Today, 8 year old Vasu and I took our cricket rivalry to the basement. The pitch was ceramic tiled, far more even keel than the Kotla, and the lights didn’t give in like Eden. It was an advert for taking cricket indoors. And had our short duel been telecast, who knows what could have been.
Equipment was standard, tennis ball and a MSD bat. The pitch was around 25 ft; not a speck of grass. It was liberating to chuck ball after ball. I even played left handed, got caught in front like Sanath.
Our match was abandoned abruptly. It was my tea break. Vasu and I shifted to the England South Africa game; just seeing Ntini play his 101st test put me off. I asked the boy how his football was coming along? Clearly two abandoned games in one day puts your mind of cricket. Then why am I writing this?
On Bored: You son of a pitch!