DISCLAIMER : Like the rhythms of a Test, my writing's tone may keep varying. Hope you can bear with it.
I love cricket. I watch a lot, some may say (okay, that would be my mom and dad) an unhealthy dose of it. I am not one of those who is for or against any format and love watching everything from BPL to IPL to the Ashes. I try and attend most matches that happen in my home city of Chennai varying from the Challenger Trophy to the Irani Trophy to Test cricket and IPL. I have watched a lot of cricket at my beloved Chepauk- sometimes alone, sometimes with two-three friends and sometimes with a horde of them. I am yet to attend a match with a member of the opposite sex, but let's leave that for another day.
THE SCENARIO
You may think why I am telling you all this. Well, to start off 22-24 February marks the first time I attend a Test match continuously for three days. It, as you may know, is the first match of four against Australia. Test cricket, in the way Neville Cardus and John Arlott described it, is indeed a glorious thing. It can never provide you instant gratification the way T20 cricket can. It takes time, a lot of time. Like today morning, when Siddle and Pattinson probe and probe. They keep at it. 10 overs. Less than 20 runs. It is not thrill a minute stuff. It is attrition, at it's best. Both the teams, locked in battle not willing to yield the crucial first hour of play. This is something you will never see in a limited over game. Then Tendulkar gets out, the crowd sulks. Some even go home. Their 'GOD''s quest towards an inevitable hundred is halted.
What happens next? In walks MS Dhoni, a suspect Test batsman. But, a messiah of the Chennai masses. He turns the game around in a manner reminiscent of Tendulkar the previous day. Tendulkar's is a short-timed assault aimed only at releasing pressure, Dhoni's is a more sustained one, to the tune of 200+ invaluable game changing runs. Whatever fault you may find with Dhoni with regards to his captaincy or Test batting skills, one thing you will always get from him is - commitment. He runs like his life depends on it, calculates risks, gets angry at Harbhajan for an ill-advised swipe, and shepherds Bhuvaneshwar Kumar, on debut in the process putting India in an extremely strong position from a point where it was anyone's game. This - this is something you can only see in a Test match. The rhythms, gear shifts, ups, downs, field changes, if you can spot them make for fascinating viewing.
THE WAIT
I would also like to focus on another interesting aspect of Test cricket. The wait. The interminable wait. You have watched Tendulkar finish the day undefeated on 71. You wait all evening and night long. Thoughts, possibilities pop into your mind. The thought of seeing Tendulkar in his last Test match at his favorite hunting ground. You have missed his 155* in '98, 136 in '99, his 126 in '01. You have regretted, despaired. This is your shot at redemption. A Tendulkar Test 100 is the pinnacle of your cricket watching career. You mull over it, sleep over it, even dream about it. And then comes Day Three. Potentially, the most crucial day of the Test match and the master is there to steer its course. Ah, the thrill. You park your bike at a friend's place. Take the train. See fellow passengers, all in anticipation. Hear stories. Think about telling your son in 2025 that you have watched a Tendulkar 100 over the course of two days. Smile to yourself, think about boasting to your friends spread across London, Detroit, Nesapakkam, KK Nagar that you were there. Watch people wear the same clothes on days two and three. Lucky charm they think they bring. It's beautiful, everything is beautiful. Then comes the master, the crowd roars, he glances one to fine leg for four. He comes closer. You shift in your seat and move closer. It's all there you think, all the signs point towards it. His walk, decisiveness. Even if he misses a few, you just coax yourself into believing that the mountain will be flagged. Lyon flights, invites the drive, he goes for it and misses. You assume the ball has missed the leg stump. But, then you hear the hush. A collective 30,000 mouthed gasp. It's over. He walks. People stand up, applaud, clap, bow. And he vanishes, into the pavilion and beyond. Your dream stands crushed. But, the wait, it is an experience that makes Test cricket unforgettable. It's slow burn, but it's luminous.
THE CROWDS
On day one, the numbers are low. Twitter and Facebook despair. They say Test cricket is dying. Chepauk, the last vestige is failing the Test. You are also disappointed. You imagine a cauldron of 40,000. Anyway, you move on. Sit next to a pair of old hands during the first session. Hear stories of how they smuggled in bottles of liquor in the 70's and got sloshed while watching Erapalli Prasanna fizz and GR Vishwanath buzz. You sink a bit more. Think how heavy-handed the security is today. You are asked to switch off your cell phone, albeit momentarily. You are not allowed re-entry. You think how crowds will turn up with such regulations. Ashwin then turns one past Cowan who has come down the track. A wicket has fallen. You rejoice. The local boy has done it. Watch the remaining sessions with a bunch of friends. Have fun. Wickets fall. Clarke shines. An even first day. Days two and three are truly wonderful. The crowds have swelled. Everyone diligently avoids the seats where there is no shade. You, thankfully are in comfortable seats. You meet a set of people you follow on Twitter. Marvel at their humor. Respect their cricket knowledge. Sometimes, the company determines your mood. Even when Harbhajan bowls tripe. you circulate jokes read on Twitter and laugh. Then things start moving. The Mexican Wave is up. Stand I begins the ruckus. You see it move, counter-clockwise. From yellow seats, to blue seats, to the commando chairs and then the Pavilion and MCC terraces. Old hands rise, young kids jump. All together. The collective again wins. The interactive screen, a new feature at the Chepauk displays messages. Clarke and Warner join in the banter, one does the Gangnam as well. All of you thank Clarke for being a sport. You see sons, dads, granddads, three generations sitting and enjoying the banter. A bunch decides to holler "Askalakadi galagalagala", the rest chorus "Hoo ha, hoo ha". The pee-pees and whistles are out. People wake others from their post-lunch siestas. Some are still dozing, some are reading the Hindu. Lunch-boxes, a staple on Test match day are missing though due to the new rules, so are water bottles meant to create din by banging on seats. But, it's fine man.
THE END
You meet a Canadian who has stayed in Australia for the past five years and is here for the Test. You ask him, surprised what a Canadian is doing at the cricket and whether he watches ice hockey. He tells you that ice hockey is too fast for him and the pace of Test cricket suits him. You tell about a quote you have read recently "In the fast-paced world that we live in, we should be thankful that something called Test cricket still exists with all its idiosyncrasies."
And you wait again. For days four and five.
Image Courtesy : http://static.sportskeeda.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Tendulkar_Chepauk-1111621.jpg
