P.S: Dhoni, I really hate you

Dear Mahendra Singh Dhoni,

April 2nd 2011, Wankhede Stadium, World Cup finals. India vs Sri Lanka. The first Cricket match I ever saw. Sachin Tendulkar had just gotten out. I was starting to lose hope. That’s when you walked in. Tall and confident, you looked absolutely majestic walking in with your bat tucked under your arm. Your name flashed on the bottom in block letters. MS Dhoni. Your average was excellent. Obviously. You scored an unbeaten 91 and hit a six off of the last ball. Ww had won. It was the picture during the post match ceremony with the prestigious World Cup trophy. Everyone else was hogging the trophy and the limelight – both of which belonged to you. You were standing meekly in the side. I still remember that adorable lopsided grin on your face. That’s when you became my favourite cricketer.

I know there’s a lot of pressure on you now. Don’t listen to the haters. But to all the haters – I think they should remember that to err is human, and you are human. Those people make mistakes too. They talk as if they are all experts. If they were in the situations you were in, under the same circumstances, they would have cracked. Nobody would have been able to do what you’ve been able to for India. Nobody.

I don’t know what Mohinder Amarnath‘s problem with you is, but let me just say that it’s very suspicious that he waited for almost a year to ‘come clean about the truth’.

You’re so awesome. You have your own Cricket stroke. You come in at absolute pressure cooker moments and save the match. You have an inexplicably large fan following and I unequivocally put myself in that list. No matter what the situation, you have this contemplative, deep-in-thought look on your face. Every single time. All the time. No matter what. That’s just brilliant. How many people can do that? Not many. Not many at all. Now seriously, how do you do that? You take the blame for the weakness of the selection committee. You take the slack for the incapability of the senior players to make runs and guard their wickets. You’re India’s punching bag.

Now coming to the important part, why I hate you. I hate you because, when you serve match bans because the bowlers don’t know how to maintain proper over rates, I don’t feel like watching those matches. That perennial expression on your face – one of adorable confidence and humility – it’s uncanny how you do that. And it drives me completely and utterly crazy. Your hairstyles might be fickle, but that shiny mob of black hair was one of the first things I noticed about you. Dhoni – you make me wonder if I’m a cricket fan, or just an MS Dhoni fan.

Maybe you’re not hailed as the God of cricket like Sachin Tendulkar. Maybe you didn’t combat a malignant lung tumour like Yuvraj Singh. Maybe you’re not God. Maybe you’re not a cancer survivor. Maybe you don’t have superhuman strength. You’re the extremely and excessively talented Mahendra Singh Dhoni. You’re the one and ONLY Mahendra Singh Dhoni. And that in itself is the greatest gift. What would India do without you? You’re my hero. You’re India’s hero.

You’re Mahendra Singh Dhoni.

P.S: Dhoni, I really hate you.