Matches (28)
The Ashes (1)
ILT20 (3)
Sa Women vs IRE Women (1)
NPL (1)
ENG Lions Tour (1)
Sheffield Shield (3)
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SMAT (16)

Tour Diary

Footloose in the Pink City

At Hawa Mahal, that most famous of Jaipur landmarks, in the heart of the district known as the Pink City, a procession straight out of a mini zoo held up traffic. There were two elephants, decked out in finery at the head, a clutch of camels behind them, and then horses, giving way to people on foot. They were celebrating – quite obviously and noisily, oblivious to the fact that they had brought traffic to a grinding halt – and part of the celebrations was some genius setting off firecrackers. One particularly loud boom, and the elephants had taken it enough, they began to backtrack, and the camels, fearing for their lives, followed suit, sending the whole procession into pandemonium. If he had scripted a scene to capture with his camera, Imran Khan, the West Indian media manager, could not have come up with something better.
Ever since he has been in India, his first time to the country, Imran has been taking pictures and posting them on his blog, named Blue Billion, after the cola advertising campaign that has caught the fancy of the nation, and has people yelling “Ooh aah India, aa-ya India” at matches around the country. He’s not the first foreigner to do that, and he won’t be the last, and already some of his pictures have ruffled feathers, with some Indians writing in to his blog complaining that he was only taking pictures of poverty and filth. Imran’s been around a bit, though, and it takes more than a few comments of this kind to deter him.
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Of evesdropping and private conversations

Dravid didn’t hide his disappointment when asked about the media “blowing up” what Chappell had told the team, telling them about how they “slouch” and “joke” and “loiter” and blah

There are two ways to look at Greg Chappell’s public dressing down of the team, on the even of the West Indies clash at Ahmedabad. Either, as Rahul Dravid suggested yesterday, the media were unnecessarily “evesdropping into a private conversation” or that Chappell actually wanted the world to know what he was saying.
Dravid didn’t hide his disappointment when asked about the media “blowing up” what Chappell had told the team, telling them about how they “slouch” and “joke” and “loiter” and blah. “It’s a very unfortunate incident when a private conversation between a coach and players were heard and used out of context,” he said. “People obviously haven’t understood what he was saying or what he was trying to say. I’ve played with 7-8 coaches and I haven’t heard anything different. It’s the times that we live in where everything is blown out of proportion. If people want to evesdrop on someone’s private conversation, so be it. That’s not what I would have done.”
But, irrespective of the times you live in, don’t you expect to be overheard when you’re just a few metres from the media? Or maybe the media needed to bring out their earmuffs and silently slink away, starting their own private conversations.
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Diwali aur naya saal mubarak

“Diwali aur naya saal Mubarak” is the one phrase you heard more than anything else in Ahmedabad when the cricket came around to the city the second time around in the Champions Trophy

“Diwali aur naya saal Mubarak” (Happy Diwali and a Happy New Year) is the one phrase you heard more than anything else in Ahmedabad when the cricket came around to the city the second time around in the Champions Trophy. It began with the taxi driver at the airport, continued to the staff at the hotel, reached fever pitch with Gujarat Cricket Association officials at the ground, and finally tipping point when an English cricket fan, who has traveled half the way round the world, pointed it out. “Even Tony Blair’s said it in his message, mate,” he said, putting his Union Jack away and cursing this state for being under prohibition. Alright then, saal mubarak to you too. He couldn’t be serious … Blair?
A quick check of the British prime minister’s press office reveals that he did indeed put out a message to his subjects on the day. “It is a time when the family is centre stage. An opportunity, more valuable than ever with the frantic pace of modern life, to reflect on what we have achieved - and on our hopes and ambitions for the future,” says the note. It’s a good thing he didn’t revisit that other Diwali theme – the victory of good over evil, as England had just been thumped by Australia and, for all practical purposes, been knocked out of the tournament.
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Incongruous City

Not long ago, Suketu Mehta wrote a riveting book on Mumbai and its underbelly and ever since, television channels reporting events in the metropolis are referring to it by the name Mehta gave it – Maximum City

Not long ago, Suketu Mehta wrote a riveting book on Mumbai and its underbelly and ever since, television channels reporting events in the metropolis are referring to it by the name Mehta gave it – Maximum City. It should surprise no-one if Mehta’s sequel – if he ever gets down to writing one – is called Minimum City. For in the same breath, it is both Maximum and Minimum, and the incongruity of it all came home at the Brabourne Stadium, when South Africa took on New Zealand.
While the stands were nowhere near full – no-one is even expecting that to happen but for high-profile India matches – there was a decent smattering of fans in the stands. The East Stand, the cheapest of the lot, where you had to sit on benches, in the full glare of the skin-peeling October sun, where gatekeepers wouldn’t let you out for a cigarette all day, the real faithful put in a stellar effort to watch cricket. In the stands to the left and right of the press box, where you paid up to Rs 5000 to occupy a plastic chair, and were mercifully in the shade, there was a good turn out.
At the far end of the ground, the Pavilion End, are the best seats in the house. Right behind the bowler’s arm, three magnificent floors of the clubhouse, give you pretty much the finest cricket viewing in the city. Naturally, there was plenty of clamour for that building before the game – with the press putting in an application to house the media facilities there. That would have meant the possibility of an airconditioned box, and comfortable conditions to work in. But the members of the Cricket Club in India would have none of it. They were up in arms to ensure that their rights were protected – am I the only one getting sick of that phrase? – and they got their wish. Even the ICC – which has boxes for its officials and for corporate hospitality – were kept out of the main pavilion – and housed instead at the top of the West Stand. The press were shunted to the Churchgate End.
And what happened when the match came around? The members of this great club were cooling their heels at home, or hard at work, or getting a manicure, or whatever else it is they do when there’s an international match at their ground. All three floors – where members and their spouses got in for free – were frustratingly empty, even as the public, who had shelled out good money, toughed it out in the other stands.
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