By Ameya Lonkar
The
Christmas vacations had been utterly boring. I had nothing to do; of course
there were errands to run but nothing fun. I was so bored that I even
voluntarily started arranging the utensils. On a particularly weary afternoon I turned on
the television and started mindlessly sweeping through channels; till then I
had completely forgotten about a certain Star Cricket channel. Now much to my
joy, there it was, a live match!!!! Who gives a damn which teams were playing;
it was a friggin’ cricket match. It was a Big Bash League match played between two
teams whose names I don’t remember.
I
put the remote aside and started watching the match. The match itself does not
matter to me now, and I ain’t going to talk it. I was overjoyed to see the King
of Spin, the great Shane Warne operating. The commentators had just pulled out
a stat, the XYZ stadium where the match was being played had recorded its
highest attendance in the ongoing match and that may well be due to Shane Warne
agreeing to play the match. Man this guy is a real crowd puller. The match was
going on but I kept waiting for the Wizard of Oz’s over. My wait finally came
to an end somewhere near the 11th over of the innings.
Shane
Warne had ball in his hands. He had a mic on him and was chatting with the
commentators upstairs. So whatever he was saying could be heard on television.
That was a rare opportunity; you don’t know much what the bowlers are planning
unless you are hopelessly good at lip reading or if the stump mic catches a
word or two. But here he was live on the mic walking the commentators through
his tactics. Before the first ball was bowled I saw how meticulously he was
setting the fields, moving around the fielders so that they were just in the
places he wanted them to be, covering for all angles he was working on. Just
before the first ball was bowled the commentators upstairs asked him “Warney,
how are ya feeling?” He replied “Don’t know I’ll let you know after the first
one”. After the first ball he replied “I think I am good to go”.
It was then I
thought I could be in for a real treat here. Now I can say that it was truly a
treat. Though it was not the foot long turning of the ball or his endless bag
of tricks but what was on display was the sheer class of the great man and his
experience. At forty years of age no one expects him to turn the ball squarely
as he used to do in his heydays, even he was aware of the limitations. Though
the turn was missing the guile was still there. Frequently he tossed the ball
up above the eye line of the batsman tempting him to go after his bowling lest
he should mistime it and holes it out in the deep or misses the ball and leaves
the clean-up job up to the keeper. The Wily Old Fox still had the thinking cap
on. Though not as pronounced he was mixing up his subtle variations and was
relying mainly on the variations in his speed. What was even more pleasing to
see was the respect he commanded from the batsman. Though he wasn’t “The Shane
Warne” he used to be seeing the batsmen playing his balls with respect was a
treat to eye.
The
most apt instance to show the class of the Great One was a particular streak of
four balls in one of his overs in the match. Ball one he spoke into mic that he
would toss the ball, toss the ball he did. The next one was a bit flatter one.
Again he prompted that he would toss the ball up. He did exactly that. Maybe he
had gauged the batsman by then, spun a web safely around him only to devour him
on his next move. He said he would pitch the ball further, he had the ball in
his hand, strolling towards the crease, with the tongue sweeping across his
lips, his eyes firmly set on batsman trying to gauge his move and with an the
ever so casual action he delivered the ball. The ball was travelling through
the air, the batsman got his feet moving, the batsman has walked across his
stumps only to discover the ball has been pitched a fraction fuller, the
batsman makes a futile attempt at sweeping the ball. The ball lands on leg
stump line turns and hits the top of off stump. The batsman had been foxed, the
prey slain, the Wily Fox delivering yet another master class. The stadium is up
in celebration, all the team mates gathering around Warney, giving a pat on the
back and surely having goose bumps on the back of their necks to bask in the
aura of the true champion.
The wicket that he took was the only one in the
match. He returned with figures of 1 for 19 (not entirely sure, but something
of that sorts). Though this is not the best of his performances I just wanted
to put forth the fact that despite the tired fingers, despite the absence of
those spinning cobras, despite the match being a T20 game (the format touted
for the youth) despite everything, Shane Warne was delivering the goods for his
team solely on his experience. It gets interesting to see veterans operate when
they are past their best, when they have exhausted a good portion of their
abilities all that remains with them is the distilled product of their vast experience.
After seeing the performance I say it was a pleasure watching you bowl Mr.
Warne as it always had been for all these years and I hope to see more of you
in future.
