My Tryst with God - West Indies in India 2011

“Arey! Eta toh khubi chchoto math!” (What a small ground!)

This was my first reaction as the Wankhede stadium loomed before me as I walked up the staircase leading to Level 1 of the Sunil Manohar Gavaskar Stand. It was the 24th of November, 2011; the time was around 9.50 am. My father and I had just entered the stands after having stood at the long entry line outside Gate No. 6 for almost 40 minutes, listening to the crowds cheering to every ball being bowled to the last 2 West Indian batsmen.

I was getting increasingly impatient. After all, I wanted to see God, but the problem with God was that he batted for India at No. 4. That meant 3 wickets had to fall, of which 2 were Indian, and it would sound immensely unpatriotic of me, secretly wishing them to fall as soon as possible. Thus my immediate priority was to get to the stands as soon as possible so that I could get a decent look at Him while the Indian side was fielding. If the other God sitting upstairs willed, I would get to see this God again later in the day.

And here I was, looking at an empty field which seemed almost equal in size to the track we had in front of our B-school at Vidyavihar. However, it was not much of a bother. This was my first time at a cricket stadium, seeing live action, and the size of the stadium didn’t matter. What mattered to me now, was that the West Indians had been dismissed for 590 and I had missed my chance to see God.

However what soothed me was, that our stand offered a beautiful view of the pitch, and we would be able to follow the action very clearly. It was almost like those camera angles which captured the ancient Test Matches, like when Don Bradman used to play. We went up to the 2nd level, and were duly instructed by the policemen: “Kahi bhi baith jaane ka!”(Sit wherever you want) Once we were seated, I took some time to check out the Wankhede.

The first thing I searched for was the Indian dressing room. It was towards our left, next to the MCA pavilion. Towards our right were the press box and the stand which held the maximum number of people: the Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar Stand.

“So when was the last time you have been to a stadium?” I asked my Dad.

“Oh! That was a long time ago. It was in 1974. That was also India versus West Indies, at the Eden Gardens. Gavaskar didn’t play because he had decided never to bat in front of the Eden crowd. Prasanna, Bedi, and Chandrashekhar were the ones who saved that Test with their devious spin. Pataudi was the captain. I guess it was his last Test…”

At that point, a loud cheer arose. As we turned to look, we saw the umpires coming on to the field. Soon we saw a long line of players coming down the staircase of the dressing room, wearing maroon caps. They descended, made a small huddle, had a brief discussion and then walked on to the field. The crowd didn’t seem to respond much to their entry, but suddenly when they were almost at the pitch, the cheers started again.

We turned to look again and there was he: the only triple centurion India has produced, typically swinging at the air with the bat, looking ready to dispatch some balls out of the stadium - Sehwag. And the other as quiet and focused as his name suggested – Gambhir, almost reminding me of Dada, as he took his stance.

1^st moment of the day: Sehwag on strike. The bowler runs in at full speed and delivers the ball. Sehwag hits it. At the same time, my father’s cell rings.

“Hey Roni, can you please see who it is? I am not wearing my specs.”

“Baba, it is some unknown number.”

At the same time, the rest of the stadium erupts in a huge roar, and the scoreboard tells me that the first six of the match has been hit, AND I MISSED IT!

2^nd moment of the day: Sehwag on strike. The bowler runs in at full speed again. There is a loud THWACK! Obviously Sehwag has hit the ball and hit it hard. It is an inside edge and the ball travels to the fence. I turn to my father and say: “What a shot!”

“Please see carefully. He’s out.”

“What? It’s a 4, right? How is he out?”

“Bowled!”

It is then that I notice that his wicket has been uprooted and Sehwag is walking back to the pavilion.

At the same time, a couple of things happen. No. 1: The Wall, Mr. Dependable Mr. Rahul Dravid comes out to bat. No. 2: The greatest cricketer the World will ever see comes out to the dressing room lobby. My heart skips a beat.

3^rd moment of the day: After having done batting practice for the first 15 deliveries, Dravid scores his first run. At 21, Dravid completes 13000 Test runs. There is a loud cheer for Dravid all around the stadium, as we all stand up and salute the hero of tough times.

However, a lot of funny things have already started happening. Suddenly the entire ground is supporting West Indies, praying, praying like anything for an Indian wicket to fall. I am one of them.

Moment of my life: Gambhir gets out. A very, very, brief silence, followed by cheers all around. I stand up with respect as a diminutive figure is seen descending from the stairway of the dressing room. My hands tremble as I capture the moment on my cell. He pauses, looks skyward and then proceeds to walk towards the pitch, while the rest of the stadium is chanting his name.

I can’t say how I feel, but at that point of time, what can be heard or felt is SACHIIIIIIIIIIIIIN ... SACHIN ........... SACHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN .... SACHIN! Finally, God is here to bat, and I am here to see him do it.

Yes, that day Sachin got out on 94. Dravid did not get to what could have been his 37th Test ton. Ashwin scored the first of his 4 centuries against the Windies. And of course, the match was tied because our tail-enders could not score just one more run.

But I will always fondly remember the 3rd day of the 3rd Test between India and West Indies in the winter of 2011 - as the day I met God.