Dada - the skipper!
It was July 13, 2002, Natwest series final - India vs. England. I remember it so vividly not only because India had pulled off one of the most sensational run chases but also because I turned 16 that day. My father, who idolised Sachin's humility, Dravid's discipline and Kumble's gentlemanly conduct despised Ganguly for his unabashed arrogance. Fed on a regular diet of down-to-earth cricketing idols, he could never come to terms with Dada's pride and aggression.
Coming back to the final, India had lost the preceding nine consecutive finals and were well set to lose the tenth one. Nasser Hussain scored a century and pointed to his shirt while gesturing to the press box. My dad spoke about the skipper leading from the front. We had to chase a huge record total of 326. In those days, 326 was almost impossible (Now even Bangladesh can score that) And when we began our run chase, we faltered. When Sachin was cleaned up by Giles and the scorecard read 146/5, my father switched off the television set and began to mourn. (My father and I are hardcore Sachin fans) As for me, it was my birthday and I switched it back on praying for a birthday miracle.
As the chase gathered momentum, dad returned and we both were glued to the TV set until Zaheer and Kaif scampered for the winning runs from the overthrow with an ecstatic Ravi Shastri shouting in the commentary box, "India have created history here." And then they showed Dada. There he was - brash, proud, waving his shirt wildly yelling at the top of his lungs. My lipreading skills told me that I should be looking anywhere but the screen. You see, I did not want my parents to know that I'd learnt new vocabulary. When I turned to my dad, the look on his face said it all. It was a look of joy.. admiration.. pride!
And then it struck me. Of course, he'd never want his son to idolise someone who yells 'fuck' from the Lord's balcony after a victory. But he sure admired him for his aggression and arrogance.. the way he inspired and marshalled his troops.. the way he led from the front.. But he never showed his admiration. Neither did I.
Dada stood for everything which a middle-class Indian would not want to see in his son - he was a rebel who defied every norm. When he was made the skipper, he injected the Indian team with loads of enthusiasm and self-belief. Fearlessness and team effort were the mantras and the media, noticing the changes, coined the term Team India. Team India captured the nation's imagination with our aggressive attitude. Suddenly, cricket was no longer a gentleman's game. May be that is why, although we had some new found admiration for the Prince of Calcutta, our loyalties were unmoved.
That night, after the presentation ceremony, I took a playful jab at my dad, "He's not a bad captain after all." My dad's reply was an expected one, "Well, if he could be less arrogant, he'd go on to become a great captain."
Dad, if he could be less arrogant, he wouldn't be Sourav Chandidas Ganguly. Sensational, dramatic and yes, arrogant. Hats off, Dada!
Coming back to the final, India had lost the preceding nine consecutive finals and were well set to lose the tenth one. Nasser Hussain scored a century and pointed to his shirt while gesturing to the press box. My dad spoke about the skipper leading from the front. We had to chase a huge record total of 326. In those days, 326 was almost impossible (Now even Bangladesh can score that) And when we began our run chase, we faltered. When Sachin was cleaned up by Giles and the scorecard read 146/5, my father switched off the television set and began to mourn. (My father and I are hardcore Sachin fans) As for me, it was my birthday and I switched it back on praying for a birthday miracle.
As the chase gathered momentum, dad returned and we both were glued to the TV set until Zaheer and Kaif scampered for the winning runs from the overthrow with an ecstatic Ravi Shastri shouting in the commentary box, "India have created history here." And then they showed Dada. There he was - brash, proud, waving his shirt wildly yelling at the top of his lungs. My lipreading skills told me that I should be looking anywhere but the screen. You see, I did not want my parents to know that I'd learnt new vocabulary. When I turned to my dad, the look on his face said it all. It was a look of joy.. admiration.. pride!
And then it struck me. Of course, he'd never want his son to idolise someone who yells 'fuck' from the Lord's balcony after a victory. But he sure admired him for his aggression and arrogance.. the way he inspired and marshalled his troops.. the way he led from the front.. But he never showed his admiration. Neither did I.
Dada stood for everything which a middle-class Indian would not want to see in his son - he was a rebel who defied every norm. When he was made the skipper, he injected the Indian team with loads of enthusiasm and self-belief. Fearlessness and team effort were the mantras and the media, noticing the changes, coined the term Team India. Team India captured the nation's imagination with our aggressive attitude. Suddenly, cricket was no longer a gentleman's game. May be that is why, although we had some new found admiration for the Prince of Calcutta, our loyalties were unmoved.
That night, after the presentation ceremony, I took a playful jab at my dad, "He's not a bad captain after all." My dad's reply was an expected one, "Well, if he could be less arrogant, he'd go on to become a great captain."
Dad, if he could be less arrogant, he wouldn't be Sourav Chandidas Ganguly. Sensational, dramatic and yes, arrogant. Hats off, Dada!
"I dont know whether one duck made my career more dramatic. It was dramatic in any case."
Sourav Ganguly on what his last Test innings signified
blabbered by The optimist from utopia at 1:42 AM
4 Comments:
Yeah, the quote about his career being dramatic was sensational! Typical Ganguly-like sign off.
hmm...
Agree with the dramatic part. He always was a showman.
Hmm... on Vamsi's Hmm...
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