Untagged Book list

To say that I am sorely disappointed at not being 'tagged' to unleash my favourite 10 books is an understatement. People I call friends, acquaintances et al have abandoned my yearning desire to share. Ah well, as my wife suggested, why not go ahead and make the list anyway. Its not a relay, is it, You can run whenever you want. I took heed, as I usually do. So here it is.

My relationship with books, or pages of print enclosed within some sort of a cover, and once or twice even without one, has been patchy. I discovered my love for reading when very young, trying to make up for the lack of talent, friends and any sort of social life. Now that may sound like me feeling sorry for myself. It probably is, but it was also true. I had precisely 6 guys I could call friends during the 10 years I spent at Vincent's and I am in touch with precisely none of them at this point.

But I digress. So I was a book reader of some repute. Family, relatives all but called me a Booknose, apparently because they never saw that appendage of mine on account of it was always behind some book or the other. I read everywhere, and at all times; I frequented 2 libraries (3 at one point) in addition to the one at school, and I could never understand why libraries would have a limit on the number of books one could take out at a time. I would read through breakfasts, lunches, dinners, family friend visits, weekends, festivals...you get the picture. Ironically, as it turned out, the only place I wouldn't read was on the pot. Ironical because that is now the only place I do read.

Then college arrived, and the flow was interrupted. I still read, but the frequency was reduced. I still went to book sales, but the unread ones started to pile up. When I came to Bombay for my first job away from home, I was a regular visitor to the annual Strand book sale, spending a good deal of money on books I did not have the time to read.

Years went by, and the cycle of life progressed to marriage and fatherhood. There was a point, well more than a point, more like a extended line, that stretched to several years when I don't remember reading at all. What got me to restart I don't know, but the last few years have seen quite a few tomes go into the "Completed" section of my bookshelf. And most of the reading, almost 90% of it has been done on the crapper. It takes more time to get through one now, but I'm getting through them all right.

The list below is a combination of books from my first phase of life - when the reading was light, life was simple and predictable, and time didn't matter - and from the mrs recent phase of complications, decisions, and lessons learnt. It is not a list of 10 - I started by saying I would list all I could think of, then pare it down, but that has not been possible. And I don't even think this is a finite list. It will keep growing.

Happily it is a perfect mix of fiction and non, at least numerically - 6 of each. My favourite author naturally had to have more than the single entry, and there is one entry that comprises 5 (so far). But I enjoyed making this. I have been wanting to get back to blogging, and this gave me a good topic to do so. So here, in no particular order, other than FIMFOP (First In Memory First On Page)

1. Wolf Hall – Hilary Mantel Had only brushed past Thomas Cromwell in a chapter on World History in school, so was surprised and completely unprepared for how significant a figure he was. The style of writing took some getting used to, but once that happened, it just slid on like a comfortable glove. Beautiful writing on a story that could have been told in 10 pages or a thousand. Mantel falls somewhere in the middle but keeps the grip on, in what could have been tedious reading. It was like watching history in full HD.
2. Empress of Blandings – P.G. Wodehouse
   Calling PG my favourite author is like . Since the time I took up one of his books in my final years in school, I can only associate him with the tears that ran down my cheeks as I tried to keep the laughs quiet and within my belly. I even seem to recall falling off a narrow sofa in my earliest home because I couldn’t keep myself from doubling over. Today, I seldom go through any of these volumes without a fixed grin on my face. Lord Emsworth from Blandings would have been everyone’s favourite uncle if the world of Blandings was made compulsory reading at early school level.
3. On Warne – Gideon Haigh
   I distrust biographies because they always seem to project an idol from a singe, sometimes biased perspective. Haigh’s reputation as a writer was the only reason I picked this one up, and was I glad I did! The blurb on the front page – From the greatest cricket writers of our time, on the greatest cricketer of our age – actually is the most accurate description there is for this book.
4. Far from the Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
   No one does pathos and melancholy as well as Thomas Hardy (well maybe Shakespeare, but I like reading stuff written in the original language, which I can understand). And none makes a landscape as good a character as the human elements in a story as much as Hardy. And this from someone that usually skips through verbose and poetic descriptions of the envrions.
5. Leave it to Psmith – P.G. Wodehouse
   I saw “Isi Bahane” on TV (this a generation before satellites evolved into living room invaders) almost a decade before I read the book that inspired it. Psmith was so underrated as a Wodehouse character; I would completely ignore it at the library. Thank the Gods that be I had no more Jeeves and Emsworths left to explore. Psmith is the kind of person everyone aspires to be. The personification of cool, the debonair gentleman and rogue, the man with an answer to everything, everytime, a charmer who caused a flutter where he went, and one with whom you had the assurance that all would, eventually, end well.
6. A Short History of Nearly Everything – Bill Bryson Who knew history could be interesting, and so funny!
7. A Corner of a Foreign Field – Ramchandra Guha
   A history of Indian cricket from the eyes of a very articulate fan of the game.
8. Eats, Shoots and Leaves – Lynne Truss
   English can sometimes be an infuriatingly illogical language, and sometimes what you’ve “known” all your life may not always be the "right way". Truss finds a way to right the misonceptions in the most delightful and engrossing way. Should be compulsory reading at school, I say. (Incidentally, apologies to Ms Truss for all the transgressions I've no doubt made in this little piece against all the rules she mentions in this book)
9. The Song of Ice and Fire series – George R R Martin
   Have told this story many times, so at the risk of repeating myself for the nth time, let me start by saying that I did not read the first book in this series till (more than) a few years after a visiting client gifted it to me. At the time, the gifter had claimed that this was one of the “great modern American classics” (it is nothing of the sort of course), which along with the strange dragon on the cover kinda put me off it. The book stayed on my shelf till one evening when I could find nothing better to start up on. And once I did, I could not put it down. By the time I was finished, I was ready for the next in the series….and now 5 have been published and  promptly devoured. No one was more excited when news of a TV series was announced. HBO, no less. Felt an odd sense of foolish pride when the series turned popular. Today it holds the record for the ‘most downloaded series’ in history. My only grouse – the man who writes these does so very slowly. Book 6 is in the works for over 2 years now with no sign of a release date…and that man is not getting younger. My biggest fear is that Martin will pass over to a more spiritual abode, leaving everyone wondering what happened to the Starks and that spunky dwarf Tyrion. Rude? Maybe. But history teaches us, a story is best told till the end by the one who started it. People that pick up an incomplete story to complete it never do it justice. So there!
10. The Secret History – Donna Tartt Have to thank the Guardian for this. Saw this article on this writer who had published one fantastic novel, well received and successful, and then vanished into seemingly thin air. Tartt achieved fame early in life with this book, and then disappeared, resurfacing last year with “The Goldfinch”. I intend on reading that someday, but at the time I read about the real life version of Finding Forrester, Tartt’s life story intrigued me enough to go back to the original talent-revealing debut novel. I was not disappointed. This is a truly gifted author. Hope she can keep writing often enough to slake our appetites.
11. The Big Short – Michael Lewis
    I had read other books on the financial crash of 2008. The bursting of the subprime bubble has been examined in minute detail in several books like Joseph Stiglitz’s Freefall, but none of the experts had looked at it from the angle Lewis has. And almost none have the flair and ease of the written word that Lewis has. Looking forward to reading more of his work.
12. Fever Pitch – Nick Hornby
    Tales from the diary of a football club fan. Hornby is an Arsenal fan, but he might have been speaking for every single one of that wonderful breed. I could identify with parts of his obsession, and am sure there are millions out there who might have thought this book was a startling image of the person they saw in the mirror each day. Funny, scary, and heart-warming in equal measure, Hornby does not condone or validate the obsession, but he sure does humanize it.

Red and blue

This has got to be the shittiest way of resuming the blogging hobby, but I suppose the way the year began, I shouldn't have expected anything better. Another loss for United, this time in the FA Cup, to go with the loss to Spurs that the year began with, and we are now looking at the possibility of having a very bad end to the season. Of course, there are still 4 and bit months to go, but you can't help look at the portents without a sense of doom and gloom. This loss has firmed my resolve, once again, to stop staying up late to watch the United games. How long the resolve lasts will depend on how long United continue down this spiral down to Hell.

I could go into some heavy analysis into what I think is wrong with this United team, and I don’t think I would be far wrong. I don’t think I’d be far right either. It is not a great time to be a United fan. These defeats had always been hard to take, and these last two especially so. Tottenham have some good players and so have Swansea. They also have smart, young, attack minded managers in Sherwood and Laudrup, but their form of late has been inconsistent. They have not been beating the top teams and haven’t looked that convincing when playing the rest either. United, till this latest loss, at least could have laid claim to winning at least against teams not in the Top 8. No longer, it would seem.

If I had been asked however to analyse this string of defeats (United has now lost 4 games at home, and we are only in January – I don’t know the stats, but I think you would have to go far down the years to find a worse record in recent years), I would have said its lack of confidence. As simple as that would seem, it is really just that. United have not had a great team for the last 3 years. Remember when Rooney made noises a couple of years ago of wanting to quit because we weren’t signing any big players? He was right, even if his motivations were probably less noble than what his statement signified. Ever since the Glazers took over, Fergie has had to do with limited budget to get the kind of players he has wanted, and I suspect the Glazers played him very well in that Fergie has never publicly said he has not had the money to buy. Suspecting the Glazers had Fergie convinced only he mattered in the long run is probably simplistic, but it is the only way I can explain Fergie’s reluctance to get into the transfer market with an purpose for his last few years at the helm. So we have this team that is not very competitive, filled with players who wouldn’t have made the starting team of most international, let alone club teams. The fact that they have been competing well for the League title for these last years has to do with Fergie’s imposing stature in the dressing room, on the sidelines, in press rooms, in interviews…everywhere really. He was the wolf that huffed and puffed and the United team sailed in that wind that his personality generated. So when he left, abruptly for many people, it created a vacuum that paradoxically sucked out the confidence from the bubble that was the United team.

All of a sudden there was a new manager, one capable on paper to handle a team of this standing, yet someone who had never won anything of note. David Moyes is a coach any team would have felt lucky to have, and he had been in the very-shortlist for the longest of times. And yet, when it came to the reality that was United, it was clear that it was not just a matter of assuming the role; it actually meant carrying on the winning habit. Which was always going to be a problem with the team that he inherited. The summer that followed was not the brightest for Moyes or United or the common fan. The inexperience of the acquiring team was not helped by the perceived fall in stature that prevailed in the minds of any targets that United had in mind, and the August window closed with confusion, chaos and humiliation – and just Fellaini to show for it.

To complicate matters further, there was controversy in the form of the Rooney drama, and then a spate of injuries to key players. Van Persie, Carrick, Rafael, and then Rooney himself fell to ailments that kept them out for long critical periods. Nothing that Ferguson did not have to contend with under his command, so what is different this year? A couple of seasons ago, United had one of their regular back 4’s available, so we had Carrick and Fletcher as center backs and Valencia as the right half back. It didn’t work and with De Gea still finding his feet, this was the weakest I have ever seen United in defence. And yet, they competed, challenged for the title, and lost out on the final day when Aguero danced past the QPR defence and scored that heart breaking title clincher.

So, problems have been surmounted with pomp and élan, and now when they resurface, pundits and fans alike expect to see the resurgence of old. For what is a United team if not resilient and guaranteed to bounce back? This season has seen a few mini comebacks that have looked like comebacks only because of the constant string of failures. The season was prefaced with an insipid set of friendly fixtures, where they lost an alarming number of games, and leaked goals in almost every one of them. The first game of the season saw hope spring anew as the very Swansea team that would knock them out of the FA Cup was bounced out for 5 goals without reply. Then came the reverse against West Brom, the losses to Liverpool and Man City, the draws with Cardiff and Spurs, and before they knew it, United was languishing in the second 5. Then there was a short burst of victories, highlighted by a somewhat surprising unbeaten run in the Champion’s League. Then came back-to-back home losses to Everton and Newcastle, followed by another string of wins against lesser teams, which rekindled hope of at least a top 4 finish. That must now surely be considered unlikely with the latest defeats at home.

Beginning the year with a tough set of fixtures did not help obviously, but at the time, the thing that surprised me was how Moyes reacted to it. Not because he did not have reason to, but just that it was unusual for him to complain like that. It occurred to me that Fergie would have done the same thing, and it slightly concerned me that Moyes seemed to have done what his predecessor would have. In the months that followed, its been a struggle for Moyes, not because of the humungosity of the job at hand, but because he is measured up in everything that he does against what “Fergie would have done”.  It was an easy trap to fall into, and with the kind of scrutiny the job comes with; any man with a weaker stomach may have crumbled. Moyes has braved the storm well, has not let his composure be shaken, but has yet to make this job his own.

And therein lies the rub. Moyes will always have a tough job at United, and one doubts he expected any less, but if he is seeking to keep up the Fergie legend, he will be out of the job faster than anything he’s ever done. It is striking that most of the losses have come at home. The Old Trafford crowd can be intimidating, more for the home team perhaps when the going goes tough. Unlike other clubs that have known failure, and can afford to be upbeat in the face of constant defeats, this crowd is not used to more than cheering the goals that its team scores. It is a well-known fact that at OT, if you silence the crowd, you tend to get a result. I first saw this in the 1-6 defeat to City 2 seasons ago. As soon as the noisy neighbours scored the first, they had the strangle on the crowd, and with that the eleven on the field. That has happened more and more this season – teams have come to Old Trafford unafraid of being aggressive, and the crowds have been unsure, not confident in their new manager, and that has been personified in their team’s performances. Away from home, the performances have not been much better, but the mistakes have been fewer, the limbs freer, the flow a little better.

So it’s a crisis of confidence, and there is now a feeling that something has to change. It is a cycle that needs breaking. Whether that is done through a influx of new faces - or one big one, like Ozil seemed to have engineered for Arsenal - or a change in tactics, it is Moyes who will need to be at the forefront and he is the one that will, at least in perception, need to drive that change. If not, the change that will inevitably occur, even with all this talk of United giving more time to its managers, will be in the name of manager. And that will be unfortunate. For in my mind, Moyes is the man for the job. It is however not I, or the millions of fans worldwide, or the pundits, or Old Trafford for that matter, who needs to be convinced. It’s the 11 on the pitch that have to believe in him the way they believed in a grey headed bespectacled grandfather with a tasty hair dryer.          

Response to an obnoxious letter

Hi Sampath,

Read your article for the DNA a few days ago. Was moved to write a response.

I’m someone who likes celebrity bashing as much as the person in the next cubicle. And Sachin, while someone I respect a lot, is not my favorite sportsperson, or even cricketer. Some of the questions you put forth were quite relevant, things I have groused about in the past. But the way you put them forth appears churlish, and quite frankly incendiary – meant to irritate than get any serious answers. This kinda demeans the intent, assuming that intent was to get straightforward answers to legitimate questions.
What I inferred from your queries was hurt mostly, and rejection, either personal or of some idol of you own that you felt got slighted because of the demi-god status that Tendulkar commands in this country. Personally, I find that kind of adulation quite reprehensible, but man, this is no way of getting even.
Inline below my response to each of your questions. Just as someone who likes, but does not love Tendulkar, but certainly doesn’t like the tone behind your questions.


1. In 1999-2000, Indian cricket was rocked by the match-fixing scandal. You were a key member of the team that was captained by Mohammed Azharuddin, and Ajay Jadeja was your teammate. But you didn’t say a word. When asked why you remained silent, you said: “The only reason I did not speak about it is that I didn’t know anything about it. I would have given a statement if I knew something.” So are you lying, or are you being a cretin when you say that you had no clue about match-fixing going on?

[] Ok, assume Tendulkar did know something about this. What would you have wanted him to do? Come clean and confess everything to the board and the media? Come out with a grand – I knew about it, but kept quite because of the seniority if the player’s involved? Sure, he could have said that, but what would that have achieved? He may have had doubts, but what if that was all he had? You think he was the only other player in that team? Why single him out for a question like that? Because of the stature that he has now? What about back then when all he had was a desire to play and just do well? And have a career? He should have given all that up to confess what he might have suspected?
And dude, if he is a cretin for thinking about his career, then I’m sure you and I are too. How many times have we witnesses wrongdoings in our immediate neighborhood and kept quite because it would have, in our minds at least, ‘served no purpose’ or do more harm than good? Cretin? Really?

2. The whole world knows that you (and subsequently MS Dhoni) are the reason the BCCI has been stonewalling the ICC’s move to make DRS (Decision Referral System) mandatory in all international fixtures. What exactly do you have against the DRS? Is it that, without technology, the benefit of the doubt (especially on LBWs) goes to the batsman, and you, knowing that there will be far more LBWs with DRS than without, don’t want technology messing with your averages and milestone-hunting?

[] I have a problem with the DRS too, and not because it will affect my own stats, but for the reason that it is, as of now, not a system without glitches.
Sure it helps catch out the LBWs a lot more efficiently, but Hotspot is known to be error-prone, and the Snickometer is not used, so what real value is the DRS adding? DRS is a system that has provided huge advantages to a certain type of bowler. If the umpires wise up and pull up their game, there really is no need for the damn thing anyways. Games have been won and lost on bad decisions before, but they are being won and lost due to Hotspot errors too.
And if Tendulkar has Dhoni’s ears on this, he probably has a lot to say on several issues regarding the team, eh? And according to one of your later questions, he was a bad captain. Does that mean he’s a better captain in proxy??

3. You are richer than anybody can ever want to be. Why then are you forever, and shamelessly, asking or accepting favours from the government? Be it having to change the law (Customs Act) so you don’t have to pay duty on an obscenely expensive luxury vehicle, or petitioning the government to relax the FSI regulations for your bungalow in Bandra, why can’t you just graciously accept the rules that apply to everyone else instead of cashing in on your celebrity status to seek favours?

[] This I have to agree with. But like any person who likes to take advantage of his position, he likes to do things the shorter route. Wouldn’t you use your good offices with the man that counted for a few perks every now and then? I do.

4. For most, nay, all, of your adult life, you have been a very influential person, with access to the highest corridors of power. Yet, not once in your life have you ever taken a stand on any issue — not even on sporting ones. Do you then seriously expect to make a meaningful contribution to any of the debates in the Rajya Sabha? If not, why did you agree to become a Rajya Sabha MP?

[] Again, good point. No logic behind this decision. Tendulkar’s only defense probably is the one most failed celebrity politicians have made (Dara Singh, Amitabh Bachchan) – that they wanted to make a difference, were swayed by the sweet talking politicos that got them to agree, and that it seemed the right thing to do. Also, knowing Sachin (a man with great talents, thought out intelligence not being one of them), someone must have said the magic words – Attendance is not mandatory.

5. And having become a Rajya Sabha MP, you say ‘cricket comes first?!!’ What were you thinking? That being a Member of Parliament is a nice hobby or what?

[]Hehe…refer to earlier response

6. Why is your captaincy record so abysmal? If your cricketing intelligence is so great, and if you are a thorough professional, and if you are a nice guy, how can you not be even an average captain, like, say, Anil Kumble was? You’ve got to have something that the other guys don’t have for you to be such an extraordinarily poor captain. What could this be? You ever think about that?

[]Ouch, painful that. I bet Tendulkar regrets this more than anything else. Its taken him a while but he finally realizes captaincy is not good for his soul. You may consider that selfish, but consider two things – 1. A captain is only as good as his team and 2. A non-performing captain especially one whose form is important to the team, more than his captaincy skills, will not survive, thus relieving him of the captaincy as well as the place in the team. Tendulkar chose his form and career, which is not much different from what several others would do. And in one sense, it is the selfless thing to do. He will never be remembered as a great captain, which is like the epitome of any professional cricketer's career (Shane Warne was the best captain that never was), but at least he contributed in the only way he could.
And what, might I ask, does being a nice guy and thorough professional have to do with being a good captain?? Anil Kumble was a good captain, more than average intelligence(of the cricketing kind too), as was Rahul Dravid. But if your personality is such that it inspires less fear than say a Ganguly does, you cannot succeed at this very difficult task. You either need aggressive forcefulness like Dada or calm, imperturbable, zen-like demeanor like Dhoni.

7. Against Bangladesh in the Asia Cup this year, you crawled to your 100th hundred (114 in 147 balls on a flat track against a bovinely gentle attack) at 4.5 runs an over, and actually slowed down in the slog overs when the team’s interests dictated that you score faster. And it was because of your milestone obsession that we lost the match to Bangladesh, which cost us a place in the final. This is not a one-off incident, but the culminating irony of a long career marked by the relentless deployment of individual talent for individual glory, though last I checked, cricket was a team game. Now that you’ve got every record in the book, will you, at least in the last remaining matches of your career, either stop playing for records, or stop paying lip service to how you are a team player — because it’s too brazenly hypocritical to do both?

[]Tendulkar these days is a shadow of his former self, so that has to be taken into consideration when you talk about his recent form. In the match that you mentioned, he did crawl – but that was needed to get rid of this persistent thorn in the craw – the 100th ton. It was people like you and I that couldn’t stop talking about how long the damn ton seemed to be taking. As he said later, it was as if he hadn’t scored the first 99. An unsaid sentiment seemed to be he wished he hadn’t scored that many. I’d like to see you work under the kind of stress that you and I can only write about, that he’s had to undergo in this mad, mad country. It had been the in thing to joke about this on twitter. You think he hadn't read a couple hundred of those? Actually, you and I contributed to that slow 100. Who’s ‘brazenly hypocritical’ now?

8. Why is it that when the chips are down, and India is chasing, you never (save the Sharjah hundreds way back in 1998 on a flat track) ever take India home? Don’t say, ‘check the records’ — because the records tell me very clearly that you’ve never single-handedly (like Dravid did in Adelaide or Laxman did while batting with a number 11 to take India home against the Aussies) taken India past the finishing line in your 22-plus years of international cricket. And what kills me is that you had the ability to do exactly that — if Yuvraj could, Laxman could, and Dravid could, so could you. But you never did. You just cannot bat for the team under pressure, is that it? Or is it that you never cared for the team as much as you claim to?

[]This is a grouse I’ve had too. Too few of his innings have been in winning games. But then, can we blame all those losses on him? Or should we instead focus on why the others chose to under perform in those instances (so, so many of them). Isn’t it more logical to assume, that when there are match-winning innings played, more often than not, the one heroic innings has overshadowed the poor performance of 3 or 4 other batsmen, including Tendulkar. I haven’t looked at the records, but of the colossal number of runs made, and made against all kinds of opposition all over the world, surely you can find more instances of ‘performance under pressure’ than you would in a standard cricketing career? Tell you what, speak to a friend of mine – Ajay Menon, who I had this discussion with, and failed. Let me know if you want a debate, and I’ll send over his e-mail id.

9. I’ve been pondering this one for ages. How did you become such a boring person — open your mouth and everyone goes to sleep?

[]Jeez, get over yourself. Not everyone is a Shane Warne, or presumably R Sampath. You obviously are the smart witty one that regales the room in every room you find an audience in. Being a boring guy myself, I say to you – good for you. You guys need us to be the listeners, don’t ya? Lappin' up all those smarties you keep puking out?

10. This is an easy one. Do you like journalists who suck up to you?

[]Sure he does. And he might not like you. But then you’ve called him a cretin, selfish, blatantly hypocritical, and boring. And now you want the love??

The Unkind End - and an Uncertain Future

This one was tough to take, like one of those pills that don't go down easy - big, smelly, nasty...only this one was jagged at the edges, and seemed to swell up on the way down. 

Disappointment was something I was expecting to feel at the beginning of this last day of the English Premier League season. In fact, last week had all but placed the title plonk in the middle of Roberto Mancini's laps. All that talk about choking in the season run-in was sounding hollow, especially after Manchester City's assured wins in the derby and then against a potentially applecart-toppling Newcastle. Sure, City's opponents on the last day, QPR had Mark Hughes, a motivation to stay up, and Anton Ferdinand supposedly liked his brother enough to at least try and lock City out for 90 minutes. They had also beaten Arsenal and Liverpool recently. But they also had a very inconsistent team that has struggled to find a stretch of good form and an uncertain structure, not benefited by the statistic of having lost a major majority of their away games this season. On the other side of the coin, United had the advantage over Sunderland, but the Stadium of Light was not historically the best place to end the season for United, especially in such a tight nose-to-the-line finish as this. Besides, even a win was not going to close the 8 goal gap that separate the two Mancunian teams. And that, in the end, was what killed it off for United.

So, I was prepared for the loss of the title, as were many this day. What little hope there was left, was kicked nearer the dustbin when City scored their first goal at the Etihad. Rooney's goal earlier at Sunderland counted for little. Not unless they scored another 8. I had already switched channels to Sony, where the movie 'Ek Main Aur Ek Tu' provided a handy distraction. Then the second half happened.

A message on my phone from Ajay, my fellow United sufferer, alerted me to the fact that the hopes had taken a nosedive. When I switched over to ESPN to see what that meant, the half time whistle had blown. A few minuted later, on the periodic channel flip, the scores had changed. Rangers had equalised. I promptly messaged back - "Keep the faith", scarcely having the courage to have any myself. The situation at the Stadium of Light had also gained significance. As the scores stood, United had the title, but the advantage was slender. Imran Khan and Kareena Kapoor were forgotten. The feeling of resignation that had found a resting place at the bottom of the tummy had been roused, and was turning into a small ball of hope. I watched with chagrin and immense irritation as United threw away chances, and allowed Sunderland to come too close for any kind of comfort. Then a roar, unrelated to the state of the match I was watching, emanated from the crowd. this could only be the United set of fans who had half an eye on the match below, and everything else tuned into the commentary of the match at their neighbour's arena. I switched to ESPN, and almost split into two from the scream that I didn't know how to expel. QPR, down to 10 men had scored again! And 20 minutes remained.

The clock in the corner of my TV screen had never moved slower. The heart raced as United struggled to hold on to their lead. I couldn't bear to switch over to the other channel. The Rangers goal must surely be under enormous strain now. But they were holding, all 10 of them. The three minutes of injury time at the United game went by without major incident. Fergie waved his watch at the fourth official, no doubt wishing he could have done the same at an entirely different venue. Their match was over, but not before City had equalised. My brother muttered something about City's annoying habit of scoring from set pieces, and I nodded absently. The ball of hope had stopped floating, and was now beginning to settle with sickening speed. And with the final move of the match, Sergio Aguero skipped around a flailing defender and smacked the ball past the brave QPR goalkeeper.

And then there was silence. Not in my house - my wife and brother made anguished noises, and I flopped back into the sofa that I was only minutes earlier bouncing on- not on TV -the Etihad had 'gone wild' as they say. But for me that moment seemed to have gone into those sound-free zones where everything  moved but nothing made sense. Why, o why, had they not scored this goal 10 minutes ago?  Why did they have to wait till injury time to score 2 goals? Why did the result have to remain suspended till the last minute, and then bring everything to such sickening, soul-wrenching, crashing end?? I now cursed QPR for having played so well for 90 minutes of the match, for having scored those 2 goals. I cursed Joey Barton, and today ranted at him on twitter, calling him names I'm sure he hasn't heard before but instinctively knows he doesn't like. I cursed Man City for not finding the goals till the absolute last minute. I also cursed the players that caused the 5 minute injury time, whichever team they were playing on, and if someone had been injured during those minutes that the game was suspended for, I cursed them too. Stretchered off, you say?? hah, screw that, I curse you too!!

The day after, I feel no lesser pain. I couldn't sleep last night till very late, so am very cranky as I write this. I announced on my twitter handle and on my BBM status that I was on indefinite mourning till further notice. And I realise this is probably how all those famous teams on the receiving end of these injury-time reversals of fortune must feel. United has been on the right end of these upheavals, and are in fact famous for scoring and winning late. I never gave more than a passing thought about those legions of fans that were devastated on the other side. Bayern, Chelsea, Aston Villa, Liverpool...to name a few. Today, to all these fans, wherever they are, and whatever their present state of mind, I extend a sympathetic hand to shake, and a shoulder to share. No one deserves this. Especially not the fan that invests so much emotionally.

I will eventually recover from this funk, much as I did two years ago when Chelsea won the title by a point on the final day. But the emotions that ran then were different. Chelsea won their match in resounding fashion (8-0), leaving no scope for a nail-biter. United also won their match more convincingly than they did yesterday, though they scored only half the number of goals that Chelsea did that day. So while the Blues snuffed out the embers of hope earlier that day, the noisy neighbours did their best to kick them back into a briefly lit fire, only for them to douse it quickly and painfully with a deluge of icy water.

This too shall pass, and I now await the new season, though with less anticipation and more apprehension. While I do not give too much credence to the claims that the balance of power has shifted towards the 'lesser' Manchester team (cmon, the only thing that separated the teams this year were the fewer goals conceded by City - the best in league by the way), I do accept that United got away with some pretty ordinary football this season. The start of the season opened with much promise fueled by the exemplary start from the likes of Young, Jones, Smalling, Welbeck and Cleverley. The Community shield game, something that United will not feature in this August, was won with much aplomb and people were hailing the new young team of the future. My friend Anup said that Fergie had managed to do what Wenger had spent years trying to do - assemble a group of home-bred young talent that would form the core of future teams - only successfully. The young 'uns were already delivering the first installments of their potential. As the season wore on though, reality struck. Young, Jones and Smalling discovered, or rather revealed, flaws in their game, while Cleverley and Anderson were out most of the season through repeated injuries, compounding the problems that Fergie had as early as last season in the center of midfield, and worsened with the illness to Fletcher, and the loss of form for the workhorse Park Ji Sung. 

Then, after the first stutter at Stoke, came the game that shall always be referred to as the 'the beating that shall not be named'. The 6-1 scoreline may not have done United justice, but everyone felt they were due a rude awakening. Things floundered after that. Losses to a resurgent Newcastle and inexplicably to Blackburn at home made subsequent 1-0 victories seem like resounding triumphs. Fergie, relieved that United were coming away with anything at that stage, said we were due a few 1-0 victories. United kept the title in sight, not letting the effervescence of the City wave overwhelm them. 8 points was the most the distance between the clubs ever got to, and that started whittling down when City, inevitably, started to show signs of stress and fatigue. Mancini has used the smallest group of players amongst the top clubs, whether out of lack of trust with the fringe players, or out of compulsion (the Tevez situation could not have helped). The juggernaut slowed, then sputtered, and the run-in saw United steal the lead. With four matches to go, they even opened out a 8 point lead of their own. Then Wigan whipped them into submission, and in what I consider the game that lost United the title, Everton slipped in two late goals past the worst defensive displays United have put on this season to take two eventually valuable points off United. This was when I knew that my fears at the start of the season were not unfounded. City were relative newbies to the top of the pyramid, and a lot was being said about how this might not be the season they achieved the pinnacle in English football. I concurred, right up to the point that Sergio Aguero was signed on. That for me tilted the scales in City's favour, but I still retained the hope that Fergie's experience over the long haul of a season would perhaps make the difference. City definitely had the better pedigree of players (that midfield pairing of Silva and Toure is to die for), but over the season, they seemed to have fewer alternatives for critical areas. City used 4 to 5 players less than United, but still managed to score more (marginally), concede less, and win the same number of matches as United. This is partially due to the relatively small bank of reserves City has, something that Mancini has regularly complained about, as also to do with the fact that he has had to contend with fewer injury problems to his mainstays than United.

The new season will bring fresh challenges to both teams - City now have a Champion tag to contend with, and even though Mancini managed to bind his team together with some innovatively negative press talk that enabled a final push in the closing stages of the season, he will face issues from the dressing room that he will need to address. He does not command the respect (fear?) that United have for Fergie - despite what you hear from Pogba - and there are mutterings about his style of management that have been temporarily submerged by this post-title feelgood. Mancini will find, sometime in the next season perhaps, that when things start going downhill, these nigglers will emerge from the woodwork with increased vigour. How he handles these will be the proof of his mettle.

United of course return to the same set of problems that they were staring at pre-season. Center of midfield remains a problem, defence is not as assured with Vidic absent - the newbies have far too many flaws and its too early in their career anyways for United to rely on them wholesale. Offensively too, United may need to look around. Berbatov is gone, Owen will go, and Hernandez is too much of a poacher and an opportunist to consider as a permanent fixture in the starting 11. Welbeck and Rooney need further support, someone like a Edin Hazard or a Sergio Aguero, someone that makes the play rather than reacting to it. De Gea looks a lot more assured than he did at the start of the season, and if he beefs up a little, both physically and mentally should become as good as Joe Hart is now. (Said Hart is about 30% of City's credentials in my opinion.) However, looking at De Gea does not really inspire confidence right now, and you wish for an able heir to the legacy of Schmeichel and Van de Saar. So, a lot of things to think about for Fergie, and he should, and I say should, have a longish shopping list to take to the Glazers. And we all know how that is going to go.

My wishlist for Fergie only contains one item - that he wins some good players this summer. Shinji Kagawa from Dortmund and Edin Hazard from Lille would be dream acquisitions. What he will end up with I don't know, but without some major changes in the team structure and composition, they will struggle, perhaps even lose out on the title race. If the funds are not released, and if players are too impatient to wait for decent offers from United, I see myself at the same place I was at the start of this season. With my fingers and toes crossed. I will still be wearing the red on matchday, but with more prayers on my lips than cheer in my heart.

Good Bye Rahul

The writing on the wall finally came true. Rahul Dravid, long serving servant of Indian cricket has hung up his gloves from the final version of the game - the version he was best at, the version that he will always be remembered for. Test match cricket will be the poorer for the loss of one of its stalwarts, a man whose influence of the game was never appreciated to the fullest. Hopefully now, when India totters at 6 for 1 after an injudicious shot from Sehwag, the impact of Dravid will hit home, simply through his absence.

The decision couldn't have been easy for him. On the one hand, he would have the desire to go out more gracefully than he has. His last Test series was one he would like to forget, and that is hardly the most romantic or ideal way to go. And yet, on the other hand, he had to have wondered if he was in any way motivated to carry on, to iron out the technical fault that had crept into his batting, to grind out yet another match-, or at least face-saving innings, to prove - again - that his resilience and courage made him the most valuable asset of an ungrateful team. Not that he thought they were without gratitude. In his press conference earlier today, Dravid had only good things to say of his team. But somewhere deep in the annals of that mind, there must have been the thought that his determination to give the best was not matched by his team mates over the years..

Be that as it may, the grace and dignity with which Dravid conducted the final rites of his glittering career is but an replication of his entire innings. Never in danger of being listed among the "best batsmen in the world", Dravid went about his job quietly, amassing runs by the buckets, ignoring jibes about the speed with which he made his runs, and shrugging off sycophantic praise whenever that came his way. The only opinions that would have mattered were his teammates, and his opponents. And he's faced a litany of the latter, earning their respect and can I say fear. Many an opponent would praise Sachin and his brilliance, but secretly Dravid's was the wicket they craved. Simply because he put such a premium on it himself, you couldn't prise it away with all the tools in the world.

But that was not all that Dravid was about. He was one of the Fabulous Four, the strength of the Indian team at a time when the Indian batting was universally acknowledged to be the best, not only of the time, but possible of all time. Any yet, batting was not the only thing that brought Dravid the name. He was not the most athletic of fielders, or runners, but yet he has held the most number of catches. He was not a full-time wicketkeeper in his younger days, but he kept wickets for 73 ODIs. He was not the most aggressive of captains, but he was certainly the most intelligent ones, and if his desire to keep feathers unruffled in the team were not so intense, he might well have made the best captain India had ever seen. As it stood, the fickle dynamics of being an Indian team skipper would have tasted too sour, even for someone who always put team ahead of personal glory.

Then there was the question of demeanor. On field, bowling at him was like running full tilt into the kind of wall that would crush your spirit, delivery upon painful delivery. The forward defense that earned him his career nickname was at most times impenetrable, but as Dravid himself acquiesced, more a testament to his powers of focus more than application of technique. Bowlers would try it all. Swing, movement, bouncers, intimidation, glaring contests, verbal abuse, taunts - the lot. There was never a reaction, other than the occasional blank, stone-faced stare back. He fielded in slips most of his career, but there was never a moment that an opposing batsman would find issue with. There was applause for a great shot, congratulations on a milestone reached, the perfect gentleman in what was the original Gentleman's game. Off the field, none had a bad word for him. Humility and grace were synonyms for Rahul Dravid. The Nicest Guy in the Game brought respect and credit not only to himself, but also the rest of the team.

Since this morning, I have read several articles bidding farewell to the man. Several sobriquets have been showered, several odes dedicated. At the end of 16 years of a full career, you would not be faulted for expecting that. Three of these articles were very personal, emotional pieces from people most affected by the retirement. Each gave specific reasons, a particular moment that they remembered and had influenced their opinions, or even their whole concept of cricket. I can't say that there is one innings that I will hold for ever in my head. For a man I have followed and been a fan of since his leading the Under 19 team to a World Cup win, I should probably have that 'defining moment' that should justify the sadness I feel today, the day he officially declared himself done with cricket - as a player at least. But I don't. For me, every innings Rahul played was one I cherished. It was like watching a close friend or family member perform. I rooted for him to succeed, I despaired when he was dismissed, I rejoiced when he reached a milestone, I raged when he was dropped from the one day team, I nodded when he gave up the captaincy, not because it was the right thing to do, but because I felt that it was the right thing for him. I danced with him when he did that jig across the Adelaide pitch on that rare win in Australia. I cringed when I saw him run after a ball with those strange loping strides, when he dropped a sitter in slips, when he tried to hit the ball out of the park in an IPL game. One of the article writers that seemed crushed by Rahul's retirement said that he was the reasons she got interested in the game. I know the feeling. I stopped following the NBA after Jordan left the game. Personalities make the sport interesting, and that has been true for most sports. I don't know if I will stop watching cricket because Dravid is no longer there to follow. But yes, the soul has been removed. For now.

Down Under again

This needed to be written a few weeks ago, when the Indian team was tying their bootlaces, in batches, in preparation of the journey to fair Australia. With all the tension and hype that usually surrounds a tour Down Under, channels playing up the controversies of the past, commentators turning into media personalities with opinions that mattered to god-knows-who, images of Ponting growling, and an ironically missing Shane Watson sniggering "It's hot in Australia" were all over the sports channels. The first Test is on now, with Day 3 just out of the way, so some of my upcoming comments will appear less of a prediction and more of a I told you so. Be that as it may, I can say that my views have not changed much since a couple of weeks ago, and those thoughts are what I am going to try and express.

Things have changed since the last tour down under. The acrimonious 2008 tour was between 2 Test teams at the pinnacle of Test cricket, competing for the World no 1 tag. If that gave the skirmishes on and off field that extra bite, then this time around, despite all the media attempts to raise the level of hoopla, the stakes are lower. At least on paper. Australia is a team in the nascent stages of a revival, with several question marks hanging over its batting order, its young pace attack, and the qualities of the new skipper. India is still to emerge from the shadows of the hut they crept into after the horrific beating they received in England, just after the euphoria of the World Cup win. Only a seriously deluded individual would point at recent triumphs against England(one-day) and the West Indies(Test and one-day) as anything more than expected results. Losses in these series would have meant catastrophe in every sense of that word.

So both teams have something to prove, and are also not that high in the pecking order to believe that the rest of the world is in stop-press mode to watch this series. That said, there's no reason why we should not look forward to it, simply because this is Test cricket being played by two very good sides. Batting travails notwithstanding, Australia has a lot going for it, and despite the recent Test loss to New Zealand at home, they have every chance of keeping the Border-Gavaskar trophy within the confines of the CA office.

On with the predictions then. Well, what the final result in terms of score will be I will not hazard to guess. In terms of the result, I fear that Australia will retain the trophy, either by winning the series, or by sharing honours with India. the reasons are not very different from my prognosis of the World Cup fortunes of the Indian team. And yes, I know I had to eat my words back then, but there are some critical game changers that need considering.

1. This is not a home series - The last overseas trip saw the Indians return home without a single win, and traditionally Australia has never been kind to Indian cricketers. While several commentators have picked this as the best opportunity for a first ever triumph down under, they seem to be blind to the frailties of the Indian team.
2. Mystery bowlers - on paper, when the original team was announced, I exulted at what I saw as potentially the best attack I had seen in an Indian team. Zaheer is one of the top 5 bowlers in the world today when fit, Ishant has the potential to follow in his footsteps despite an indifferent series in England, and later; Young tearaways Umesh Yadav and Varun Aaron were as fast as the paciest in the world, and had aspects to the game that induced salivation in those who had been fed on a diet of prasads, prabhakars and praveen kumars for as long as they could remember. The spin troika had me so excited I went crazy on twitter one day. variety, guile, and great promise. All it seemingly needs to achieve greatness was encouragement and as Michael Clarke put it in reference to the young Ed Cummings 'looking after'. But that picture was soiled a bit, first when Aaron had to pull out with injury, joining Praveen Kumar and Sreesanth on the sidelines, then as Ishant Sharma bowled 5 and a half overs in a warm-up game and seemed to be nursing his ankle. With Zak on the comeback trail, the signs were ominous. I have little confidence in Mithun and Vinay Kumar and hope they stay on the bench for the Test series at least. Not that they aren't good bowlers, but because they may not be the kind of bowlers suited to this environment. Luckily enough both Ishant and Zak started the first test, but clearly both are just finding their rhythms and I fear that will cost us the first Test. Ishant is bowling well, but it seems like he's holding back just a touch, as if afraid of straining pulling or stretching something. and he's not had the best of luck either, bring to mind the sad old story of Javagal Srinath, who would toil all day, beat all kinds of batsmen and have didley-squat to show for it.
3. Brittle batting - this is a age-old, era-old problem and doesn't need explanation. Darren Sammy recently said, the Indian batsmen just keep coming at you, so you can never say you are safe if a bunch of wickets fall together. That is undoubtedly true, but there are times that all these feared bats collapse in a heap, as we say this morning when we lost 8 wickets for 68. The most exciting batting line-up in the world is also frail, and susceptible to applied pressure. And in a reversal of fortunes, we find the in-form Rohit Sharma having to watch from the sidelines, preference naturally going to the consistent Virat Kohli. Ian Chappell did have a case when he pitched for the inclusion of the more talented and equipped Sharma, but it would have been unfair to young Kohli, especially since he's shown no perceptible dip in form. The difference may be in temperament though. Sharma is as dogged as he is swash-buckling, and perhaps that makes a case for his inclusion in the next Test. And who knows, Kohli might churn out a match-making innings the second time around. Tomorrow, quite literally is a different day (By the time this is published, India would be preparing to chase down 250 in the fourth innings to win the match.)
4. The little battles - at the end of the day, this series might well be decided by virtue of which side wins the most number of sessions, or even actions. The odd stolen run, the odd half-chance caught, the odd run save, the urgency of the running. Sehwag might well hit more boundaries than the rest of the players combined, but the type of running between wickets that Ponting and Hussey put on display today might well make the difference between winning and losing. From 27 for 4 to 179 for 8, mostly through aggressive running and stroke making is the type of cricket for which the Australians have always been revered. Its why we might bowl better than them, but still not win. Its why the Aussie selectors retain faith in the old guard even when the deafening clamour is for the scalps of two of the finest batsmen in their history.

So it will be close, close enough for this to be a tight series, but despite the depleted strength of the hosts, I believe there is enough there to squeeze past the indians. And God forbid, should the second innings batting collapse be worse than our collective imagination, or should one of Zak or Ishant break down, the psychological advantage will be enough to firmly tilt the scales towards the Aussies.

Sweet, Sweet Humble Pie

It is done!. The World Cup has been won. There are several experts around the world (along with a few bookies in England) who are looking at detractors and smirking away their "I told you so"s. Yours truly was one that did not believe. And did not believe till 38 for 2 in the final. What happened after that however did not just shake me by the scruff of the neck, but also finally drove home a conviction that deep down, I have always had. This is what the Indian team was always capable of.

This is not my way of squirming out of the hole I dug myself into when I wrote my previous two-part blog. This is also not my endeavour to find an elegant way out of my thoroughly flawed predictions. I accept censure. You know those 'detractors' that Ravi Shastri said would shut up after the final? Well, I am one of them, and have no qualms accepting that. This victory is so sweet it makes every bit of thrown back shit sweeter. So, we are in the position (a weird but welcome situation) of asking what went right. Quite a few things actually. People have attributed this historical achievement to things like peaking on time, an uber-cool captain, a resurgent Yuvraj, a determined Tendulkar, and the batting order delivering on its promise. My premise is to look at it from the point of view of my earlier blogs. The things that could have gone horribly wrong didn't.

1. The opening triumvirate worked. Sachin, Sehwag and Gambhir all played crucial roles in different games. Sachin seemed like a man on a mission, which he probably was, and the other seemed to just keep him as a focal point to help inspire them through every game. Sehwag opened with a high scoring ton in the opening game, and then played small but critical parts in other matches. His demolition job of Umar Gul will remain one of the unsung causes of the semi final victory, if ever an analysis is done on the game by the Pak officials. Gambhir was not in the best of touch throughout and often had to make his own luck, but he stuck around most times, and grafted a splendid 97 when it mattered most.

2. The shaky middle order - the worst thing that could have happened was Yuvraj hitting a trough instead of the peak that he found himself on instead. It wasn't all plain sailing in the beginning. Misfields and horrible running peppered his early innings, and though he kept winning MOMs, I wasn't convinced till the Quarters. By then, it was clear that this was another determined individual, who had decided that form is not automatic, and talent alone would take him nowhere. The result was a visibly alert, aware performance which also fed off the success in the bowling department. A brief blip in the semis caused a flutter, but nothing put all doubts to rest like that super stop in the field in the final, when the Indian fielding was incredibly even better than the Lankans'. The dive was eager, resolute, and not showy as it has been in the past. If this is the new resurgent Yuvraj that we will continue to see after this success, then Indian cricket is on the good path. Kohli's position in the order kept changing, due to the captain's lack of conviction about his own place in the order, and that disturbed the lad's equilibrium a little. There was enough for the young Kohli to do though, especially in the final when he helped bring stability to the innings before Dhoni took it home. Raina also found some form with the bat, and though Pathan could never re create his Bangla bash, he is a weapon one should be proud of having in reserve.

3. The skipper - The man with the golden touch continues to flourish, but I may never doubt his decisions again. I still feel his floating around the order should be more controlled, and some of his decisions still rankle. Preferring Chawla over Ashwin and bringing in Sreesanth in the final could well have been decisions he would regret and would be vilified for if India had not won. He even admitted this in the post match interview. What all will appreciate however is his openness about this and the humble acceptance of what must seem to him and most now, a very desirable turn of fortune. Luck had nothing to do with his spectacular shepherding of the run case in the final though. That was an innings as good as I have ever seen, one that means more for the one day game of 50 overs than anything else. Any student of the game will know what a great advertisement that innings was.

4. The weak bowling - is still weak, but was able to restrict teams to manageable totals when it mattered. Australia and Sri Lanka both struggled to safe-ish targets, and after England, none could cross even 280 against the beleaguered and blunt attack. Zaheer strove manfully and had at least 6 great overs in every match, Ashwin was great when he got the chance, Munaf cleaned up his act towards the end, and Nehra played a vital role in the semis in strangulating the Pakistanis in their chase. Harbhajan didn't get too many wickets, and I still think he needs to be dropped for a few matches to allow him to circumspect and go back to the basics maybe, but he did keep the runs down most times. Sreesanth may have played his last match for India(at least for a while), but that depends on whether Dhoni will let go of his lucky mascot. The man has been in Dhoni's 11 in almost all of his triumphs and the skipper might not want to let him go that easy.

All in all, what seemed to have mattered most was the team's determination not to give up. It appears that Sachin Tendulkar gave them something to aim at and they all played out of their skins to win him his first Cup in what must certainly be his last. That determination was seen in each dogged fight that every game became. None of India's matches, except perhaps the Holland one, were spectacularly easy wins. Every performance was workman like, stripped bare of style, but heavy on substance. There were flashes of brilliance, but also plain ugly performances(the great master's innings against Pak being a glaring example) as well. There was a lot of sweat, huffing and puffing, but never did it seem like the team wasn't trying. Even when the chips were down, which was almost in every match, the boys held on, scrambling furiously to stay afloat, then grabbing viciously at the first opportunity, and finishing in style after that. It was the kind of performance that makes me proud to be Indian, at a time when not much else does.

So with the World Cup won, one hope the players get what they deserve - some time off with the family. All the other condiments and side shows are irrelevant. What is a crore worth when you can't spend it with the people you care, love, and are the reason you are?

Seems to be a lost cause though. The circus is only getting started. Read from the link below, and commiserate for our brave young men...and their dear ones.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/oliverbrett/2011/04/indias_turn_to_dominate_cricke.html