Really Fake IPL Player

I got knocked up pretty early in the morning. From my standards, blasphemously early! 6 AM!!! It did not exactly help that I had been relishing vodka till about 4 AM. But my fragile constitution has grown tired and weary of the same drink going in since circa 2004 AD and hence did not resist too violently. I joined my friends on a cool Saturday morning for a game of cricket and decided that it was today that I am going to reinvent myself. By what measure and by how much, the day would later add those details.

Since I missed my car very much, I threatened by much larger friend with hours of boredom and my singing if he did not let me ride his car. With a sinking feeling of realization, I saw that the threat worked. It seemed my dreams to top Indian Idol was going down the drain. I held some solace that may be "Indian Idle" might still be up for grabs. May be I could send in pictures of my fielding skills to back my claim :)

The old car listened to me and often I felt like driving a truck as I struggled to change the gears. Onlookers looked in awe... not at my driving, but at the various distortions that I was making with my face. I did not win too many friends on the ride to the stadium. And by my guesses, I lost a few I had made in the car that morning. We reached the ground and fell out like logs out of a truck. It is not often a very pleasant ride when you have six people crammed in a place barely enough for four. Added to that, their chauffeur was not exactly Micheal Schumacher. 

I have been going to the gym and hence was very insistent that I have remodeled my shapeless body into a fine piece of aerodynamically designed piece of weapon. I swung my arms and pelted a few stones into vacant spaces to pronounce my newly found power. Some of the audience duly dispersed and others said I was very funny. I felt a searing pain in my shoulders. To my great joy, I got to bat a few minutes later. Mostly because the kid who was to bat at that number had gone searching for smokes. Ever the great opportunist, I jumped on the bandwagon and raced to the middle. 

I can imagine the sinking feeling my partner must have had when I walked in instead of his regular partner in crime. He came and did the customary bat tapping and told me to look out for his call. He also asked me to go for my shots and that he would stay put. I smiled to myself. Go for my shots??? Yeah.. nice good phrase.. I must try that sometime.. I did not get the strike for almost an over. My clever partner made sure that I was always at the non-strikers end. I made many cricket poses and chewed a gum and made a face when spitting it out. At last I got my turn to face the music.

To my great horror, a young chap tumbled on and decided he was going to do a warney! I could not have hit a bowling alley ball, leave alone a ripper on a spitefully turning track!!! As it spun past me, I made the legend acknowledging  a rookie "look". The bowler responded in kind. Fiercely determined, I swung my bat hard at the next one. The ball went about 60 degrees away from its intended direction. As far as I was concerned, I did not intend anything. I ran as though my life depended on it and got a run! My day was made. So if friends called me later that day, every run can easily be multiplied by about 2 or 3 and be told with great tales of the effort that went into making it. For those who know me..... "Big Fish" :)

My increasingly irritated partner gestured that I need to get a move on. He was afraid that I might bat out for more than an over or two. Inspiring partnership. When he got the chance, he played to the galleries. I did not because..... guess there were no galleries in the ground :) Well finally after about three overs since I started to bat, I realized that I had far exceeded my expiry date on a cricket ground. Something had to give... I was run out backing up too far from the bowlers end. It turns out I was the only one the whole day who was run out like that. 

Honest to god! I did get into double figures... Ofcourse you need to keep in mind inconsistencies that might creep in, especially since I was the one counting my own scores. Okay! Lets settle it! I made about 5! And comeon! every run counts! 

Thanks to the heroics of a great player, we made a good score. They chased it very well. It was very nice to see, especially when you quietly sneak into a part of the ground where there was ample shade and the ball was rarely hit in that direction. I think the captain was happy thinking that I had gone home. To his utter dismay he found me lurking in the shadiest part of the ground. Perhaps realizing that I would do the least damage from there, he let me be. :) Then it started to happen.

A high catch resulted in my colliding with another fellow and left my fingers very sore. I brought upon myself the great burden of bending my lithe frame to pick the ball up, it hit a stone and then hit my face. Greatly embarrassed, I tried to throw it back. I found that it bisected the wicket into half. I could see that my chances of playing in the IPL was fast diminishing. Never one to loose hope, I thought I was still due a great bit of fielding. It did come, as I fielded one ball properly. It was the one they made the winning run from. Then I put on my "Legend congratulates rookies" look as I went about shaking hands with my opponents. Some were smiling when they shook my hands. I had a strange feeling that they were mocking at me. How was it possible??? Twenty five overs in the sun (and shade) and then three overs of mind boggling histrionics with the bat. Some Jonty-be-proud fielding.... What am I missing???

I waited that day till about six in the evening. There was no call from Priety Zinta or Shilpa Shetty. They are my favorite IPL players. After that I had important appointments to keep with Ms. Smirnoff and Mr. Sprite and ofcourse where there is wills there is gold flake. I did get a missed call, but being the legend that I am, I do not talk to people who miss their appointments.

Watch out for more.. from the one true legend.. The Really Fake IPL Player :)