It’s taken me the best of two days to pin down who Rohit Sharma reminds me of: Ijaz Ahmed, the neighbourhood butcher. Ijaz was bad news for India, and Rohit, until the twin hundreds struck his fancy was no different. But more than those lame comparisons, I think it’s the languid, heavy way of the players. And then of course, those eyebrows, and though I’ve not looked into either Ijaz’s or Rohit’s eyes, there is something there.
But what is it they say, that lazy elegance, in the case of Ijaz it was lazy-antithesis of elegance, and with Rohit I still can’t say.
On Bored: Nohit Sharma