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.

healthy mind healthy body (what fart nah!)

I would like to put a premium of fitness. Waking up at 5.55 am getting to work, finishing it, getting to the club by 8 for a game of squash and then reaching home by 9.30 pm to dinner and bad, is not easy. Sometimes one wants to just let it be and relax, reach home early read a bit doze off. But I want to push the body. It must remain fit if it has to last. I hate putting on weight. I like to be lean at all times. Right now I am quite at ease at what I weigh. At 68 I am nearly ten kilos more than what I was at college. I was pretty skinny then and reaching the other end of the spectrum is not my goal. I tell Jasmine many times that if I ever get fat, shoot me. The key to staying there is eating right and exercising right. Squash is bloody tiring. Especially with a player who is purposely hitting you shots that you can reach. The rallies can go on forever. I hate unforced errors and if neither is going for the kill then the physical drain is way too much. I can’t play the game everyday. One day game must be followed by another day of rest. It’s way too much physically demanding. And then we try swim on weekends. The most exciting new exercise for me is holding the board outstretched in my hands and using only leg power to propel. It’s more difficult than I thought and it’s awesome exercise for my knees. It has considerably strengthened them. They pain much less after squash these days, almost negligible.
Jispa has been learning Hindi and she has been using every opportunity to polish her skills. Here is the milk booth near the bus stop which she uses as her reading board every morning. For the record her most boring subject for now is math followed by any subject that has to have her do some writing. With these preferences, she is at present quite the antipode of what I was. I hated Hindi and could do math for hours...

It hurts like hell

Cricket. Its not often these days that I get to play in the “A” team of my company, there are plenty of good players. But the team is now undergoing a challenge so as to speak. On Saturday we had a match and I was in the playing eleven as a decent player. Needing 123 to win in 20 overs, we were pretty well placed. A sudden rush of wickets and I went into bat at number 5. I was scheduled to bat in at six but I got promotes to hold the wickets. I blocked and blocked knowing that the captain wanted me to preserve my wicket. I kept talking to myself. Keeping cool, keep focused. Sing a song and keep the mind free when the ball is about to be bowled. Keep your wits about you. I was doing pretty ok, good perhaps, but my fitness failed me. Or should I say I failed my fitness. 33 and for the first time I was really tired on the field. I never was out of breath taking the second run till Saturday. I lasted for about 10 overs, taking the team to a decent but not strong enough position. I got out because I was tired. It was important for me to get out at the time as well, because I was tired. We lost by 1 run in the end. I top scored at 31. If we had won, it would have been my best innings ever. But we lost. I played well beyond my normal concentration levels, well beyond what I might have been expected. I played and outscored and kept my head better than the top players. BUT FUCKING HELL… we lost and if I was a little fitter, we would have won. I blame myself. I am SOOOO ANGRY with myself.
In corporate cricket you win some you lose some, you don’t really care too much. But on Saturday the defeat hurt. It hurt like hell. It is still hurting. Now I know what it is to really play hard, contribute and the lose. The team lost it in the intensity. We didn’t show the intensity on and off the field. But that no excuse personally. I am so bloody pissed off. Two months I had relaxed. No squash no nothing. I am starting squash today itself. I have to figure a routine for cardio in the local gym itself, swimming as well. At 33 I realised that the body can deteriorate very fast. This is not acceptable. Running 100 meters faster than other out of shape jokers is not enough. Standards have to be your own to start with. It still hurts and this defeat I will not forget for time to come. I did learn how to bat better. I don’t blame myself there. I keep learning all the time. I have had the least match experience amongst all these good players. So I give myself marks for being mentally fit.
But I regret not living the magic of being mentally and physically there. Then one will be ‘spiritually’ there. That’s a goal.