Published: Jun 14, 2014, 03:53 PM (IST)
Edited: Jun 14, 2014, 04:26 PM (IST)
With the kick-off of a new international cricket season, Bejoy Balagopal reflects on how some individuals in the game have an influence that goes far beyond the immediate and on his wait for the next such individual.
As a new season of international cricket starts for the Indian team, this writer continues his search for a new hero. Cricket is unique among team sport in the way it places importance on the individual. As a bowler starts his run-up, it essentially turns into a one-on-one contest between him and the batsman for a few riveting moments. As an Indian cricket fan we have had another reason for this behaviour: we have not been fortunate to have a consistently successful team to cheer for! As a result we had to settle for some solo performers who fired your imagination.
My introduction to cricket in the mid-1980s gave me my first hero in the game — Kapil Dev. Dynamic and destructive, Kapil possessed the ability to do the unthinkable and turn a game on its head. The athleticism, the never-say-die attitude, the commoner’s heart: everything combined to make him a larger- than-life hero for a nine-year old aspiring cricketer. It also injected a bout of confidence in the self, nothing was unattainable and no challenge was daunting.
As Kapil struggled through the final years of his career, I egged him on. Letting go of him was to let go of my childhood. But go he had to, in the least glorious of manner for a person of his stature, a pale shadow of the player he once was. Kapil retired in 1994, the year I turned 18. I could officially let go of childhood. If age provided the signal to the mind, the heart had already found another reason to bid the farewell; in the form of a young genius from Mumbai who had started to dominate the mind space over the previous few years.
Sachin Tendulkar came, I saw, and together we conquered. He represented hope and romanticism, qualities that fuel you through a certain period of your life. He was the boy on the burning deck, head and shoulders above the rest in the team. Many a nights passed in anticipation of watching him bat the next day. With him I got through my final school years, college and entered my first job. the hope and dreams still intact. The world was there to be conquered, alone, if it had to be done so.
Then he ran into injuries and middle age (in sporting parlance), and my hope turned to cynicism; he remained a giant but a workman was increasingly masking the genius. It mirrored how I ploughed through certain years and jobs. The halo was dimming but I did not complain. My hero was still a symbol of what I hoped life would turn out to be!
But now, he is gone, leaving us with a grim reminder that nothing is really permanent.
Of course there were several others whom I admired and not all were Indian — Viv Richards, Imran Khan, Wasim Akram, Mark Waugh — all of them have occupied positions of high esteem but the mind had the space for only one uncontested numero uno. Rahul Dravid came close but he had to play second fiddle, the Shashi Kapoor, if you may, to Sachin Tendulkar’s Amitabh Bachchan.
As I embark on a journey of renewed positivity, I wait for the next hero to emerge. Someone who would ignite the fanboy passion all over again with his on-field exploits, and also provide the impetus to a wider sphere of things outside of the cricketing field. However, could it be that in this day and age, with the in-your -face presence of the players and your own views having the informed tints of grey, such unabashed fandom is just not possible?
(Bejoy Balagopal is an engineer working with a leading technology firm, with a passion for cricket and writing. He brings a layman’s view on the proceedings combined with the ability to look at the larger picture of how sport plays a crucial role in society)
