the heat was on

In the evening on Friday, Jasmine and I were making plans for the Saturday. Later at the party which we finally went for, I got a call from the company cricket captain. We have a match tomorrow and we need you. Great. A quick permission from my wife and I am on. I told my wife that this will be a full day match unlike the twenty over ones we normally play for half a day. This was the real thing 35 overs a side. My looked at me with.. with a look that said – you are crazy. I love these long matches. Nowadays the only reason I get called to matches is when we don’t have enough players to complete the eleven. My calling card, good safe fielder, can swing it in the end if the match is tight and can bat out long hours in long matches if the team is out early; and no faltu attitude. That’s it. My entire reason for loving the long matches is also pretty simple. I will definitely get batting. The team is invariably inside in about 25 overs. That’s when I walk in with around two three wickets to go and tons of overs to play for. Last year this was 45 over match, which I got to bat for 20 overs.
The only issue with these matches is that this is the RBI shield which is conducted in the most oppressive month in Mumbai. May. The temperature is generally in excess of 35 degrees and the humidity is easily greater than 75%. The sun shines down hard and there very little cloud cover. It’s really really oppressive.
Immediately as I cut the phone I told jasmine, “its time to start drinking water”. The ritual is clear. I start drinking water from the evening before. The wake up next day. Have my shredded wheat with fruit and milk. That is the best bet and has worked so far. Then have some more water. Then some fruit on the drive to the ground. Then some more water. Then some stretching, some knocks, come catching, then lots more water. And then some more water. Then on to the field. A last swig of the bottle before you go. Try and get in some sugar and salt in the water. This time I mixed salt with the tang in my bottle. Then drink at every opportunity.
I was fielding in the deep this time. The best part about Mumbai cricket is that the density of matches is very high. Sure you risk getting hit by a ball from another match, but the flip side is that there is always some action always going on. Every second there is a ball being bowled. Where I was fielding I was following two matches in addition to my own. I also took a few swigs of water from the other match drinks break. No one says no for a water sip. Everyone will be asking each other, ‘which match are you playing’. Its good fun. It makes fielding in the deep a lot more interesting. There is enough variety and intensity going around.
And it surely helps on a really hot day. From the ground at cross maidan, where we were playing, I absolutely love the sight of Rajabhai towers. I keep looking at that to know the time. The drinks break come every one hour. I know how much I need to go before I get another drink. Also this time around I practised some breathing along with stretches on the ground. Normally we merely stretch but thanks to yoga, I learnt how to breathe while stretching. That really helps improving concentration and stability. In one of the drinks break I reckoned that I was far off enough from the umpire, enough to flick one bottle and keep it in my pocket during the last one hour. The Mumbai umpires can get notoriously finicky. Some are sweet and some irritating. Some won’t allow spikes on the pitch; some disallow leg byes saying no shot offered, some give leg befores just because you were rude. Anything goes. Once one umpire held up the game and asked me to tuck my t shirt in my tracks. Really. They can go too far at times. You have to ask permission to pee during the drinks break. The dam urinals aren’t there and the pee point is the periphery of the ground. You just need a wall and you can let go. It always two steps away from your deep fielding position in any case. But you still have to ask. So I wasn’t taking chances. I knew he won’t allow the bottle on the field so I hid the bottle and kept taking swigs from it.
The heat started rising. The ground gets hot. You are out standing for more than two hours now. The heat starts emanating from the ground as well. You can pour water on your head and t shirt and that too won’t really help. You just hope to sweat enough to keep the body cool. Wind is never a big factor at these grounds. A few gusts here and there.
At the end of the first innings (we fielded) we gathered together. I was a little slow into the huddle. I got in as the captain was screaming. He was pissed at the fielding and the fitness. I knew its got nothing to do with me. I had a 100% track record this match. A lot of balls came to my side which I managed well and saved quite a few runs. He was talking about some of the younger guys. Some of whom complained of nausea. Hahahha. The last batsman after the innings was sitting in the middle of the ground and trying to puke out. There was nothing come out of his mouth. He obviously had an empty stomach and his body was retching air. I gleefully ran into the huddle with my spirits high. The water drinking binge was an old secret. That’s the only way to go.
My team was collapsing under the heat. I offered to get the lunch for them. You relax, I am fir enough. Some of the younger guys were in complete awe. Jasmine called to figure how I was faring. I was gleefully happy ‘I have won. I am the oldest but I have the highest energy left on the field’.
But this only the first instalment. The second started when it was our turn to bat. Now it was one o clock. The sun was even more oppressive. I was roaming around in my shorts trying to remain cool. The breeze dropped, the heat rose and the place was a furnace. Sure enough at around the 25th over I got sent in to bat. The match was lost. We needed too many runs and had no wickets in hand. The instructions to me were clear. Make the other team field for the full 35 overs. We will not be all out. Soon my head was throbbing. The electral solution I had some time back was trying to make its way out. Every ball required me to bring my concentration to the ball and play it. there was no way in hell I was going to get out.
The wicket keeper was crying out ‘reham, reham’ which basically meant, g
Have some pity on us and get out. Haha. That merely spurred me on. Some sledging followed. That was even more fun. Then we ran a few hard runs, just to irritate the fielding team. This was to make them run harder for the ball. A soft fielding approach meant one more run for us. The at last at the 34th over I decided to smash a few. Little energy left for that though. I shot sailed into the wall for a six over mid wicket, the next safely ensconced itself into the fielder right there. End of a marathon effort.
I then washed a bit and changed and directly headed for the pool at my gymkhana. My body was so warmed up, that I am sure it might have been a few degrees hotter than normal. I walk out with my costume on and I started shivering in the open. As I hit the water I can barely control my shiver. I still manage to swim a few laps and then shower and change.
To my surprise I recovered well towards the evening. Normally sunstroke requires a crocin and an hour of sleep at least. This time the sheer will power to keep forcing water down my throat helped. The realisation of nutrition in sports is so important. You eat wrong, you drink wrong and you will suffer on the field. Fitness is one thing, nutrition is completely another. This all is only possible to whatever level thanks to me understanding a bit of need for correct food and drink. I was a little lazy for lunch and I had a biryani and I think I suffered a bit thanks to that. I will to figure that piece as well. I assumed rice was good but it comes gift wrapped in a lot of other stuff. One can only get smarter.
I have no idea why I do this shit. I guess it’s just a point that I need to prove myself. I am still fit and I can still give the youngsters a run for their money. If I can tell others to bear the heat, then I must be able to bear it myself. At least now I can advise without being guilty of living in an ivory tower. So next time Jispa says it was too hot I can give her a story on what hot actually is. Running for no reason on a hot day with your cricket gear on is pushing the limits of sanity.
In the evening I was telling Jispa how I played in the hot sun, whole day. She was like ‘you played cricket whole day! That too with your gloves and everything on! I to want to remove your gloves in one second when I try them at home with the fan on’. For that one second I think, I repeat I think, I was a hero in her eyes. That was well worth every moment.

PS: Sanity did prevail in the household, as an average. Jasmine was alone as Jispa was also at Dadi’s house. She used the Saturday to sleep right through, in the cool confines of the house. Lucky woman.