A trip down the memory lane

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.. And only fools rush in

Aug 7^th- 2005 (Sunday) saw the culmination of an extraordinary day for cricket. The game’s most legendary battle between arch rivals – Australia and England, took on such unprecedented twists and turns, and fortunes vacillated on a knife’s edge, as first Shane Warne and the indefatigable Brett Lee, and later Lee and Kasprowicz, gallantly took on the Poms pace attack and threatened to spoil the Sunday siesta for the whole of England in almost chasing down a 4th innings target of 282, after being on the mat at 190 odd for 8. Even as Clarke was bowled by a ludicrous lollipop by Harmison that barely rattled his timber on the 3rd evening of the test match, so much so that he could be forgiven if he thought that the burly bowler was being unscrupulous in practicing his trade, the whole of England erupted in joy in what they saw would be a cake walk henceforth to claim the remaining 2 wickets and level the series at 1-1. And not too far off, Yuvraj Singh and the redoubtable Anil Kumble, the Indian juggernaut, ensured India scrape through to the finals, seeing off a spirited last minute surge by the young Windies side.

Bob Willis and Nasser Hussain, palpable victims of many a Ashes bruising at the hands of the Aussies, let the euphoria get to them in the commentary box as they displayed an avuncular trait in their sum up of the situation, with Bob Willis going on so much to say that even rain wouldn’t save the Aussies now, as if he was a pro at the Met office from years, and Nasser Hussian chiming in with his own jab at the Aussies and all but saying that doomsday awaited the Aussies on Sunday. Only Beefy Botham and Mikey Holding seemed to have a more restrained approach to it, nevertheless, to a man they felt the writing was on the wall for Ponting’s men.

Come Sunday, it was all but that. Shane Warne and Brett Lee strode out and started taking the attack to the Poms, smashing them to all parts of the ground and shrinking the target. Vaughan was no doubt perturbed, so did all the fans in the stands and the millions watching it on the telly and praying for an England victory. Flintoff unleashed some lethal stuff, Harmison more often than not went for the jugular, Lee got bruised, but they sportingly carried on, the last men on the burning deck. The vagaries of the game are such, that it truly is unscripted drama, as a scribe put it. Warney strode onto his stumps while trying to fend off a Flintoff delivery and suddenly the game is wide open again… In walked Kasper and without much ado sent the cherry racing to different parts of the ground to reduce the target further! At the other end, Brett Lee stroked the ball cleanly, took the singles at the right time and shielded, nursed and talked his supposedly less capable partner into hanging out and take it ball by ball.. Frayed nerves set in and when 14 was required, Simon Jones dropped Kasper at 3rd man.. How costly would that be ??

The same commentators ( Willis and Hussain) were now fickle in their narrative. “A most Extraordinary day” Willis pouted bemusedly while Hussain tried to rub it in further by talking about tail-enders penchant for run outs, loosing their calm, or anything that could possibly do them in. It was akin to walking into a Miami Strip club, you never know what you would get, good or bad, and they might just rub you the wrong way! 3 runs to get, just a stroke away from an amazing come from behind victory, Kasper gets done in by a fast n furious short ball by Harmison and the whole of England are besides themselves with joy. The 2 Aussie foot soldiers are on their knees, unable to stomach the enormity of it all, even as the Poms jump and jostle on each other like excited school kids who have just been given the week off. For many, the scenes and the preceding events that led to it were to die for, none wanted to say they missed out on this classic. That there’s none greater than the game was only further vindicated, if it ever was in speculation by the Doubting Thomases, and there could be no better advertisement for test cricket than this gallant battle between 2 foes for the game’s oldest trophy.

Many were the heroes, sung and unsung.. Warne, Lee, Trescothick, Flintoff, Giles figure top among them, but Freddy Flintoff clearly left the others behind by a mile with his dashing brawn -n -brain all round display in both the innings and walked away with the Man of the Match. Here was England’s answer to the Aussies, they saw him as godsend, a marauder of the Aussie attack, the man with the golden arm when they were on the field. As one banner cheekily proclaimed to the Aussies ” You say F*** Off, We Say FLINT-OFF “.

It was Friendship Day too and as if to epitomize it, Flintoff walked up, and then knelt down besides a shattered Lee and put an arm around him, probably consoling and lauding his epic effort. Lee and Kasprowicz are the nice guys in the Aussie team. And they finished last. A case of so near, yet so far and they are left to pick up the shards and regress. They were never supposed to win in the first place, anyway and the placebo that is Father Time will have to work its charm all over again. Its got something to do about being an universal healer.

Cricket can be the most fickle mistress goes the saying. And woe betide the fools who attempt to paint a rigid mural of the game and daub it with their own fallacies.

More often than not there is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The rainbow is more beautiful than the pot at the end of it, because the rainbow is now and the pot never turns out to be quiet what was expected.