It was early December 2018. Poonam and I were discussing
about the monotony in our lives and how we needed a dramatic pact like the one
in ZNMD bull-fighting scene do egg us on to do something different. Since Spain
is not on top of either of our holiday lists, we decided to base it on
something else (the fact that both of us lack the courage to even go near a
bull also contributed, but let’s not get into the specifics please). We decided
that I will write a blog again, and Poonam will compose another song if India were
to win the test series against Australia. We joked that I could blog about his
song, and he could compose a song on my blog, but that would have posed a Catch
22 situation which had the potential to make Joseph Heller turn in his graves. So
I decided to base my blog on its catalyst – India’s series victory.
“India have won a test series in Australia.” The words are special.
Ask any cricket fan that. Ask anyone of my generation who’ve put in many an alarms
for early mornings hoping for magic, only to be disappointed each time - until
now.
The 1991-92 tour or the 0-4 scoreline invoke no memories within
me. But recordings of that Sachin hundred (and the awe expressed by the
commentators) in Perth are nothing short of pornography.
In 1999-2000, after desert storm and Warnie’s nighmares,
Sachin was made captain. As a romantic falling in love with cricket every day,
I knew we had a chance. I was wrong. We came back 0-3 with Agarkar’s five ducks
and a scoreboard which read Sachin lbw McGrath to a ball which hit his
shoulders.
2003-2004 saw Dada at the helm. I had my class XII exams in
a few months and studies gave me the perfect pretext to wake up early. There
were talks of ‘chin music’, but Dada was not one to take a backward step. A
century by him in the drawn test at the Gabba spurned India to go one-up in
Adelaide - thanks to a Dravid masterclass. The imagery of Dravid kissing his
India cap after hitting the winning runs off McGill is something which I uphold
whenever I have doubts about the world, and all seems well again. After being 278-1 for in Melbourne I was convinced
that this would be the series. I was wrong. We had to come back content with 1-1.
2007-2008 saw Jumbo take the reins and me in the final year
of college. With a good depth in bowling and batting, I thought this was going
to be it. I was wrong. Steve Bucknor had other plans. Another Sachin century at
Sydney, but another series defeat. The vengeance at Perth after all ugly talks
did taste sweet though. 1-2 is how it ended.
2011-12 came. World Champions India were touring an Aussie
side caught in transition. Sachin’s 100th
ton was in sight. Surely a fairy tale ending to his career was being scripted.
I was wrong. We came back 0-4.
2014-15 saw Dhoni retire mid-series to give the mantle to
Virat who had already shown the world what he was capable of. The new India
(who had refused to try and chase 87 runs in 15 overs in the West Indies a few
months ago) were attempting to chase 360+ at about 4 an over in Adelaide. Virat
had scored his second century of the test, and I was supposed to take my bestie
and his charming new bride to Cherrapunjee. I ditched them, knowing that
history beckoned. I was wrong. India lost the test, and the next, and we came
back 0-2.
2018-19 arrived. I knew we had a chance against a depleted
Aussie side. The Indian team had been checking the correct boxes. It was all déjà
vu, and maybe I had moved on from cricket - life had happened. What if Pakistan was to finally win in
a World Cup match against India and the Mauka guy no longer wanted to burst the
crackers as his priorities had changed! I thought I would remain somewhat indifferent
to the result.
I was wrong. Again.
The morning alarms were out again. Opened Cricinfo app
became a regular feature in my office desk. I never missed the highlights
session in the evenings. The proverbial crackers were well and truly burst.
One infograhic that
will stick is how the ‘Indian Pace Troika’ comprising of Bumrah, Ishant and
Shami broke the record for highest number of wickets in a calendar year. It
does not matter that they broke the record held by Holding, Marshal and Garner;
what matters is the words ‘Indian Pace Troika’. Say the words slowly, and let them
sink in – Indian... Pace... Troika... Having been a keen student of the game
for the good part of the past two and a half decades, I’ve seen Indian batsmen
dictate terms and intimidate bowlers; I’ve seen Indian spinners spin a web
around the opposition; heck - I’ve even
seen Agarkar score a century in Lords. I’ve been witness to some great spells
of fast bowling – Srinath at Nagpur, Pathan at Karachi, Sreesanth at Jo’burg,
Ishant at Perth, but never did I think that I would live to see a day when the
words ‘Indian Pace Troika’ would be said in unison, in one sentence, in one
breath.
Shaw injured? No problem. Ashwin injured? We had Sir and
Kuldeep. Openers in bad form? Dude, we still got Mayank. First choice keeper
not fit? Let’s see if Pant gets time out from babysitting. Pujara and Kohli
batted, like they had to - it was almost as it in their contracts. Catches
stuck. All the pieces fell into place. India won the series. 2-1 – a scoreline
the Aussies will probably confess themselves lucky to have come out of.
Virat confessed yesterday that the 2011 World Cup Victory
had not meant as much to him at that time because he did not know what failure
was like, and how two series defeats in Australia added more context to his current feelings.
As a viewer too, the many defeats in the past and the coatings of anticipation
sure make this special.
As we celebrate and cherish India’s upmanship Down Under, I’ll
end with the magical and soothing words – Indian Pace Troika.
