or billions to represent.
"I'm waiting for that time to come," he says.
Monday, April 4, 2011
1 month
Exactly one month remains before I'm done with uni.
3 papers, 1 test, 1 presentation, 3 exams.
My head feels like its gonna split open. It's been hurting like this since last Tuesday I think.
I genuinely believe FYP caused me brain damage. Not to mention left me sick. WTF
3 papers, 1 test, 1 presentation, 3 exams.
My head feels like its gonna split open. It's been hurting like this since last Tuesday I think.
I genuinely believe FYP caused me brain damage. Not to mention left me sick. WTF
Sunday, April 3, 2011
We won!
3rd April, 2021. It's been 10 years. Exactly 10 years since I woke up with a wide smile, remembering the events of the previous night (don't be perverted la). When India's cricket World Cup winning streak began.
I was in university. I had finished my FYP the day after India defeated Pakistan in what many claimed was the final before the final. I had been looking forward to watching the real final in peace. And then my body decided to tell me, screw you for mistreating me in the last week, I'm gonna fall sick now.
So, barely able to go downstairs to even get myself lunch, I lay in bed till 5pm, which is when the match began. I was torn, should I risk getting worse by watching the match with everyone in Red Dot, or should I stay in bed and stream on my laptop. After the first wicket fell, and the links stopped streaming, I decided, forget it, I will have time to fall sick tomorrow, a WC win, I may not get to see again.
And the right decision it was.
What amazing inroads the Indian bowlers made into the Sri Lankan batting. They didn't give away too many runs, they took regular wickets. It looked all hunky-dory till the last 5 overs. It was 211/5 in 45 overs. A very chase-able total. It would end at 274/6 in 50. Not so easily chased.
Perhaps nothing told the story better than Zaheer's figures: 5-3-6-1 to 8-3-25-2 to end up at a ghastly 10-3-60-2. And I guess it says a lot when someone who is in the team in the role of a bowler is not even given his full quota of 10 overs (Sreesanth 8-0-52-0), while someone whom we still hesitate to dub as an all rounder is (Yuvraj 10-0-49-2).
When Sachin and Sehwag walked out to the centre to begin the chase, we all knew we needed one of them to fire to be able to chase this total down. Maybe a quick start from Sehwag, and then a grounded solid innings from Sachin should put them in good stead. Then 2nd ball from Malinga, plumb LBW. In true fashion, Sehwag went for the review. God only knows why, since if it had hit the bat, he of all people would have known. And it was given out. That is one thing that Sehwag can learn from Sachin. Even against Pakistan, the moment Sehwag was adjudged out, he asked for the review before even checking with his batting partner Sachin. It shows a disbelief and immaturity and a wondering out aloud, "how can I possibly be out!". It wastes a review, which in the later part of the match could change the game. Sachin, on the other hand, consulted long and hard with his partner before going for the review, and for him the decision was indeed overturned during the Pak match.
But anyway, with Sachin and Sehwag both gone within the first 7 overs, I think it was more a psychological defeat more than anything else for the whole of India. Who would get us out of this mess? Who would score enough so that we would surmount that increasingly unassailable looking target? The answer was partnerships. We often forget, in the shadow of brilliant cricketers, why the India batting line-up is so feared. Why any bastman, upto No. 7, is capable of single-handedly winning a match for us.
Gambhir and Kohli together gave the innings stability, and the more important thing they did in my opinion was to not let the asking rate creep up too high. It always stayed around 6, and we knew that if we did not lose wickets, we would eventually get there. There was hope yet.
As 21 year old Kohli departed to a blinder of a catch and bowled from Dilshan, Dhoni decided to promote himself up the order. As he himself mentioned later, "if we had not won today, there would have been many questions asked. Why Sreesanth, why not Ashwin. Why me, why not in-form Yuvraj at No. 4". Well, he proved all his critics (including me) wrong, and showed that he was not only a wicketkeeper-captain, but a batsman too. "On the big final's night, out came the calculative Dhoni, the perfect mix of caution and aggression, strong as an ox, fast as a hare, the same batsman that not long ago was quite deservingly the No. 1 in ODIs."
Sri Lankan fielders seemed to be everywhere. Every ball was hit like a boundary. Almost all were cut off. But the bastmen toiled. And we cheered. The crowd, Dhoni later said, gave the batsmen strength. "During the Gambhir-Kohli partnership, ever run was applauded as if it was a boundary."
And that 6 was such an amazing way to end it all. He stared at the ball till it cleared the ropes, while Yuvraj on the other end bellowed like a Singh. What a turn-around Yuvi has had in this WC! Man of the Tournament! Even he wouldn't have believed that was possible before the WC started.
In this match, they all batted like champions. They did not let the pressure get to them. There was no mad scramble to get runs, just patiently rotating the strike, with the occasional boundary to keep the run rate in check.
It was Team India's strategy to breeze through the Group stages and peak at the right time during the knockout games. And boy did it work. Both the QF and SF were dubbed as 2 finals before the final. To actually kick the long time winners of the WC out in the QF stage itself was monumental, though it was overshadowed by a Ind-Pak SF. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is bigger than an Ind-Pak SF, except maybe an Ind-Pak Final. But that was not to be.
Dhoni had said after the Pakistan match that he had never seen India field so well, and never expected them to put up any better performance. Well they brought their "A Game", as they say, for the grand finale. "No matter how clumsy or unpolished their techniques, the oldest and creakiest of the Indians were diving to stop boundaries."
Perhaps the biggest lesson to be learnt from both Sachin's and Murali's relatively lackluster performances was that neither team depends solely on their "greats" to do the job for them. Neither needs a hero to save the day. What they really need is the whole team's effort.
Kohli said about Sachin "He has carried the burden of the nation for 21 years (as long as Kohli has been alive), its high time we carried him". But let us spare a thought for Murali. If Sachin is one of the best batsman ever, Murali is surely one of the best bowlers ever. He did not go out in style today. But he will forever be returned as one of the cricketing greats.
This WC, it's for Sachin. It's for Kapil Dev. It's for the unsung heroes - the support staff. It's for Team India. And it's for all the fans, in India, outside India.
We won.
Quotes:
"It was the first time in six weeks that MS Dhoni could be heard doing what can only be described as giggling."
"When Dhoni was asked how Yuvraj had been in the dressing room during the tournament, he replied with a smile: "He has been vomiting a lot," and then went on to answer the question."
"He spoke lucidly of what was going through his mind after he hit the winning runs. "Emotionally, I was confused; I wanted a wicket [stump]". But he found himself at the centre of the pitch with Yuvraj at the other end. "I thought hug-vug we will do later, first take the wicket." He then ran over to his own end to pull out the stump, after which Yuvraj jumped on him, pulling him into a bear hug. "It was an emotional moment," Dhoni said. "I was confused, I didn't know what to do at the time, how to show my emotions."
Some of the players had been struggling to sleep properly, but Upton believed - as it now seems - in something preordained. "Strangely I slept quite comfortably, because the job was done, we just needed to go and act out the script that was already written."
The nerves he felt towards the closing moments, despite himself being a mental conditioning coach, he said was a feeling like no other. "I get bloody nervous. Believe you me. It was magnificent."
Trivia:
1. India became the first host nation to win the tournament
2. Jayawardene became the first player to score a hundred in the final and finish on the losing side.
3. This was the highest run-chase ever achieved in a World Cup final.
I was in university. I had finished my FYP the day after India defeated Pakistan in what many claimed was the final before the final. I had been looking forward to watching the real final in peace. And then my body decided to tell me, screw you for mistreating me in the last week, I'm gonna fall sick now.
So, barely able to go downstairs to even get myself lunch, I lay in bed till 5pm, which is when the match began. I was torn, should I risk getting worse by watching the match with everyone in Red Dot, or should I stay in bed and stream on my laptop. After the first wicket fell, and the links stopped streaming, I decided, forget it, I will have time to fall sick tomorrow, a WC win, I may not get to see again.
And the right decision it was.
What amazing inroads the Indian bowlers made into the Sri Lankan batting. They didn't give away too many runs, they took regular wickets. It looked all hunky-dory till the last 5 overs. It was 211/5 in 45 overs. A very chase-able total. It would end at 274/6 in 50. Not so easily chased.
Perhaps nothing told the story better than Zaheer's figures: 5-3-6-1 to 8-3-25-2 to end up at a ghastly 10-3-60-2. And I guess it says a lot when someone who is in the team in the role of a bowler is not even given his full quota of 10 overs (Sreesanth 8-0-52-0), while someone whom we still hesitate to dub as an all rounder is (Yuvraj 10-0-49-2).
When Sachin and Sehwag walked out to the centre to begin the chase, we all knew we needed one of them to fire to be able to chase this total down. Maybe a quick start from Sehwag, and then a grounded solid innings from Sachin should put them in good stead. Then 2nd ball from Malinga, plumb LBW. In true fashion, Sehwag went for the review. God only knows why, since if it had hit the bat, he of all people would have known. And it was given out. That is one thing that Sehwag can learn from Sachin. Even against Pakistan, the moment Sehwag was adjudged out, he asked for the review before even checking with his batting partner Sachin. It shows a disbelief and immaturity and a wondering out aloud, "how can I possibly be out!". It wastes a review, which in the later part of the match could change the game. Sachin, on the other hand, consulted long and hard with his partner before going for the review, and for him the decision was indeed overturned during the Pak match.
But anyway, with Sachin and Sehwag both gone within the first 7 overs, I think it was more a psychological defeat more than anything else for the whole of India. Who would get us out of this mess? Who would score enough so that we would surmount that increasingly unassailable looking target? The answer was partnerships. We often forget, in the shadow of brilliant cricketers, why the India batting line-up is so feared. Why any bastman, upto No. 7, is capable of single-handedly winning a match for us.
Gambhir and Kohli together gave the innings stability, and the more important thing they did in my opinion was to not let the asking rate creep up too high. It always stayed around 6, and we knew that if we did not lose wickets, we would eventually get there. There was hope yet.
As 21 year old Kohli departed to a blinder of a catch and bowled from Dilshan, Dhoni decided to promote himself up the order. As he himself mentioned later, "if we had not won today, there would have been many questions asked. Why Sreesanth, why not Ashwin. Why me, why not in-form Yuvraj at No. 4". Well, he proved all his critics (including me) wrong, and showed that he was not only a wicketkeeper-captain, but a batsman too. "On the big final's night, out came the calculative Dhoni, the perfect mix of caution and aggression, strong as an ox, fast as a hare, the same batsman that not long ago was quite deservingly the No. 1 in ODIs."
Sri Lankan fielders seemed to be everywhere. Every ball was hit like a boundary. Almost all were cut off. But the bastmen toiled. And we cheered. The crowd, Dhoni later said, gave the batsmen strength. "During the Gambhir-Kohli partnership, ever run was applauded as if it was a boundary."
And that 6 was such an amazing way to end it all. He stared at the ball till it cleared the ropes, while Yuvraj on the other end bellowed like a Singh. What a turn-around Yuvi has had in this WC! Man of the Tournament! Even he wouldn't have believed that was possible before the WC started.
In this match, they all batted like champions. They did not let the pressure get to them. There was no mad scramble to get runs, just patiently rotating the strike, with the occasional boundary to keep the run rate in check.
It was Team India's strategy to breeze through the Group stages and peak at the right time during the knockout games. And boy did it work. Both the QF and SF were dubbed as 2 finals before the final. To actually kick the long time winners of the WC out in the QF stage itself was monumental, though it was overshadowed by a Ind-Pak SF. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is bigger than an Ind-Pak SF, except maybe an Ind-Pak Final. But that was not to be.
Dhoni had said after the Pakistan match that he had never seen India field so well, and never expected them to put up any better performance. Well they brought their "A Game", as they say, for the grand finale. "No matter how clumsy or unpolished their techniques, the oldest and creakiest of the Indians were diving to stop boundaries."
Perhaps the biggest lesson to be learnt from both Sachin's and Murali's relatively lackluster performances was that neither team depends solely on their "greats" to do the job for them. Neither needs a hero to save the day. What they really need is the whole team's effort.
Kohli said about Sachin "He has carried the burden of the nation for 21 years (as long as Kohli has been alive), its high time we carried him". But let us spare a thought for Murali. If Sachin is one of the best batsman ever, Murali is surely one of the best bowlers ever. He did not go out in style today. But he will forever be returned as one of the cricketing greats.
This WC, it's for Sachin. It's for Kapil Dev. It's for the unsung heroes - the support staff. It's for Team India. And it's for all the fans, in India, outside India.
We won.
Quotes:
"It was the first time in six weeks that MS Dhoni could be heard doing what can only be described as giggling."
"When Dhoni was asked how Yuvraj had been in the dressing room during the tournament, he replied with a smile: "He has been vomiting a lot," and then went on to answer the question."
"He spoke lucidly of what was going through his mind after he hit the winning runs. "Emotionally, I was confused; I wanted a wicket [stump]". But he found himself at the centre of the pitch with Yuvraj at the other end. "I thought hug-vug we will do later, first take the wicket." He then ran over to his own end to pull out the stump, after which Yuvraj jumped on him, pulling him into a bear hug. "It was an emotional moment," Dhoni said. "I was confused, I didn't know what to do at the time, how to show my emotions."
Some of the players had been struggling to sleep properly, but Upton believed - as it now seems - in something preordained. "Strangely I slept quite comfortably, because the job was done, we just needed to go and act out the script that was already written."
The nerves he felt towards the closing moments, despite himself being a mental conditioning coach, he said was a feeling like no other. "I get bloody nervous. Believe you me. It was magnificent."
Trivia:
1. India became the first host nation to win the tournament
2. Jayawardene became the first player to score a hundred in the final and finish on the losing side.
3. This was the highest run-chase ever achieved in a World Cup final.
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