A final swing of the pendulum

From Suraj, United Kingdom
When Shane Warne announced his retirement, it felt like getting shot. So I worried about how it would feel like when some of the greats of my own team, India, would leave: Dravid, Kumble, and God forbid, Tendulkar. One name I didn't worry about was Ganguly, which was surprising considering he is the reason I got into cricket in the first place. But then, after hearing of his announcement, I felt like I was shot again.

I didn't follow cricket much till the late 90's, preferring the speed and brevity of football. My dealings with cricket were limited to moaning about how often it was on, and smirking smugly when the match-fixing exposes occurred. I started watching India-Pakistan ODIs, because of the political animosity caused by Kashmir. But India were losing far too often, it wasn't a happy relationship.

Things started looking up at the 1997 Sahara Cup: Pakistan hammered 4-1, and the Man of the Series, quite emphatically, was one Sourav Chandidas Ganguly. I was suddenly more interested in cricket than I ever was, and things finally came to a head a few months later at the Independence Cup: the 3rd Final, a World-record run chase, last-ball finish (almost), Sourav Ganguly and Robin Singh valiant and victorious, and I was hooked onto this wonderful game for life.

I can still remember jumping around, pumping my fists sans fingernails, and wishing I hadn't watched the match alone. From then on I started paying more attention to the game, the beauty of good batting and bowling, Test cricket, and teams other than Pakistan. My regard for Sourav grew, though more thanks to his now-legendary captaincy than as a player. It peaked at the 2003 World Cup where India fluffed the chance to have the holy trinity of Indian batting forever cement their names on cricket's greatest prize.

Then things started to go wrong, reaching their nadir with the Chappell email fiasco. The picture painted of Ganguly was disgusting, exacerbated both its familiarity (thanks to Indian politicians and Government jobsworths: it was too easy to think of Ganguly sitting back and smirking 'Yeh mera raj hain'), and by the sense of betrayal it engendered: here was a man who had let power get to his head, and put himself above the team, the country and the game. I never thought I could forgive him.

As he performed his comeback, I started giving way, but grudgingly. The aura of selfishness, and the perception that he was playing for himself and not the team never went away. His sudden announcement has changed all that. Yes, this could all be murkier than we will ever know, but this very act betrays a magnanimity I didn't think he was capable of. The last Indian cricketing icon to leave the team was Kapil Dev, and he had overstayed his welcome massively. I'm glad Sourav isn't emulating him or that ex-head of his home state, Jyoti Basu. His legacy deserved the class of him knowing when his time was up. Adios Dada.