The Dressing Room Of Eden Gardens

Epilogue- And The Battle Bows To Us

Was debating whether to post it or not because I wrote it a long time back but never you know editted it or anything. But then I said wth, might as well post it cuz I have gone dead on my few loyal readers so many times now.

By the way, I know I moan a lot about Steve Waugh but that is only because I admire him a lot and hate him for the same. Magnificent guy truly. Some of his innings and then the way he and Mark Taylor turned the team around to form the Goliaths of 2000s... incredible.

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The taste of defeat didn't so much as sit bitterly on his tongue as it swirled around in his mouth, flushing down his throat, turning everything it touched sour. Steve knew he shouldn't complain as much as he wanted to. They hadn't played bad persay. He couldn't pull up his teammates and say "You. You cost us the match," or "We were straight up terrible,". Because they hadn't been terrible, they had been doing more than fine in fact. Just that one VVS Laxman was inflicted upon them and then Rahul Dravid had joined him. Together they had wreaked such havoc, danced on Steve spirit until it was a pale mockery of what it had been before the series had started. By the time that little spinner of theirs had butchered their batting line-up, the match was already gone. Steve had known realistically it was gone.

Yet it had been the worst pill to swallow when the last wicket had fallen. He sighed heavily and shook his head. No use crying over spilled milk (Spilled, spoilt, rotten milk that was being shoved down Steve's throat), the only thing in his hands now was the next match. The next match which he could not afford to lose. They hadn't lost a series with him at the helm before, surely this couldn't be the exception. 

He sighed heavily again and stepped out of the elevator, looking up and down the corridors. Now which of these identical doors was he supposed to knock. He was here to meet one man and one man only and he would rather not interact beyond that. Unfortunately that didn't seem very plausible seeing how he had no idea which door to knock. He was about to give in and swallow his pride for the second time that day when a voice stopped him.

"Can I help you?"

Steve turned and he wished immediately that he hadn't because it was not only not the guy he wanted to see but also the man whose face he would really rather never see again in his entire life. VVS Laxman was looking at him, leaning heavily against the wall with a polite smile on his face.

"Uh I was just looking for Dravid. I-"

"Oh, he's not here. None of them are," Laxman cut him off before he could explain why he wanted to meet Dravid.

Steve stared at him awkwardly, wondering if this was his sign to just go back to his room and his mourning. Unfortunately Laxman answered the unasked and took that choice away.

"They are all downstairs, at the bar. Celebrating,".

Steve frowned, that didn't sound much like Dravid, "Celebrating? I thought he was sick?"

Laxman nodded, grimacing as he hobbled forward, "He is. But he didn't want to miss that for the world. Truthfully I wouldn't either, but-" he paused to give a painful smile, "-my body is not giving me much of a choice here,".

Steve belatedly realized he probably should have offered help but Laxman was already at his door, turning to give him a polite smile before hobbling in.

"Laxman!" he called out before the door shut. Laxman poked his head out inquisitively. Steve sucked in a breath before smiling a bit forcefully.

"Well played," was all he managed to say though he meant much much more than that. It wasn't like he felt stingy about compliments. It's just that the wound was still fresh and the one who had inflicted it, could barely walk to his own room, let alone face off an entire team and come out on top.