This has been the highlight of my life lately, with the ICC T20 World Cup having been going on lately. Actually, ever since I married a cricket fanatic, which was nearly 5 years ago (wow! It's been that long?!), cricket has been an integral part of our lives. There used to be a time that I liked cricket, and I loved watching every match that India played, and followed the World Cup religiously when it showed up every 4 years. That was before I came face-to-face with the realisation that there's more to the sport that the occassional World Cups or Champions Trophies and the like. Our living room became host to every series being played out there, Indian related or not. West Indies, Australia, England, Pakistan, New Zealand, Test matches, ODIs, T20s, IPLs... our routines revolved around them.
That was until Unilever KSA realised that their company could not function without keeping Saad Mohsin glued to their office for an average of 10 hours a day, thereby making him miss all his beloved games. (note: this did cause me, at times, to feel bad for the poor guy!). Wait a minute, cricket did not leave our lives. Our living room television did continue playing host to all the afore-mentioned, now in the form of highlights. And oh yes, hogging the laptop to read ball-by-ball summary of the match being replayed on the tube.
Sigh. Cricket widow vent over. Well, not really, but that's not what this post is about. It was about the manic madness that surrounds the game. Coffee table discussions, instant messages, text messages, all revolve around the current matches, every man suddenly becomes a cricket expert/critic, spilling out advice to their favourite spinner as to how if he bowled a different way, their team WOULD have won. More evenings are wasted on one single channel (my finger is left to twitch on its own for lack of channel surfing).
And then it comes. The mother of all cricket mania. The dreaded India-Pakistan match, followed by all other matches that would affect the status of these two teams. Normal, mature, intelligent adults suddenly become mean, petty, hyper... offices turn into stadiums, the roads become devoid of public transportation (watching the match is more important to the taxi drivers than earning a livelihood), and actual family members turn foes, if they support the other team.
This is getting really old now. I'm 30 years old (well, actually 24, but my parents lost my birth certificate and had to get a fake one and the date on that reads 1982. But really, I'm still 24) and I've spent my life listening to the same people diss the other country, taunt them, call names, and be downright nasty. I do admit to falling into the trap to a limit, but maturity got the better of me. Facebook becomes entertaining to a limit, then boring, and then just plain annoying when the jokes just refuse to end and fuses keep blowing on and off again and again and again.... People just don't give up.
I dream of a world where my children will watch the game just for the mere pleasure of it. My darling little Chintu will support India because he will grow up, InshaAllah, to be a proud Indian, but he will not go crazy because India lost. (well, unless it comes down to not even qualifying for the semi-finals after being World Champions in 2 formats of the game). He will show true sportsmanship and cheer the better team.
Uhh. Vent over. Time to wash the baby's milk bottles, soak almonds for DH (Dear Husband) and I, lay out work clothes for the morning, prepare a last feed of formula for the night, struggle through a last diaper change, and then settle down with a cup of green tea before hitting the sheets!
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