Live From Chepauk – Day 3

I was there. I witnessed history.

I wasn’t expecting to do so as I boarded the by now familiar train to Chepauk. After all who does ever? The day began with a tinge of cloud in the air. It was the first minor weather concern for the test match. Luckily, it blew past. Maybe the heavens, unlike me, expected history to be written today and did not wish to interrupt.

I missed the first couple of overs. That was all I missed. What happened after that has been written in one glorious chapter in the annals of cricket, and, in a very small way, I was part of it. I stood up to applaud as Sehwag completed his 100, his 150, his 200, his 250 and his 300. I cheered 42 boundaries and 5 sixes. It was the fastest triple hundred ever and Viru was only the third man to cross 300 twice – the other 2 being some little known cricketers, Bradman and Lara. Though I still did not carry my camera, I recorded that moment in the evening when he flicked Makhaya Ntini towards square leg for a single in my memory forever.

He always looked in the mood to attack today. Up until yesterday I was looking at the field, figuring out the possibilities where runs could be scored and deliberating about lines of attack for the bowlers. All such trivialities were thrown out of the window today. The fields, the lines, the bowlers all became irrelevant. Sehwag was seeing the ball, Sehwag was hitting the ball.

A lot had been said up until today in all sorts of places about the flat Chennai wicket and the way it was detrimental to the cause of test cricket and depriving the fans of a good contest. That might be so, but all I can say is, while I might have missed a “good contest”, I had the opportunity to witness history. I am not complaining. My only grouse is that because I am not a historian I may be incompetent to narrate it. Therefore, I shall not attempt to do so. I would make a fool of myself trying to confine the magnificence of Sehwag’s innings by bounding it in adjectives. I will leave it at that.

Throughout the innings Dravid was supporting Sehwag superbly, maybe not in the best way in terms of rotating the strike, but certainly in terms of providing encouragement and appreciation. At every landmark he patted him on his shoulder, egged him onto greater heights and when the big moment came, entered into a great hug. But the most wonderful moment of the day came at the end of the day’s play. Sehwag was just done with the customary Ramiz Raja interview when Tendulkar all padded up walked out and broke into a most wonderful brotherly hug. At this point, I was only a few feet away from the action and the smile on Sachin’s face was to be cherished forever.

Later, while Sachin was waiting for his net session to begin, Yuvraj and Dhoni were pulling each other’s legs. Dhoni tried to mimic Yuvi by taking a left-handed upright stance and Yuvi returned the favor completely taking a right-handed slightly crouched stance tapping the bat a few times like MS usually does.

The stadium was almost 80% full today. This figure increased to 90 by the end of the day. There was a group of rather vocal MBA students sitting right behind me. They were apparently terribly distressed by the fact that not many people agreed that the best way to be enthusiastic about the game was to shout at the top of their voice. The content, while irrelevant, was mostly inane. At least one of them seemed particularly angry with the way Jaffer and later Dravid were batting and made it known to all that he had paid Rs. 300 to buy the ticket and he wanted every paisa worth. He very wisely described the Chennai crowd as “too knowledgeable” and “too sporting” and went gaga over how wild the Mumbai crowd could get. He further went on to say, nay shout, that he wanted to see Tendulkar bat today, that he didn’t care about how many wickets we lost and reiterated that he had indeed paid Rs. 300 to get in.

While this was a bit stupid and grew tiresome at times, the group as a whole was nice lively company. In their attempts to get wild, one of the things they did was to try to initiate the Mexican wave. Now, I have already described how I was part of the Mexican wave yesterday. To join it is great fun, but to initiate it is a job that requires a lot of patience and persistence. Several times it dies out within the first few degrees across the stadium. But once the spark is lit it spreads like wild fire. And it is even greater fun knowing you were one of those who lit the spark.

Once again, at the risk of repeating myself I stress – I witnessed history today. Some souls, undoubtedly more lucky than me, watched the ICL.