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Today, we welcome Abhijato back to TFT. It seems that England’s supporters are not the only ones desperate for the game they love…
It’s hard to care about cricket anymore. I have always liked this sport-never perfect, occasionally annoying, and rewarding. But in the past few months, a switch in my life seemed to be triggered by a mysterious force in Murakami’s novels. I cannot be sure of the exact reason, but now whenever I check the scoreboard, I am not as excited about live sports events as I used to be.
Perhaps this started during the IPL. After India’s series against England, the unfinished 2021 season came too early. At that time, the second wave of pandemic had not yet reached its peak. People are losing their lives and looking for resources to save lives all over the world. On the other hand, tournament and cricket bureaucrats are blatantly grabbing cash as usual. There are reports that medical resources have been hijacked as a “backup” for players. When watching in the background of an empty stadium, the dazzling production value makes the audience unforgettable.
Soon, the pandemic also penetrated into the game. The cause of the outbreak is still a secret. My enthusiasm for games seems to disappear mysteriously at the same time. Perhaps this correlation does not prove cause and effect, but what is fascinating is that even the sight of England being defeated by the New Zealanders in recent days…makes me feel less gloating than usual.
Now, I am as happy as ever-work efficiently, start a new career, and spend quality time with the people I love. But cricket seems to be slowly being excluded from my schedule. Is it because I am more and more satisfied with myself as a person? I cannot honestly confirm this.
However, what I do know is that I understand the world more and more. Compared to the median cricket fan in the country, I have always had a better understanding of what happened in the back door of Indian cricket. However, this epidemic has made many things right, including the real-life cost of becoming a cricket fan in a country plagued by countless socio-political issues.
A few months ago, most active Indian players posted a series of coordinated tweets with the hashtag #IndiaAgainstPropoganda in response to foreign criticism of the government’s handling of farmers’ protests. The whole thing smelled like propaganda. It is no coincidence that the actual leader of BCCI is the son of the Minister of Internal Affairs.
The world’s largest cricket court was recently completed and renamed after the country’s prime minister. In an open attempt to make subtle changes in their graves, either party is named after the country’s wealthiest industrialists—they are all close allies of the current regime.
I am not going to engage in politics here. After all, in most cases, the bureaucrats of world cricket have crossed the political aisles in an attempt to become corrupt and incompetent people together. As long as you don’t consider the collateral damage caused by each of their decisions to an unimportant sport, it will bring beneficial viewing effects.
The recent fiasco of Ollie Robinson made me better understand the people in the world. If luck supports him from now on, he will become an excellent cricketer. But the lesson his retrospective suspension taught me is only a reinforcement of the lesson the world has taught me in the past few months-morality cannot be quantified, and all our souls are caught in a gray area between justice and sorrow.
I’m not going to be publicly emotional. In fact, when I wrote my first cricket work in my heart for a long time, I did not feel the excitement when I described Pant’s efforts or satirized the British reaction to the defeat of the subcontinent. pain.
Perhaps, I overreacted to my downturn in enthusiasm. The upcoming World Test Championship finals will be exciting. The five-set match between India and England may also become a classic. In any sense, I should be optimistic about what the cricket world expects of me.
But I think that when I fail to connect the deliberate incompetence of cricket with the real world, I will never be so excited about the game again. Alas, the awareness of the interconnectedness of the world is both a gospel and a curse. But once you start looking at the game from a larger plan, there is no turning back.
I will not close cricket from my life. Even though I wrote down all the murky realizations while writing this blog, I still like the nature of the sport—still never perfect, occasionally annoying, and rewarding. The world has become better because of it, and it is worth watching and admiring the game as it is.
Perhaps, watching Rohit Sharma put on the Test white forefoot and chuckling at the Stuart Broad celebration will eliminate my recent discomfort. But I doubt it. Really, this is not a bad thing, nor is it a particularly worrying change in my feelings about cricket. That’s it.
When I return to my seat in the next few weeks and start watching a cricket match again, I hope to forget the world’s worries when it goes well halfway. After all, isn’t this exactly what we wanted and why we loved this game in the first place?
Abijato Sensama
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