What kind of man is this innocent assassin who has elevated batting, and thinking, to a level of such simplicity? The story that captures him best has been told often enough, but it bears repetition here. England batsman Jeremy Snape pointed out in a match where they were batting together that he was having a problem with the reverse swing. Perhaps it was the ball that was aiding it? Don’t worry, Sehwag told him, I will hit this ball out of the stadium and then they will have to find another ball. And he proceeded to do exactly that. The replacement didn’t swing as much.
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Best Tactic To Handle Reverse Swing --- The Sehwag Way!
Batsmen like Sehwag are rewriting the rules of cricket. I particularly liked this anecdote in an article on Sehwag in this week's issue of Tehelka.
Friday, 11 December 2009
Extravagance Personified!
Perhaps, "extravagance," too, would be an understatement to describe this wedding described in this week's issue of Tehelka.
What a SHEER WASTE of money! In our country, we have thousands and thousands of people who find it difficult to make ends meet; we have farmers who commit suicide because they cannot bear to see the misery of their families anymore; and we have bright children who end up working in inhuman conditions instead of studying because they won't get food if they don't work.
And whatever happened to the recession?
Wish all such people who have loads of money find loads of good avenues to spend on rather than waste away on extravagant weddings.
ON THE NIGHT of November 22 , some 5,000 people, among them the exquisitely dressed and elegantly propelled Ludhianvi elite, attended realtor king Gulshan Kumar’s son’s prewedding ceremony. Opulence was not restricted to the BMW-Mercedes-filled parking lot. It continued past the impressive Sphinx statue guarding the entrance, past actor Bipasha Basu welcoming the guests into a six acre plot converted by 60 artisans from around the country into a replica of the sets of the movie The Mummy. Blessing the Ludhianvi Tutankhamun’s wedding amidst roving laser light glory were 500 life-size statues of Cleopatra, Nefertiti and the Egyptian pantheon of gods, all made-to-order with Hollywood assistance. When asked how much he spent on the wedding Gulshan Kumar, said ‘peanuts’. Those ‘peanuts’ also brought the IT department knocking on his doors.
What a SHEER WASTE of money! In our country, we have thousands and thousands of people who find it difficult to make ends meet; we have farmers who commit suicide because they cannot bear to see the misery of their families anymore; and we have bright children who end up working in inhuman conditions instead of studying because they won't get food if they don't work.
And whatever happened to the recession?
Wish all such people who have loads of money find loads of good avenues to spend on rather than waste away on extravagant weddings.
Thursday, 3 December 2009
The Genius Of Sir Don!
Its often been said that it's a privilege to live in a generation that has seen an absolute genius such as Sachin Tendulkar. What must it have been like to see Sir Don in action?
I really liked this anecdote posted on cricinfo.com:
A fanciful story from Michael Henderson on Don. Absolute Gem . "I think I have a beauty. It was told to me by the great Australian batsman, Dean Jones, who positively swore on the head of his daughter it happened, and I have since been told that Merv Hughes also confirms its truth.
The scene is set at a Test match between Australia and the West Indies at Adelaide Oval back in February 1989. These were the days when the Windies were the greatest power the cricketing world had ever seen, the days when they used to select 11 fast bowlers in the team and a 12th man who was a fast bowler just to be on the safe side.
And it was into just such a furnace that the young bowler Mervyn Hughes walked - with bat in hand. Figuring fortune favoured the brave, Hughes wielded the willow like an axeman his axe, and somehow - after snicking fortutiously, connecting full-bloodedly, and missing entirely - he finished the day's play at 72 not out.
The tradition in Test cricket is that the batting side take a few beers into the fielding side's dressing-room afterwards, but not on this evening. Instead, Merv took an ice-box full of bottles, so keen was he to give the men of the Windies the full blow-by-blow account of every run he'd made. So it was that half an hour later, Jones - who himself had contributed 216 - and Hughes and several other Australian players were in the Windies dressing-room, when a sudden hush fell upon the gathering.
They looked to the door and there was Sir Donald Bradman himself, being ushered into the room by several South Australian cricket officials. The Don had expressed a desire to meet this mighty team, and now here he was.
For the next 15 minutes or so, the great man was introduced to the visiting players, with each West Indian standing up well before Sir Donald got to their position on the bench. Then, when their time came, they warmly shook his hand and had a few words.
This all proceeded splendidly until Sir Donald got to the last man on the bench, Patrick Patterson - the fastest bowler in the world at that time. So the story goes, not only did Patterson not stand, he simply squinted quizzically up at the octogenarian. Finally, after some 30 seconds of awkward silence, Patterson stood up, all two metres of pure whip-cord steel of him, and looked down at the diminutive Don.
"You, Don Bradman!?!" he snorted. "You, Don Bradman?!?! I kill you,mun! I bowl at you, I kill you! I split you in two!"
In reply, Sir Donald, with his hands on his hips, gazed squarely back at Patterson and calmly retorted: "You couldn't even get Merv out. You'd have no chance against me, mate!"
I really liked this anecdote posted on cricinfo.com:
A fanciful story from Michael Henderson on Don. Absolute Gem . "I think I have a beauty. It was told to me by the great Australian batsman, Dean Jones, who positively swore on the head of his daughter it happened, and I have since been told that Merv Hughes also confirms its truth.
The scene is set at a Test match between Australia and the West Indies at Adelaide Oval back in February 1989. These were the days when the Windies were the greatest power the cricketing world had ever seen, the days when they used to select 11 fast bowlers in the team and a 12th man who was a fast bowler just to be on the safe side.
And it was into just such a furnace that the young bowler Mervyn Hughes walked - with bat in hand. Figuring fortune favoured the brave, Hughes wielded the willow like an axeman his axe, and somehow - after snicking fortutiously, connecting full-bloodedly, and missing entirely - he finished the day's play at 72 not out.
The tradition in Test cricket is that the batting side take a few beers into the fielding side's dressing-room afterwards, but not on this evening. Instead, Merv took an ice-box full of bottles, so keen was he to give the men of the Windies the full blow-by-blow account of every run he'd made. So it was that half an hour later, Jones - who himself had contributed 216 - and Hughes and several other Australian players were in the Windies dressing-room, when a sudden hush fell upon the gathering.
They looked to the door and there was Sir Donald Bradman himself, being ushered into the room by several South Australian cricket officials. The Don had expressed a desire to meet this mighty team, and now here he was.
For the next 15 minutes or so, the great man was introduced to the visiting players, with each West Indian standing up well before Sir Donald got to their position on the bench. Then, when their time came, they warmly shook his hand and had a few words.
This all proceeded splendidly until Sir Donald got to the last man on the bench, Patrick Patterson - the fastest bowler in the world at that time. So the story goes, not only did Patterson not stand, he simply squinted quizzically up at the octogenarian. Finally, after some 30 seconds of awkward silence, Patterson stood up, all two metres of pure whip-cord steel of him, and looked down at the diminutive Don.
"You, Don Bradman!?!" he snorted. "You, Don Bradman?!?! I kill you,mun! I bowl at you, I kill you! I split you in two!"
In reply, Sir Donald, with his hands on his hips, gazed squarely back at Patterson and calmly retorted: "You couldn't even get Merv out. You'd have no chance against me, mate!"
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