When time froze...

Picture courtesy: cricinfo.com

4 balls. Pakistan need 6 runs to win.

The bowler charges in towards the wicket even as the batsman scuffles across. The ball leaves his arm and hurtles towards the awaiting bat. The right handed batsman scoops it towards deep fine leg wanting it to clear the boundary. The camera follows the ball. The whole cricketing world follows through. It rises into the air soaring like a phoenix. The crowd is on its feet in the background.

Time freezes.

The ball is stuck in the air awaiting its destiny. The course it takes from this moment determines the fate of two teams. The fate of two nations; two nations for whom cricket in just another form of a war. Two nations on the verge of redemption for the world cup debacle of exiting in the first stage. Clearing the rope it would lead to an anti-climax for the billions of Indians and falling into the hands of a fielder would break the hearts of millions of Pakistanis.

A whole stadium is one its feet. An entire nation stops breathing…

I just can’t recollect what all emotions I went through and what antics I performed as I sat in my office cafeteria with colleagues watching the closing stages of the finals of the Twenty20 world cup. One moment it was sheer ecstasy and the very next our spirits were down in the dumps. Never remember experiencing such roller coaster of an emotional ride watching a cricket match.

Today morning when the news reporter said that “this match is going to go down to the wire and this match is not for the weak hearted” I almost choked on my breakfast. What the hell? How can she be so sure about this? And by golly every single word of hers turned out to be true.

Cruising home for a comfortable victory, the Indians were given a rude shock in the 17th over as Misbah-ul-Haq took the fight right into the enemy camps. He smashed 3 sixes of a Harbajan over. Our guys in the cafeteria, who had whistled, hooted, clapped and what not, stood and watched as if struck by a lightening. It was turning to be an anti-climax. The asking rate for Pakistan dropped drastically and they were clawing back their way into a game which we had till then comfortable assumed, belonged to us.

I felt like strangulating Harbajan. Before his over Pakistan needed 54 runs off 24 balls and after that nighmare of an over, it boiled down to 35 runs off 18 balls. Sreesanth’s next over started of with a six as Sohail Tanveer carted him over long on boundary. The penultimate ball of the over too went over the ropes of the square leg boundary. Sreesanth uprooted Sohails off stump with a yorker of the last ball of his spell, but the damage was already done.

Pakistan needed 20 runs from 12 balls.

Rudra Pratap Singh took over.

With the first 4 balls going only for 3 runs, Pakistan started feeling the pressure. They needed a huge hit and Umar Gul tried to provide one but in the process lost his leg stump to an yorker from RP Singh. Mohammad Asif arrived at the crease and promptly dispatched Singh’s last ball to the third man boundary.

13 runs needed from 6 balls.

I tried and controlled an excessive urge to rush to the restroom to relieve myself as I watched the final over by Joginder Sharma.

Misbah-ul-Haq smashed the second delivery of the over into the crowd for a six.

6 runs from 4 balls. 1 wicket remaining.

Joginder Sharma charges towards the wicket even as Misbah-ul-Haq scuffles across. The ball leaves his arm and hurtles towards the awaiting bat. Misbah scoops it towards deep fine leg wanting it to clear the boundary. The whole cricketing world follows through as it soars into the air like a phoenix.

The ball is stuck in the air awaiting its destiny

Frozen time thaws…

The ball drops in altitude, the camera follows through, a player in blue rushes in and the balls lands in his safe hands.

Hearts start beating again. Breathing resumes. Realization dawns.

India wins the Twently20 world championship!!!

HIP HIP HURRAY!

Jai Hind!