The Dressing Room Of Eden Gardens

When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted

Kolkata, 2001 - Day 5 - Last Session

It was right after tea when the itch, the ever famous itch, gets to an unbearable level though he tries to keep a lid on it. They had just one session in hand. Australia was not winning this but they didn't look like they were keen on losing this either. Waugh and Hayden were bringing the batting to life again and there is something inside him telling him this was the chance, this was the opportunity to shed the burden tag he kept putting on himself. This could be his chance to contribute instead of being the dead weight which kept his team from swimming up and over this tide.

Sourav squints against the glares of the sun, in what Sachin liked to call was his thinking face. He is rolling the ball around in his hands absent mindedly, looking around at all of them but seeing none of them truly. There is a decision incoming and Sachin can feel an itch climbing up the soles of his feet to rush over to his captain and take that fucking ball from his hands. Hayden and Waugh had resurrected a fifty run partnership and Hayden in particular looked far too comfortable. Bhajji and Raju were bowling, but Raju's medium pace was only allowing the game to get away further and further and he just knows he could cover up that hole of Anil Kumble if Sourav just let him. That itch is only worsened even further by the ghost of Sourav's parting words to the team in the dressing room, slithering around his ears.

"They played out of their skins to save us. We are winning this, and all of you better make sure of it," his specs had not hidden any of the fire burning in Sourav's eyes as he had pinned each of them down with an almost threatening stare.

There was a time not too long ago it would be him pulling from the voids inside him, the will to try and get his team fired up. He had never realised how deeply rooted was his loneliness, the feeling that he could never share the burden with anyone. And then, then this upstart from Bengal, a shadow from his childhood had arrived. It was Sourav who Sachin had trusted first in that team of '96. Sure Anil and Sri were always there but he could never quite share his burden with them. They were far too important for the team, he could not have added his longstanding fears to their shoulders. So instead it had been Sourav to whom he had whispered softly, cautiously, as if the walls themselves might be eavesdropping on them; that he had reasons to believe their match had been fixed. Sourav had frowned as if it was a complete non-issue and said as if it were really that simple, "Well let's make sure we win it then,".

The seed had settled then though he had not realized, the safety that synonymised with Sourav Ganguly, the safety that he had only associated with two men before him. Only one of the two had been deserving of it. He had not quite realized when he had stopped treating Sourav like his player but as a sharer of this burden. It was only after Sourav that he had begun trusting the rest of them. Opening up to the rest of them. It had happened so slowly, so sneakily, he hadn't even realized when he had gone from closed doors of a fortified heart to an absolute mess of emotions with them.

He watches as Sourav's eyes come back to him. There is just a hint of the unasked question in his eyes but Sachin leaps immediately, hurrying forward to take the ball.

"I will do it,".

"Just one spell," Sourav teases him. He knows its a jest. It has to be a jest because on a spinners paradise, he was the next best spinner. In other cases he would have gotten a little annoyed, like he always does when someone doesn't give him the ball when he knows that he can make an impact, when he  has all these plans only for the captain to say no. Sourav always knows where to poke him to annoy him.

But Sachin is too busy planning his over to pay him much mind and goes, "Yeah yeah, sure,".

He barely hears the huff of a laugh as he marks his runup.

The first over is lame, him bowling from one end, Bhajji from the other. They both give away nearly ten runs. His second over goes much better and he only leaks a single run. He can feel himself get into his rythme, his fingers gripping the ball much better, the ball sticking to the lines he wanted it to.

And then Bhajji explodes in the next over, draws the all important wickets of Waugh and Ponting into his trap. They roar as one, and Sachin feels, feels as if it is right there. That redemption is right there. For him. For his team. Just a little away. A heady urgency takes over him as he takes up the ball, feeling as if the edges of every object in his vision, just got sharper. Brighter. He rolls the ball into the air and catches it. Gilchrist taps his bat on the non striker end, looking far too comfortable. Hayden remarks his crease and stares at him for a moment before taking strike. He is a huge man. That stare alone would have wavered many a man, the confidence would have stolen the breath away. 

But Sachin is not just any man. He is Sachin Tendulkar, his name has always been bigger than him while he labored away to live upto it. And he is determined, that this won't be a one of those days where he fails. He had been given a crown and he is going to make damn sure that it fits.

The first ball goes for a dot. Hayden defends with ease and Sachin is unbothered. The second ball is a little too in Hayden's zone. While the four gets blocked, Hayden runs a single, giving Gilchrist his first strike. Sachin takes the ball back and considers the new man in for a second. To say Gilchrist had a reputation would be an understatement. In a team stacked with monsters, he was that man coming in last but taking the game away with him when he does. Fast runs, furious runs. Barring Andy Flower, there had never been a wicketkeeper who batted with such authority that despite all the other batsmen, the more complete batsmen in the team; he was the one everyone took care in disposing off. Even a percentage of error and a shot well executed, would be enough to get Gilchrist the confidence to beat everyone out of the ground. They had to get rid of him with even more urgency than they had to get rid of Hayden, the man clearly aiming for a century.

Sachin rolls the ball again in his hands. The field is set for off spin. A left hander to offspin is cliched but effective. He knows Gilchrist knows this. And then he runs. He knows as soon as he releases the ball and Gilchrist gets a big stride in, that the man had expected that offspin. Unfortunately for him, the field had been a bluff. He had thrown a very full ball, bordering on a full toss and it had rapped the batsman, smartly on the pads, right infront of the wicket.

He barely turns with his hands up, the appeal ripping out of his throat and the umpire has already lifted the finger. The celebration is still ringing in his throat when Sourav reaches him, smile wide, and arms open.

"Only one spell?" he asks, mockingly.

Sourav gives a bark of a laugh, "Give me a few more of those and you can have as many as you want,".

If possible, his grin stretches even wider, painfully stretching his cheeks as he watches Gillespie walk in. Bhajji was on a roll, so they were going to have to compete for wickets now. His eyes shift back to Hayden, frowning at them as they slowly dispersed. Bhajji had infact had most of the main wickets and was expecting to have some more. He tosses the ball habitually as he walks back to his run up, eyes stuck on Hayden. Maybe Bhajji could spare him a few from the main course.