It started with Kallis I think. I was in total awe of him.
His game was pleasing to the eye. His stroke making was exquisite his patience
infinite. But we had Rahul Dravid in the same mold. Yet, for some reason
somewhere in my early teens I became a South African fan. Maybe, it had
something to do with their tragic losses.
It has been more than a decade since. And yet I am still
waiting for my favorite team to be holding an ICC trophy. Each tournament, I am
left to fight for my team as my friends chide me and make fun of my team’s
apparent choking habits. But today, in whole of the cricketing village barring
NZ, there was a sense of gloom. No one takes the credit of win away from NZ, a
side filled with such nice gentleman, yet unless the heart is plain cold, there
was a lump in everyone’s throat when that ordinary delivery from an extra
ordinary bowler was deposited over long on. Cricket is a funny game. You always
dream of such games and yet when one comes along, the pumping of adrenaline is
accompanied by a tight knot in the stomach.
SA did lose. From the minute they came back from the
rain interval SA’s were up against it. They would have been looking for 370 in
50 (maybe 400 if Superman had his day). They got 298 in 43. Their frontline
bowler was off today. They had chosen the wrong third fast bowlers. They
dropped catches. They missed run-outs. And yet, in those 43 overs, I was able
to find one answer. The next time someone asks me why SA, I will have an
answer.
This is a team that plays sports in good faith. Along with
NZ, they proved a point. Sledging is not a part of the game as the arrogant
Aussies so often like to portray. A game can be won on the basis of pure skill
and talent. And even the bitterest of pills can be swallowed with humility and
acceptance. Australia and England, are you listening?
AB came to the post match press conference. He refused to
blame the rain when I and many others will hold it responsible. This is a man
captaining a team that has been haunted by the ghost of rain and D/L since the
time I was born. Yet, he acknowledged the ultimately fatal rainfall as his own
responsibility. He was asked about the missed chances. He only talked about
what he missed, the crucial run out of Anderson. No blames were placed. No
names were taken. You could see the disappointment written on his face. You
could see the contorting face trying to prevent the leakage from the eyes.
Faf du Plessis, arguably the second best fielder of the
team, was diving about as if his life depended on it. No, this is not a
metaphor. He actually fielded as if it was a matter of life and death. In the
second last over he dived for that catch when it was impossible for him to
reach. He fielded at midwicket and with his dives, tried to act as a proxy mid-on.
Not only him, the whole side was diving around, trying to save that one run
that may prove to be the difference in the two teams. Fielding at short fine
leg, Morne Morkel, not the best among the group, slipped and fell, yet he did
not let the ball go past him. Never mind the fact that he was to bowl the next
over and any serious injury could have hampered SA’s chances severely.
Pragmatism, so often the key words for a fielding fast bowler, had been left in
the dressing room by this world cup hungry team.
Oh, the fast bowlers of SA. Starting from Allan Donald and
Shaun Pollock, passed on to Ntini and now carried on the broad shoulders of
Morkel and Steyn, this legacy of SA will have its name etched in gold on the
portrait of South African cricket. They are not like the abusing and sledging
species that come from Australia. Nor are they like the pseudo skilled craftsman
from England. They are simply passionate, hungry and intense. Steyn comes
in and delivers spells in excess of 10 overs, each bowl delivered with a
careful mix of venomous pace and startling accuracy. When he has batsman at his
mercy, he does not sledge. He looks the batsman in the eye. Stares. And then
walks away. He is more in the Ambrose category than in McGrath’s. And somehow, I
have always liked the former. When he takes a wicket, he celebrates. It is not
an over the top celebration like Tahir’s. But his eyes convey the message.
Today, he had an off day. Which meant that the burden fell
on the perennially under appreciated Morne Morkel. For years, my brother convinced me
about the understated importance of being Morne. He does not average 4 wickets
a test. But if it were not for him even Steyn would also have struggled to get
4 in a match. Luck wise he is the Ishant Sharma of South African test cricket. Despite
having 317 wickets in 62 tests and a 169 in 99 ODIs, you feel he should have
had more. Tells you a lot about this giant. Today, he was immaculate. When
Steyn failed against Baz, he delivered. Then, he got the best batsman of their
side. He was asked to come on when Steyn walked off the pitch close to the 20th
over. And then again, asked to bowl in the last overs. Each time he outdid his
previous performance. Morne’s wicket celebration are marked by a single hand
raise and an effervescent smile. But that hides the steel within. He showed all
of it today during the fascinating 39th over of the innings. Bowling
to Anderson, holder of the record of the fastest century till a few months back,
who was sitting pretty on 50+ and looking to smash the ball out of the park, he
bowled an over to which the batsman had no answer. Indeed, he hardly allowed Anderson
to touch the ball. And before finishing, had him back in the hut. It takes a
special effort to bowl this kind of over knowing fully well that there is a
better chance of losing than winning. That effort flowed out on to the grass a
few minutes later when the last ball was bowled. Of all the tears that were shed on the ground, his cut the hardest.
This South African team is full of some extra-ordinary
individuals. They raised the game to a new level today.
AB, do not worry, your countrymen and everyone around is
immensely proud of your team.
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