Television turns a blind eye

Technology sucks. We rely on it for everything these days. As I was watching and typing simultaneously at the Challenger Series, my mind wandered between the shining green bowl of Wankhede Stadium and the dead grey screen of the laptop. And in doing this visual juggling act I missed the sweetly timed strokes of Robin Uthappa and VVS Laxman, who were trying to help India B stay in the hunt against India A.

Normally, in the cosy environs of the office the TV replays would allow me to see the shot execution from every possible angle. But, sadly, the Challenger Series, India's premier domestic one-day tournament, couldn't attract enough sponsors, and hence no TV coverage. And this in a country where cricket is a supposedly a religion.

But for the few hundreds who started filling the stadium as the evening drew in, the on-field action kept them on the edge of the seats. Once Uthappa and Laxman departed after showcasing their delectable array of strokes, the eager crowds got ready for the real show to begin as Virender Sehwag made his much-awaited entry at No. 4. As he started his walk to the crease, the old Indian rope-trick of clearing the dew was taking place. Soon he embarked on a more familiar rope-trick - clearing it at every opportunity, particularly when RP Singh dropped short.

During one tense moment, Sehwag went for a sweep off Murali Kartik. The bowler, and his team, appealed in unison. The batsman stood his ground. The umpire was confused. The journalists didn't have the television to make their decision. The umpire couldn't make up his mind, and consulted with his square-leg counterpart. The two officials gave the benefit of doubt to the batsman. Dravid was furious. Immediately he charged towards the umpires, demanding an exclamation. He knew it was a helpless situation. We knew it, too. Only if there was a TV. Sigh.

Another missed TV moment was the hop-skip-and-jump way in which Mohammad Kaif went through his innings. The ultra-fitness-conscious Kaif was a funny sight as he prepared for each ball in a fashion more reminiscent of the triple-jumper, Jonathan Edwards. Kaif has this habit of making a fashion statement wherever he goes on the field of play - his unique stance while batting and his knock-kneed stance while fielding in the slips.

Another missing factor, which my colleague S Rajesh put his finger on, was: no sponsor, no television, so no group hugs after each wicket. That kid who, in the advert, scuttles through a tunnel beneath the pitch and pokes his head into the middle of the huddle to deliver brown-sugary-carbonated refreshments to his heroes had apparently been given the day off.

Television has this ability to build a spectacle out of nothing. So it was quite unusual - and strangely frustrating - to view the game without the aid of that stupid box. In an age where computers rule our minds - and Ctrl-Z rectifies our errors - it was quite difficult to keep my sights clear.