My first love, among games, is hockey. Not cricket. In my days in '50s in Kodagu, hockey was the king of games. Cricket came next in schools. Not at villages. I remember some of my classmates going to Bangalore for a week's stay to see test cricket match.
The game with a ball and stick ends in one hour but a game with a ball and bat takes a week or more. While in hockey all the players play at once, here in cricket half of them laze on the sidelines or on the stadium benches waiting for their turn to bat. Even fielders, who are supposed to be agile and vigilant, are often seen to lapse into a reverie if no ball comes their way for more than half – an - hour, which is not a rare happening. Which is why some miss sure - catches and gift boundaries.
While in Bangalore during early '60s, my interest in cricket was because of some West Indian players coming to my neighbourhood house, where english speaking girls lived, on their nocturnal visits rather stealthily. I was a paying guest in a house named “Bethany” at Richmond town and the tongues would begin to wag scandalously, specially among women. I remember being woken up one night by my fellow - paying guest (an African) to be a peeping tom by spying on our neighbour's house where two cricket players, one white and one black, had sought joy. We were two voyeurs!
And then there was a vehicle pulling up in front of the house under a dim street light. The night's silence on the streets was suddenly rent and there was a flurry of activity with some phantom - like people moving into the house through the unlocked gate while a couple of men jumping over the low compound wall on the rear and disappearing into the darkness. Did you get me Steve?
After a few years, my cricketing interest shifted to Mumbai (then Bombay) and Poona (now Pune). Sunil Gavaskar was the emperor or call him the super - star of cricket. Similar to Rajesh Khanna, the first super - star of Hindi film - world at that time. The term Bollywood had not yet been invented.
In Pune I had an art director in my Ad firm; one Moghe, who was crazy about cricket and, of course, Gavaskar. I could perceive a sense of parochialism in his overwhelming love for Gavaskar, the "Little Master." He must have shifted his such sentiments to Sachin Tendulkar over the years when this "Master - Blaster" happened to India. I remember Moghe rattling off statistics about Gavaskar and proudly showing us, the colleagues, a just published book on Gavaskar. His love for his favourite player and obsession with cricket was such that it bordered religious fanaticism. No one amongst us would dare criticise his cricket idols without being drawn into a war of words. And then one day while feeding him to a plate of Poona's popular delicacy “Sabudana Vada” I asked him if he had played for his college, University or Ranji in his days. The answer stunned me. “No”, he said and added “do I have to be an actor any time to enjoy a film?”
Indeed, in India, cricket is a religion and the players are the idols in the Indian cricket world like the Gods in the pantheon of Hindu religion. Pray, no terrorists be born from this religion, of whatever kind.
To revert to my visit to a cricket match, I must report that on Friday, 6th of this month, the Match No. 47 of IPL between Royal Challengers Bangalore (owned by Vijay Mallya of Bangalore, our own Karnataka brother) and Kings XI Punjab was being played at Bangalore's M. Chinnaswamy Stadium. Sudhir Hasija, Managing Director of Karbonn Mobiles, a sponsor, offered to take me to the match to be viewed from the “box” so to say, the highest class that was found in cinema theatres in the past to facilitate the rich and the powerful. Price on the ticket was Rs. 55,000 and the legend in small print said: Entry Fee Rs. 50,000, plus Entertainment Tax Rs. 5,000.
As it was offered to me, my first reaction was: "Well, Sudhir, how would you like if I sold it for less and walked away smiling?"
"You will be the loser," he said, "You may get some money, but lose the thrill, excitement and the fun that money cannot bring."
Remembering my love for whisky, he whispered into my ears, "… and the best of whisky will be flowing, fabulous spread of short - eats and food in the midst of beautiful, lovely people. You want to miss it?" Soon we were inside the stadium.
The match had begun at 8 pm sharp and we were there at around 8. 30 pm. I had been to the cricket stadium with friends many times to have a drink in the club attached to it or to meet friends when there was no match. This was for the first time ever in my life that I was entering a cricket stadium to watch a live match, that too an IPL, known more for its entertainment value and less for its sporting concerns. Wow! The circular stadium with spectators filled like sardines, cheering and waving flags provided by the organisers, with scantily - clad cheergirls all looking like Barbie dolls come-alive, jumping like crazy to the trumpets and music whenever there was a four or six, was to be seen alive to get the thrill, not on your TV. Once is, I think, good enough, unless you have the time, money and patience. After about half – an - hour, for some, the thrill of the game wears out and the pull of the bar would be irresistible. So you stroll into the sprawling lounge and do your thing. Happy hours.
The game was over sooner than one thought as Chris Gayle of RCB went on a rampage scoring sixes and fours. The Karbonn boss suggested that I hand over the cheque to the winner of the “Karbonn Kamaal Katch” to Asad Pathan and so I was there at the presentation platform with Vijay Mallya, his son Siddarth and another sponsor from a quasi - government department.
While Mallya and I exchanged a smile as a courtesy, I thought I would talk to the young stallion from Vijay Mallya's stable, Siddarth. Turning to him I said, "Well, you seem to have mastered the art of speaking into the microphone." He smiled and muttered, "Yeah, I am trying."
As I walked back to the pavilion, I felt proud of Vijay Mallya for doing Karnataka proud as a Kannadiga in the fields of industry, sports and entertainment. Another one, undoubtedly, is N. R. Narayana Murthy of Infosys, an “Appata” Kannadiga. Do I sound parochial and chauvinistic? Well, after all, blood is thicker than water!
