For Indian cricket aficionados of my vintage, the cricket World Cup victory refers only to 1983. India has won two more World Cups subsequently - the first T 20 World Cup in 2007 and the ODI World Cup in 2011. Foe me, neither has created the same impact as the 1983 victory did. The 1983 win is also more vivid for what I was doing that day.
At the time I started following cricket, Test cricket was the only form of international cricket - leave alone T 20s, even ODIs started only a decade or so later. Indian players would probably play a maximum of two series a year, one at home and one abroad and often lose both. Newspaper coverage was extensive even of Ranji Trophy matches. I distinctly remember, as a small child, spreading the newspaper on the dining table and poring over the sports page while sitting on my haunches on the chair. Radio coverage was also available for all international matches.
In the midst of all this, a major innovation took place - One Day Internationals. The first World Cup of ODIs happened in 1975. India's performance in both 1975 and 1979 was nothing much to write about and the 1983 World Cup happened in this backdrop. Even Indian fans did not give their team much of a chance at the start of the tournament though the team was decidedly much better than before. In the league stage, captain Kapil Dev's epic 175* against Zimbabwe was virtually the difference between yet another early exit and a tilt at glory. Came the final on Saturday 25th June. Looking at the stalwarts in the West Indian team - the openers Haynes & Greenidge, the great Viv Richards, the captain Clive Lloyd, the awesome quartet of fast bowlers Roberts, Holding, Marshall and Garner - Indian fans and the Press had virtually resigned themselves to being runners-up.
The company I was working in then - Kinetic Engineering, Pune - very conveniently sent me to Mumbai on the day of the Final, a Saturday to meet some of our important vendors and chase them for components required for a model of a moped under development.
I left home before 6 am and reached Mumbai at around 10, being dropped by the company vehicle in the central locality of Dadar, I wended my way to a manufacturer of shock absorbers at the faraway suburb of Bhandup after meeting a couple of vendors en route. I just about managed to meet my contact, the avuncular Mr Jayaraman before he left for home to watch the match on TV, collected some samples which were ready and prepared to go across the length of Mumbai to book these by road to our works. I was accompanied by Irfan, his colleague who kept cursing me good-naturedly because I was preventing him from seeing the match. By the time we finished our work and went back by train, he to his house and I to my next port of call, both in the same direction, we found that the Indian innings had ended and at only 183 runs, which only got me more friendly abuse from Irfan!
My next meeting was at an industrial estate in the western suburb of Andheri with a company manufacturing locks. I reached the factory and found the shutters down. Talked to the person in the next office who was also closing shop and got a pitying look from him for working when the World Cup final was on! Fortunately, he not only was a friend of the lock manufacturer, Anant, he also knew where he lived. Trudged again to the nearest railway station, traveled by the suburban train back to Dadar where Anant lived. Located his house, he fortunately had the samples I needed ready and he invited me to watch the match on his TV set. I did do so for a short time to see Greenidge losing his stump to Sandhu! West Indies 5 for 1, which gave a small sliver of hope.
I then booked my return ticket to Pune by the Government ST bus from the Dadar bus stand and went to a nearby restaurant for a quick bite. While I was having my dinner, found that West Indies had reached 50 for no further loss which only made me feel more tired (I had been on my feet virtually from 6 am and it was now about 9 pm). Suddenly, in quick succession , we heard bursts of crackers four times - West Indies had suffered a meltdown and had slumped to 66 for 5 with both Richards and Lloyd back in the hutch. Indian hopes slowly rising.
I boarded the bus and was very happy to see a Sardar co-passenger glued to his transistor. Glory be! We could keep track of the score on the way. The ST bus even stopped in the city to enable him put fresh batteries in his set. Soon Faoud Bachus got out, the last of the recognised batsmen, WI 76 for 6 and Indian fans dreaming big. But Dujon, the wicket keeper and Marshall the fast bowler dug in and kept scoring slowly but steadily. The total moved from 80 to 90, 90 to 100 , to 110, 115 and now Indian fans were certainly skittish! Mohinder Amarnath worked his magic and bowled Dujon and soon had Marshall too. WI 124 for 8. India almost had their hands on the cup, especially when Kapil Dev got Andy Roberts soon, trapped in front of the wickets WI 126 for 9. Just one wicket for India to cause a stupendous upset. We did not bother about the 57 runs which their last wicket needed!
All this while, we did not take any notice of where the bus had reached. Each time a West Indian wicket fell, the Sikh would break into a bhangra - on the moving bus, mind you - and most of the other passengers would join in. We noticed the bus stopping and were a bit surprised to see that we had reached the half way stop of Lonavala. Surprisingly and considerately, the time keeper at the bus stand relayed the radio commentary over the PA system. Indian nerves started getting frazzled again as the last pair of Garner and Holding held fort. They didn't score much but weren't getting out either. A screech over the PA system rent the air finally - Amarnath had trapped Holding lbw and West Indies had collapsed to 140 all out, leaving India World Cup champions for the first time.
My enduring memory of that final ball is of a 65 year old man leap into the air and let out a blood-curdling scream. The sweet shop at the Lonavala bus stand never had it so good. An avalanche of customers from the buses waiting there descended on the shop and in a jiffy, bought all their wares. Total strangers were offering sweets to each other while dancing and shouting - all this at 11.30 in the night. Even I did so! The rest of the journey was almost an an anti-climax and quite frankly, I don't remember much of it now.
I did see on television every ball of India's subsequent World Cup victories and was thrilled to see Mahendra Singh Dhoni lift the cup both at Johannesburg in 2007 and Mumbai in 2011. But for me, the drama in these victories was just not there - despite the fact that the opponent in 2007 was Pakistan and that it was a much closer match.
Maybe the earliest victory has stayed in my mind because of the physically tiring work I put in that day- about three hundred kilometers is the round trip distance between Pune and Mumbai and comfortably another hundred at least I would have covered that day within Mumbai by train, taxi and auto-rickshaw. Being on one's feet for eighteen hours at a stretch and travelling about four hundred kilometers while doing work is not for the faint-hearted, but I was only thirty then and India did win, didn't it !
Hope you enjoyed this account ! If nothing else, for me it refreshed thirty seven year old memories !
At the time I started following cricket, Test cricket was the only form of international cricket - leave alone T 20s, even ODIs started only a decade or so later. Indian players would probably play a maximum of two series a year, one at home and one abroad and often lose both. Newspaper coverage was extensive even of Ranji Trophy matches. I distinctly remember, as a small child, spreading the newspaper on the dining table and poring over the sports page while sitting on my haunches on the chair. Radio coverage was also available for all international matches.
In the midst of all this, a major innovation took place - One Day Internationals. The first World Cup of ODIs happened in 1975. India's performance in both 1975 and 1979 was nothing much to write about and the 1983 World Cup happened in this backdrop. Even Indian fans did not give their team much of a chance at the start of the tournament though the team was decidedly much better than before. In the league stage, captain Kapil Dev's epic 175* against Zimbabwe was virtually the difference between yet another early exit and a tilt at glory. Came the final on Saturday 25th June. Looking at the stalwarts in the West Indian team - the openers Haynes & Greenidge, the great Viv Richards, the captain Clive Lloyd, the awesome quartet of fast bowlers Roberts, Holding, Marshall and Garner - Indian fans and the Press had virtually resigned themselves to being runners-up.
The company I was working in then - Kinetic Engineering, Pune - very conveniently sent me to Mumbai on the day of the Final, a Saturday to meet some of our important vendors and chase them for components required for a model of a moped under development.
I left home before 6 am and reached Mumbai at around 10, being dropped by the company vehicle in the central locality of Dadar, I wended my way to a manufacturer of shock absorbers at the faraway suburb of Bhandup after meeting a couple of vendors en route. I just about managed to meet my contact, the avuncular Mr Jayaraman before he left for home to watch the match on TV, collected some samples which were ready and prepared to go across the length of Mumbai to book these by road to our works. I was accompanied by Irfan, his colleague who kept cursing me good-naturedly because I was preventing him from seeing the match. By the time we finished our work and went back by train, he to his house and I to my next port of call, both in the same direction, we found that the Indian innings had ended and at only 183 runs, which only got me more friendly abuse from Irfan!
My next meeting was at an industrial estate in the western suburb of Andheri with a company manufacturing locks. I reached the factory and found the shutters down. Talked to the person in the next office who was also closing shop and got a pitying look from him for working when the World Cup final was on! Fortunately, he not only was a friend of the lock manufacturer, Anant, he also knew where he lived. Trudged again to the nearest railway station, traveled by the suburban train back to Dadar where Anant lived. Located his house, he fortunately had the samples I needed ready and he invited me to watch the match on his TV set. I did do so for a short time to see Greenidge losing his stump to Sandhu! West Indies 5 for 1, which gave a small sliver of hope.
I then booked my return ticket to Pune by the Government ST bus from the Dadar bus stand and went to a nearby restaurant for a quick bite. While I was having my dinner, found that West Indies had reached 50 for no further loss which only made me feel more tired (I had been on my feet virtually from 6 am and it was now about 9 pm). Suddenly, in quick succession , we heard bursts of crackers four times - West Indies had suffered a meltdown and had slumped to 66 for 5 with both Richards and Lloyd back in the hutch. Indian hopes slowly rising.
I boarded the bus and was very happy to see a Sardar co-passenger glued to his transistor. Glory be! We could keep track of the score on the way. The ST bus even stopped in the city to enable him put fresh batteries in his set. Soon Faoud Bachus got out, the last of the recognised batsmen, WI 76 for 6 and Indian fans dreaming big. But Dujon, the wicket keeper and Marshall the fast bowler dug in and kept scoring slowly but steadily. The total moved from 80 to 90, 90 to 100 , to 110, 115 and now Indian fans were certainly skittish! Mohinder Amarnath worked his magic and bowled Dujon and soon had Marshall too. WI 124 for 8. India almost had their hands on the cup, especially when Kapil Dev got Andy Roberts soon, trapped in front of the wickets WI 126 for 9. Just one wicket for India to cause a stupendous upset. We did not bother about the 57 runs which their last wicket needed!
All this while, we did not take any notice of where the bus had reached. Each time a West Indian wicket fell, the Sikh would break into a bhangra - on the moving bus, mind you - and most of the other passengers would join in. We noticed the bus stopping and were a bit surprised to see that we had reached the half way stop of Lonavala. Surprisingly and considerately, the time keeper at the bus stand relayed the radio commentary over the PA system. Indian nerves started getting frazzled again as the last pair of Garner and Holding held fort. They didn't score much but weren't getting out either. A screech over the PA system rent the air finally - Amarnath had trapped Holding lbw and West Indies had collapsed to 140 all out, leaving India World Cup champions for the first time.
My enduring memory of that final ball is of a 65 year old man leap into the air and let out a blood-curdling scream. The sweet shop at the Lonavala bus stand never had it so good. An avalanche of customers from the buses waiting there descended on the shop and in a jiffy, bought all their wares. Total strangers were offering sweets to each other while dancing and shouting - all this at 11.30 in the night. Even I did so! The rest of the journey was almost an an anti-climax and quite frankly, I don't remember much of it now.
I did see on television every ball of India's subsequent World Cup victories and was thrilled to see Mahendra Singh Dhoni lift the cup both at Johannesburg in 2007 and Mumbai in 2011. But for me, the drama in these victories was just not there - despite the fact that the opponent in 2007 was Pakistan and that it was a much closer match.
Maybe the earliest victory has stayed in my mind because of the physically tiring work I put in that day- about three hundred kilometers is the round trip distance between Pune and Mumbai and comfortably another hundred at least I would have covered that day within Mumbai by train, taxi and auto-rickshaw. Being on one's feet for eighteen hours at a stretch and travelling about four hundred kilometers while doing work is not for the faint-hearted, but I was only thirty then and India did win, didn't it !
Hope you enjoyed this account ! If nothing else, for me it refreshed thirty seven year old memories !
***
No comments:
Post a Comment