As the Twenty20 carnival continues, Arunabha Sengupta tries to map the finer nuances of Test cricket into the instant version of the game. The result is quite disastrous.
Published: May 04, 2012, 11:33 AM (IST)
Edited: Sep 02, 2014, 02:36 AM (IST)
Test cricket is an allegory of life. A sport like no other where ebb and flow of fate is determined as much by ability as by circumstances while T20 cricket is full of ups and downs of fickle fortune, the turning and re-turning of the tables, miniscule tides in the whirlwind affairs of men against a backdrop of sound and fury © AFP
As the Twenty20 carnival continues, Arunabha Sengupta tries to map the finer nuances of Test cricket into the instant version of the game. The result is quite disastrous.
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The final moments of the umpteenth Twenty 20 match of the Indian Premier League (IPL) planted seeds of a terrifying epiphany.
Don’t ask me the exact details, I can’t help you there. Keeping track of the match number has ceased to be trivial. The George Cantor method of counting the infinite seems to grow indispensible. The players progressively look the same – a precious few set apart by elements of brilliance or farce – the distinguishing features blurring with the pace of the games and disappearing balls.
However, I remember it was the match which Mandeep Singh, Nitin Saini and finally David Hussey had almost won at an amble for Kings XI Punjab against Royal Challengers Bangalore before a Zaheer Khan over full of run outs nearly turned the show on its head. Ultimately, after a few inexplicable dot balls, Piyush Chawla became the hero with a lucky swing of the bat.
I have always maintained that Test cricket is an allegory of life. A sport like no other where ebb and flow of fate is determined as much by ability as by circumstances. Where the pattern of rain and the whisper of wind have their say in the outcome. Where crude elements like sweat and saliva are used to swing the ball and result. Where the unexpected awaits us in the disguised wrong ’un. Where justice can be fair or foul, to be accepted in either guise. Where patience and fortitude crafts the progress of long journeys and a chance to remedy or consolidate is offered as a second innings or another shining ball. Where the unheralded, the night-watchman or part- time trundler can hope to turn into celebrated heroes.
And what was I seeing here in this short action thriller complete with song and dance sideshows? Ups and downs of fickle fortune, the turning and re-turning of the tables, miniscule tides in the whirlwind affairs of men against a backdrop of sound and fury … All the topsy-turvy, and often tipsy, drama curved out with quirky slashes on a three hour slab of time.
If Test cricket is like rolling through life in its entirety, the T20 affair seems to be a moment in which life flashes before one’s eyes.
Need I remind readers about what this means?
The believers in the supernatural equate it with dying or near-death experiences. On the other hand, recent studies of Slovenian scientists claim that this is an effect of excessive carbon dioxide in breath and arteries.
As episode after episode of innumerable instant parodies of cricket and life scramble across grounds, television sets and personal computer screens, one question niggles: Are we nearing the demise of cricket or approaching the death of our love for the game? Or is it an effect of excessive contamination coursing through the veins of the game?
(Arunabha Sengupta is trained from Indian Statistical Institute as a Statistician. He works as a Process Consultant, but purifies the soul through writing and cricket, often mixing the two into a cleansing cocktail. The author of three novels, he currently resides in the incredibly beautiful, but sadly cricket-ignorant, country of Switzerland. You can know more about him from his author site, his cricket blogs and by following him on Twitter)
