Some Dreams are Drafts

Young Again

September, 2016 

Kent, UK 

Jack stood in the balcony of their room. Some of his teammates were wasted and he was considerably drunk too. Drunk but still able to somewhat manage to reach the balcony without stumbling too much on the way or making a lot of noise. Anyways, Jack knew that only a sound like the scary screams in a horror movie could wake his teammate and dear friend, Steve. Whereas for the other roomate of his, Matt, the captain of their team and the calmest person Jack knew, a slight sound would be enough to wake him. 

It was quite hilarious, seeing a drunk man tiptoe into the balcony. And then make a victory sound when he grabbed the railing before putting his hand on the mouth and launching into a fit of silent laughter. 

Jack tried to stand still, regaining his composure. The laughter mime had now ended, the serotonin dissolved in his blood, giving room to melancholy. 

They had made it to the top four but lost the semi finals, finishing fourth. 

For two days, the mood in their camp had been sombre. Everyone had booked their tickets for the day after the finals. It was an unwritten rule in club cricket. Teams showed up even after they had lost to cheer for on paper rivals who had become family. 

There was something about club cricket that made it so joyous for the players. The competition remained within the boundaries of the ground. Outside it, it was just a bunch of boys hungry for two things. Experience in the realm of cricket and well, food. They were boys who travelled together after practice, exploring the lanes, stocking presents for their families with the locals suggesting the best place to buy scented candles and mufflers and what not. 

Like everything that has young people involved, Jack's boys belonged to a caravan too. A caravan that liked living in the moment and was all about making as many memories as its phone storage allowed but a caravan that also constantly asked itself, "what now? What next?"

"Couldn't sleep?" Jack hears Matt ask as he turns around to see him rubbing his eyes as he walks up to Jack. 

"More like I didn't want to sleep." Jack's sheepish grin makes Matt smile with fondness for his opening batsman. 

"We've been part of different cohorts. Different teams. Different leagues and tournaments. Yet each one is an experience that is so dear that I just cannot and do not want to say goodbye. Yet I want new experiences. I crave them. We all do. I don't know what to say, Matt or how to explain it but sometimes I feel, must we say goodbye to the good times?" 

Matt sighs, removing his hands from his pockets to give a pat on Jack's head. He was a decade older than Jack and yet he knew exactly how Jack felt. 

"So, drunk Jack is an emotional Jack." He says this to make that frown on Jack's face disappear and when it does he feels relieved. His smile widens when he hears Jack shrug and mutter under his breath, 

"All Jack's are emotional Jack's. But yes post gin Jack is an emotional wreck. See Mattyy!! It rhymed!!" Jack is about to clap his hands but he remembers that Steve is still asleep and decides to do a soundless celebration. 

"I'm going to miss all you blokes so much." Matt verbalises what Jack feels too sad to. 

"We've had a couple of hilarious months together, haven't we?" Jack nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. 

"The breakfast shenanigans!!" Three words, three simple words that contained so many memories filled with the overseas players trying to find their local food in the UK, and if they weren't able to, a couple of boys from South Africa had tried to make their local dish, Melktert which had turned out to be less sweeter than the whole experience of finding the ingredients and bonding over that one trip to the cake shops to buy measuring cups and aprons and other cute things they did not need but couldn't resist. 

The Melktert had begun the breakfast shenanigans, after which every Saturday was reserved for the overseas players to make something that reminded them of home. 

It had been Matt's idea. It was his way of ensuring that everyone in his team felt a little more at ease. And it had worked as an amazing bonding exercise. 

Matt smiles at Jack, his eyes shining with memories. 

"The streaming complaints!" Matt adds. Every single person in his team had received a phone call from their family after their first match. There were disappointed parents, angry siblings and livid partners who wanted to know why there was no coverage of their team when other team matches were being live streamed. 

At the beginning, everyone in their camp had tried to reason with their family. Club cricket wasn't the fairest. Streaming depended on the history of success. And the club for which Jack and Matt played hadn't been the most consistent club. 

The tips of Jack's ears redden and Matt notices this. 

Jack had received an email from Bhavika after the first match. It was an adorable email to say the least, filled with live commentary. Bhavika was thrilled to see Jack play well but absolutely livid to not have witnessed it live. 

Jack clears his throat before speaking, "But we did manage to change things here, didn't we?" 

They had spoken to the club managers, the league directors and all the bigshot people who couldn't understand why this mellow little club with a rocky history, suddenly wanted its match to livestream. They made excuses, the same old trio of excuses - budgetary issues, technical issues and staff shortage. 

Bhavika had requested Jack to see if they found any interns who were willing to cover the match. And if his teammates would be willing to contribute a part of their match fees so that people could see them play and take pride. 

"What was her name? The friend of yours who had suggested to take in interns?" Matt knows Jack is thinking of her due to the immediacy with which Jack answers, "Bhavika" before falling silent. 

Matt thinks it is because Jack is feeling shy but in reality, Jack is amused to think of Bhavika as his friend. It was so pleasant that Jack had to take support of the railing to keep him from losing touch with the reality that Bhavika was a girl he hadn't even met. 

"Bhavika, yes." Matt says. 

The two enjoy the view in silence for sometime before they hear Steve mumble something in sleep and end up simultaneously uttering, 

"Here we go again." 

Before they go back in, Matt looks at Jack and whispers. 

"Cheer up, mate. Time's cruel. But memory isn't. Random moments will show up in your head when you least expect them. And, at least in these fleeting moments you'll be young again." 

Jack soaks Matt's words. He sees wisdom in them because he has already experienced it. Even at the age of twenty three, the memories of his under nineteen days occasionally greet him with warmth. 

"To memories!" He raises an invisible glass and Matt does the same, 

"To memories!"