What would RTH do?

That is the question.

If I were in a highschool yearbook, they would vote me most likely to die of a lynch mob. That does not prevent me from opening my mouth and serving a warm hearty cup of STFU to people who deserve it. My dark scathing humor will leave no matter of existence untouched. My innocence will touch your soul.

Welcome to a warped world turned inside out and upside down. All sorts of discretion advised.

Saturday, August 13, 2011


The first step of therapy is admitting there is a problem.
The second step of therapy is denial. Just deny everything and go right back into your happy place.

Being an Indian cricket fan is a tough, tumultuous and thankless job. There are far too many ups and downs for an ordinary heart to handle. It takes thick rhino hide, nay double thick tyrannosaurus hide to be an Indian cricket fan. We had been the number one test team since 2009. Then Just earlier this year we lifted the world cup and arrived as world champions in one day internationals as well. A few months later in a hot English August we lost our number one test spot to the English. When you have a number one team you expect them to clutch on to that top spot clawing and fighting. You hope to have a hard fought tough contest where a better side eventually prevails in a photo finish. As the NRA says "from cold dead hands". When you hold something precious, you fight unto death to keep it.

Unfortunately, no such thing happened. Here is what played out. The Englishmen came and asked for the number one spot. Our team peed in their pants and dropped down dead. They might as well have taken it from our cold dead hands then and there, but cricket is a funny game that allows no such thing. So for weeks now the Englishmen have been brutally whipping a dead horse till cricket thinks the horse is dead enough to pass its winning crowns.

As you can see it is very painful. Can you imagine watching your prize horse laying on the ground flaying in misery as a bunch of Englishmen pummel it to pulp, and then some more just for kicks? It takes me way back to the day when I was a little kid and our horse was not even a prize horse then. Our horse was some weird sickly breed. It was tiny with sprightly legs and skinny like pale hide stretched on a bag of bones. But we pleasantly denied it. It was not a nothing horse, it was not even a prize horse. Oh our horse was better than that. We had a glorious unicorn, it sparkled like Edward Cullen, it had a majestic horn and massive wings with which it soared in the sky like an eagle.

So that is the denial I shall regress myself into. Our cricket team is a magnificent unicorn, soaring in the sky. What pummeling at the hands of Englishmen are you talking about? Are you daft like a tea partier, you tea drinking, boot wearing country of Englishmen? Can't you see it flying high above the sky? Why it could take a pee on your barmy heads from up there. This is no ordinary cricket team of mortals, it is a unicorn, an immortal, descended from the heavens. An incarnation of great Gods.

One might ask why did this God like unicorn lose? A very good question. It has a simple answer though. People don't believe in unicorns and since I'm all grown up now, neither did I. But oh if you close your eyes and believe, the unicorn will fly high again. Cricket is a funny game where nothing can be told till the last ball is bowled. I've seen many unicorn miracles as a child. There were games where we were written off and all set to lose. People turned of televisions in disgust and went onto other things. I however believed in unicorns and watched the miracles. Remember the fateful last over that Sachin bowled against South Africa or the sandstorm innings in Sharjah? Or remember when Srinath and Kumble won us that match? Remember that battered team that emerged victorious in Perth after being broken in Sydney? All because of the unicorn.

Denial is beautiful like that. It makes victory tremendously magical, but it makes losses painful because your prize horse did not just get to old or too weak or blind sighted. People just did not have faith in the unicorn. It is like Tinker Bell in Peter Pan. Tinker Bell dies if people do not believe in magic and fairies. You have to clap and believe in Tinker Bell. So I won't shed a tear, I won't feel bad, I won't believe we have lost and I won't believe we are no longer number 1. I'm going into denial and will clap like Nancy Pelosi for my Tinkerbell cricket team and if we all believed and did so we will be number one again.

1 comment:

Ivre said...

Hehe nice take...I stopped following cricket when I realized our team is a sparkling "Unicorn".
That was some 5 years ago I think...