How Sachin Destroyed My Life: but gave me an All Access Pass to the world of Cricket

by Vikram Sathaye

  Going to England every summer has become something of a ritual. There was absolutely no way I would have missed the summer of 2011. What if Sachin got his 100th century at Lord’s? It did not happen and forget that, we just went downhill in that series. Right from day one, the Indian team just didn’t look good enough. Though Sachin was unwell at Lord’s I remember anyone who was anybody had turned up to see Sachin bat. Every Englishman who had turned up wanted him to score a 100, but England to win. The earlier evening I had got passes for his box which was specially reserved for his friends and family. The next morning as I walked into the hospitality box and found myself a seat, I was in for a surprise. Seated on my left was Sir Eric Clapton and Sir Ian Botham. This was truly going to be an interesting Test match, whatever the result might be. On my right I saw the Deutsche Bank stand where all the head honchos from the bank were watching the game with their clients. Amrit Mathur, once the Indian team’s manager, was sitting there and he immediately gathered his friends and called me to that box and surprise surprise for the next 10 minutes I was doing a stand-up show right there during a Test match. But then this is the ability which got me to Lord’s in Sachin’s box in the first place so I was not complaining. Sadly Sachin got out and inspite of Clapton being on my side, that night was not wonderful for any of us.

  Watching Test matches on a crisp English summer day is something that every cricket lover should experience at least once in their lifetime. The English still have a special place in their hearts for this format of the game and even today Test match tickets are always sold for the first four days at regular rates and the last day is a standard £ 20 rate which allows you to sit anywhere you want.

  Down Under

  I have had the pleasure of watching two series in Australia and at the cost of repeating myself this is a different and exciting experience. If you are a sports lover this is the country for you. These people love champions and for them you may be the worst species in the world, but if you can play something well you will be respected. It’s intimidating because even a potbellied 70-year-old Aussie can run 25 rounds of a ground while you are trying to burn your curry dinner with a 20-minute stroll around the park. That is why in this context if you look at the Indian team’s performance you are kind of satisfied because the sheer average fitness is far superior Down Under.

  If you have to experience the impact of a coliseum, no other cricket ground can give you that like the Melbourne Cricket Ground. The best part is the tram ride from the hotel and the walk over a huge bridge which has in-built speakers playing music. On the right is the Rod Laver Arena and as you turn left you see the magnificient structure of the MCG.

  It’s the largest cricket stadium in the world, with the highest light towers in a sporting venue. It’s a different issue that when bowlers are bowling at 140 kmph no amount of light is enough. The fastest ball bowled on this ground was by Shaun Tait at 160.7 kmph against Pakistan. It’s called the spiritual home of Australian sports, which is visible from the fact that there are six big bars inside the stadium. Even if you spend an hour at the MCG there is no chance you can stay sober.

  One of the most amazing things the MCG has perfected is the Portable Cricket Pitch technology. The pitch is prepared offsite (growing and nurturing the grass) and is then placed in the centre before the cricket season. So you can have a cricket game followed by an Australian rule football match followed by rugby. I think Indian grounds should adopt this technology because our grounds, apart from cricket are multi-purpose and are used for political rallies, weddings, funerals and music concerts.

  It’s not that only the international grounds are well equipped. A quick drive around Sydney organised by cricket coach Dean Gilchrist who also happens to be Adam Gilchrist’s brother actually was an eye-opening experience for me. He showed me the different school sports grounds around the city and trust me even they had super drainage systems and seemed fit to host international games. I think it’s to do with the culture. Sports comes first.

  Sachin was again close to getting a hundred on the Boxing Day Test at the MCG in 2011 and we were about to wind up for the day with the thought that we would see him get that much-awaited hundred the next day. I was watching the game with his wife Anjali who rarely comes to any of his matches. Whilst we were all having tea, suddenly there was a huge roar of the crowd and we realised Siddle had castled him. Oh no! Sachin was so close but yet so far from the magical figure of hundred 100s. There was silence and we left. Absolutely nothing to say. I walked down all the way to the press conference zone where the head of the MCG was walking towards the defined zone and as he passed by he mentioned to Mr Lele and a few journalists, “Your friend Sachin has destroyed me today.” When I asked what happened, he said, “My ticket sales goes down by 50 percent tomorrow, no food sales and therefore loss for the stalls and the bars. The government suffers as no one uses transport and no allowances for many. Why couldn’t he have got out tomorrow morning?” No one had an answer, not even Sachin. From there onwards, we lost that Test match. Something we should have won and then the series would have changed. I had never seen Sachin work so hard, success just eluded him. He toiled for hours in the nets, sometimes alone, yet could not get to the magic figure.

  The fastest ball bowled on the MCG was by Shaun Tait at 160.7 kmph against Pakistan.

  When the Test finished, I sent a text to Anjali asking her if they were free the next day to go to visit the beautiful Yarra Valley Vineyard near Melbourne. It so happened that they agreed as they also needed that break. Our dear friend Harsha Sheorey and his lovely wife Krushnaa arranged for two cars and we started our journey. Sachin’s son Arjun sat next to me. He is a cricket maniac and asked me and Harsha Bhogle around 100 questions on cricket during the entire journey. The last question floored me. “Who do you think is faster, Shoaib or Lee?” It was funny because the best answer to that question could come only from his father. As soon as we reached the vineyard we converted that into a cricket field and guess what, we played cricket there which kind of surprised the staff a lot. The greatest batsman in the world playing cricket with his son and his friends in a vineyard in Melbourne itself was a spectacle. When Arjun dropped a high catch because of the glaring sun, Sachin walked up to him and told him how it’s important to figure out a mechanism to catch the ball especially when the sun is directly coming into your eyes. I just couldn’t believe this, but then there are a lot of things that we still don’t know about the master. That’s why his autobiography becomes extremely crucial to demystify the man.

  I would still say that the most distinct memory from all my Australia trips has been the Sydneygate incident where Anil Kumble made a chilling statement saying “Only one team played in the spirit of the game.” It was a cracker of a Test match with so many highs and lows. Sachin’s 150 was world class and the photograph pointing at the Grand Stand is permanently etched in my mind and I still have that Sydney Morning Herald newspaper in my room. Sadly, the umpiring was the worst I had ever seen in my life and this also fueled the frustration of players from both teams. The Harbhajan-Symonds feud seemed normal to me, something that the Australians should have been used to as they do it all the time to others. Ponting’s complaining to the match referee seemed bizarre. It’s like Arnab Goswami complaining that Renuka Chaudhary talks too much.

  I couldn’t figure out who to blame for this mess. I too was inclined to blaming Ponting and his team for their bad behaviour. The late Peter Roebuck also wrote a scathing piece on the Australian captain the next day, proving that there was a general resentment against the Aussie skipper. The only thing which was troubling me and my conscience was that the match tickets to this game were given to me and my buddy Sundeep Gulrajani by Ricky Ponting himself.

  15

  Sledging

  “You are too old, forget it, you need to go,” said a petulant Michael Clarke to Sachin.

  The master had been out of the field with a minor injury and when he came in to bat, Michael Clarke went aft
er him continuously.

  This however irritated Sehwag, who walked up to him and asked, “How old are you?”

  Michael: “Mate 23.”

  Sehwag: “Do you know he has more hundreds than your age! If you want to abuse someone, see that he is at least of your age and experience.”

  This however didn’t stop Michael and it was only Viru’s clincher that finally shut him up.

  Viru asked, “Your teammates call you pup, right?”

  Clarke replied, “Ya Mate.”

  Viru retorted, “Which breed?”

  For the rest of the Test, Michael Clarke was subdued and I’m sure every time he hears his nickname, he’s reminded of this episode.

  When I recently reminded Sehwag about this incident, he said: “In the initial years it was alright because my English was not so good and I never understood the opponent’s accent, so it didn’t matter. But then when I started understanding the language I started getting a little affected so when someone said anything I used to go and give it back to him. But sometimes I preferred to just walk up to the third umpire and chat with him while the bowler continued with his verbal barrage.”

  Sometimes constant chatter by the Australian bowlers can get irritating even for the people watching. I once saw Mitchell Johnson continuously sledge Sehwag and try to disturb his momentum. It went on for a full over and while I was getting irritated with his behaviour, Viru seemed completely unperturbed. He was probably thinking about why his cook had put less butter on his parathas that morning. At one point I wanted to walk up to Mitchell Johnson and tell him, “You should stop it for your own good. There is no point in sledging Viru as the decision to hit a 6 over third man had been taken a week before and it had nothing to do with your bowling skills or his mental state which you are trying to disturb.”

  The term sledging means to verbally insult and intimidate your opposition. Well I can proudly say that I was a witness to one of the greatest sledging incidents during the “Monkeygate” affair in Sydney in 2007. As live spectators we had absolutely no idea what was happening on the ground. For us Indians, the concept of calling someone a “monkey” was never considered racist and addressing someone maaki was an act of endearment. In fact, while growing up in India, calling someone a “monkey” or a “donkey” as a kid was a sign that the person came from a cultured family and his parents would take great pride that their child did not use any foul language. I’m sure even PETA would have appreciated this behaviour. So we couldn’t understand why the Australians who sledge for a living made such a hue and cry about it. The controversy simmered for a long time and the media went ballistic over how tensions exist between players and nations. All I can say is that it launched the alternate careers of all the people involved. Mathew Hayden is now the official cook of various restaurants in India, Symonds bagged a spot on Bigg Boss and Harbhajan Singh got the courage after this incident to not only slap Sreesanth, but also lift up Nita Ambani on the cricket field which must have been the bravest act perpetrated in India since Bhagat Singh’s mutiny against the British.

  There is no point in sledging Viru as the decision to hit a 6 over third man has been taken a week before and it has nothing to do with the bowler.

  The objective of sledging is to cause mental disintegration of the person who it is aimed at. In cricket however, the reward is in the form of a wicket or a bad ball from the bowler. The effects of sledging can be severe which is evident from what happened to Jonathan Trott and Graeme Swann during the Ashes recently. One left the tour because of depression while the other retired mid tour. The only person who remained calm amidst all this disintegration was Monty Panesar who stayed cool and tried to convince American girls to visit him in his room. It was his way of de-stressing. This ability to not get affected by the tensions around, I think is a true sign of a champion.

  The epicentre of sledging is the wicketkeeper supported by the slip fielders because of the proximity to the batsmen. In one-day cricket he does it all alone because of the lack of close in fielders. Moin Khan, the Pakistani wicketkeeper could get so irritating that even the viewer felt that he was being sledged at times. I’m sure that even in his sleep, Moin must be shouting, “Cmon Saqi, shabhash, aage se daal, no problem Saqi.”

  Kumara Sangakarra is supposed to be the loudest and in the batsmen’s ear all the time. For all those who don’t know, Sangakarra is a law student and carries his books on cricket tours. Well, come to think of it there is lot of similarity between a lawyer and a wicketkeeper, as they spend most of their lives appealing, usually for the wrong reasons. The only difference being that one takes off the bail while the other one applies for it.

  A funny incident happened in India’s 2010 tour of England between two wicketkeepers. Matt Prior was chatting a lot especially when Dhoni came to bat at the crease. As the story goes, when Prior’s chattering got a bit too much, Dhoni walked up to him and said, “Matt you are wasting your breath. We get sledged by a billion people everyday back home, you think a few shouts from you will make any difference to me?” This just reinforced his captain cool image.

  One of the best sledges came from ex-Indian wicketkeeper Kiran More. Jimmy Adams from the West Indies was at the crease. Jimmy must have mastered at least 400 different methods to pad the ball to the extent that we had started calling him “Jimmy Padams”. During one such innings his bat chipped and he signalled towards the dressing room for a new one. Kiran More jumped from behind and said, “If you haven’t used one for so many years, why do you want to use one now?”

  Sometimes the most humiliating sledges come from the crowd instead of the opposition team. Mathew Hayden’s love for cooking is well known and documented. In one of the games he played after the launch of his cookbook, he got out cheaply and on his way back to the pavilion, he got sledged by a guy in the stands who said, “Forget your batting mate, even your chicken stew sucks.”

  Graeme Smith was going through a miserable time in 2006 during India’s tour of South Africa and had got out thrice to Zaheer Khan. At that time he was dating this beautiful South African model called Mink. I remember entering the Kingsmead ground in Durban where there was a big banner which read, “FORGET ZAHEER KHAN, HOPE YOU AT LEAST SCORED WITH MINK.” I thought it was mean but that’s what crowds could do to you.

  The similarity between a lawyer and a wicketkeeper is that they spend most of their lives appealing, usually for the wrong reasons.

  It’s not just cricketers who get sledged. As a stand-up comic I get heckled once in a while by someone in the audience who thinks he’s smarter or is in some way trying to get his frustration out after he is a few drinks down. The challenge is not to get rattled but to give it back with an intelligent repartee.

  Even as a school kid I remember being sledged by my mates and that had a deep impact on my life. In addition to this there were endless taunts from my family members for being an average student. So when I dig deep inside, I realise that becoming a comic came from the need to give it back to society’s barbs by being perceived as cool and intelligent. It’s probably the Sidhu effect.

  The moral of the story is that wherever and whatever you do, you could get heckled. This phenomenon has been seen in every aspect of life since time immemorial. The mother-in-law, daughter-in-law relationship highlighted by prime time soaps are perfect examples of the art of sledging. It is something which is intrinsic to every aspect of human life whether it is Parliament, a corporate boardroom or your co-operative society meeting. My observation is that all those who have been heckled in the early part of their life have two options. Either they get motivated to perform better or they get affected and leave the race. I don’t blame either of them but ideally one would like to be in the former situation.

  Coming back to cricket, the modern player has to take a lot of heckling from the crowds and sometimes it becomes unbearable, which is what happened with Virat Kohli in Australia in 2011 which led to the middle finger incident. The good part was that it fired him up and made h
im perform better. I am sure BCCI will insure the middle fingers of all the players in the next tour to Australia.

  Many people feel that Virat’s aggressive behaviour is detrimental to his game. This is a very middle-class, God-fearing point of view which my generation suffered from. It came from a point of view that if you behaved badly, God would punish you and you would lose in life. Times have changed and things work differently for this generation. Aggression is a part of their life and unlike us they don’t get affected by it. Rahul Dravid and Anil Kumble came from a generation that believed in keeping their mouth shut and letting their performance speak for themselves, but this generation of players does it differently. It’s important to understand that nobody is right or wrong as long as it’s in the spirit of the game.

  If you thought Indians are docile, timid and complete puritans when it comes to sledging, you are mistaken. They just do it subtly. I once sat in the commentary box and heard an entire over on the stump microphone. We are the types who have mastered the art to such an extent that we can do it with no expression on our face and the Indian slip cordon would give even a seasoned ventriloquist a run for his money.

  A typical over of Anil Kumble would begin with a shout from wicketkeeper Dinesh Karthik, “C’mon Anil bhai,” then Sachin would say, “Shabash ladko shor machao Kallis aaya hein.” Dinesh was the find in South Africa when it came to chatting behind the stumps. Once Shaun Pollock had a verbal altercation with Kumble and the atmosphere was tense because the crowd support for Pollock in South Africa was extremely high. Everybody was silent…one saw Kumble visibly disturbed walking back to the mark…and suddenly there is a voice saying, “C’mon Anil bhai this is the chance to get Pollock, he’s upset, I have never seen Pollock upset before… this is the chance.” Once Sachin started turning the ball, he started shouting, “C’mon Warnie … that’s the way.” He didn’t even spare Graeme Smith. When Sreesanth was bowling to him he said “C’mon Zaheer.” This is the extent to which Indian cricket has changed.