Be a sport

Have been in a very satisfied frenzy these past few days. Sporting encounters of all sorts are making one's ho-hum life all the more exciting.
To start with, the baby rebel Indian Cricket League has gripped me by the vitals on account of a certain Lahore Badshahs being part of the arrangement. This team takes one back to the wonder years of Pakistani cricket. Led by the big bear Inzy, coached by Moin Khan, and featuring all former Pak players I love, from Azhar Mahmood, Mushtaq Ahmed, Mohd Sami, Saqlain, Imran Nazir, Naved Rana, Hassan Raza, and so on and so forth. Why these brilliances were left out of the Pak national squad no one will ever know. And Pak's current dismal form is a result. So, the Lahore Badshahs are my favourites and the Lahore Badshahs are undefeated. First semifinal tonight v Kolkata Tigers. Who are going to lose!!!
And then. There's the football that's keeping us entertained. Not the bizarre American travesty where grown men wear body armor and tight pants and carry around a strangely-shaped object that they refer to as the ball. Tell me, whence foot and wherefore ball? What is wrong with those guys? The proper name of the game should be Running-Around-Handling-Leather-Thing. Eww.
Anyway, we're talking about the English Premier League AND the Champion's League. Weekends and weekdays accounted for. Man U sits pretty on top of the Barclay's board - with the even prettier Cristiano Ronaldo creating magic with Rooney. What eye candy. What legs. What fantastic skill. I love them.
Last night's Arsenal-Liverpool match was a ripper. Shame about the 1-1 draw, but Gerrard is really something else. What a game though! PS: Hleb should have been given a penalty, but the referee was really too far off and at a weird angle to see what went down. Hah. Bollocks! He was about ten yards away and had a ringside view, damn him!!! In a fair world, the final scoreline would have read Arsenal 2-1. "Fly Emirates!"
Onwards now. The Bahrain GP action starts tomorrow in the practice sessions. Hope floats on McLaren. Praying certain other teams go RED in the face after retiring/crashing/injuring pit crew and having mechanical problems.;) And that BMW continue their surprising good form. So far it's a McLaren-BMW one-two on the Constructor's. *stands up and applauds German engineering*
A little bit of tennis going on as well. Great Nadal-Blake match last night at the Sony Ericsson Open in Florida. Rafa looked down and out till the middle of the second set and then.... VAMOS! He was back, and took the match decisively in the third. Roddick-Fedex coming up too, though that's almost certainly going Fedex's way (however much people make a fuss about Roger losing his edge, that chink in his armour etc). To put things in perspective, Andy has lost 15 of the 16 times he's played Roger. Also, Serena-Kuznetsova match today. Serena, by the way, annihilated Justine in the quarters. Wha-hey!
Trivial Trivia: Uber-cool Boyd Tinsley of DMB (the violonist, duh) spotted several times at the Open.

Then. What else?
Oh, yes. The domestic sports scene. Since my brother Ozz is done with his II PUC exams, him and me make a formidable twosome as we head to the gym every night in our sports gear. We engage in great duels across a table-tennis table. It has to be said that Usman runs me over, destroys me, dances over my remains every night with cringe-inducing scorelines along the lines of "21 to nothing". That's number of games, not points. I have taken him to deuce only once. And have reached 18 or 19 on occasions I can count on the fingers of one hand. *Blush* Anyway, I don't care about that. "We play the game because we love it!" I mean to say, I really don't mind losing to him. I'm a loser.
On the bright side, you should check out my muscles now. Glutes that would make a sit-up champion envious. Streamlined calf muscles and biceps. Happy ache in tricep area. Working on abs and only time will tell. Love handles are fast disappearing. (And when I inhale deeply and hold my breath, I look quite something!)

And the movies I've been watching! Ruthie is my movie dealer. She has a kickass DVD rental shop near her digs and I go and get the latest movies from there. Plus she has her own sources for getting me unheard-of but very good Korean, Thai and other foreign language films. I'm on to a good thing here.
Acquired The Sea Inside yesterday, which is quite old. Must go watch now. Javier Bardem beckons.

Farewell, Inzy

And very extremely well done, and hats off and curtseys and a huge standing ovation. I [heart] you.


I know I'm going to miss this giant when I watch Pakistan play now on. (I know you will too, Boomsa.)
From 1991 to 2007, Inzy has enthralled cricket-loving fans worldwide. Thank God for Imran Khan who discovered the lumbering giant and stuck by him for the '92 World Cup, which Inzy was eventually instrumental in winning. And there's been no looking back ever since.

*wipes tears*




Here's the video of his final interview and the chokey scenes with his team after.
Loved it when he says in true Inzy style, "Thenk you, bwoiz."


Some articles from yesterday and today: Pak greats hail Inzy, Irreplaceable Inzy, SA's guard of honour as he stepped in to bat in his final match etc. Many more fitting tributes will come up pretty soon I expect.

Good going, Kapil

"The more things change, the more they remain... insane."
Michael Fry and T. Lewis, Over the Hedge

All the ongoing brouhaha about the new rebel league, the ICL, beats me. I think it's great that the aging, bureaucratic behemoth - no, no, not the UN; I'm talking about the BCCI- is finally being asked to pull up its socks and do a few rounds of the field to warm up for some competition. And that, a little outside the sphere of dirty politics and safari-suit-officials, good players from all over will get a chance to go out there and make a damn decent living out of the thing they are best at and love doing: playing the game.
When great names like Kapil Dev, Inzamam-ul-Haq and Mohd Yousuf are treated like so much short change and sullied in press releases, you know something's very wrong with the way things are being run. The BCCI and PCB are both behaving like sulky adolescents [and seem about as attractive] what with disregarding these names, lashing out at the players who opt to play for the ICL and the worst, the door-slamming routine all teenagers in angst demonstrate: disallowing these players to be a part of the national cricket team. The Big Boys have finally been caught doing what they were doing all these many years for the betterment of the game- nothing- and it's bloody embarrassing for them. Reaction: "Muscle power. Ostracize the rebels!" What ho.
Here's my question: If a player wants to associate himself with any number of organizations, to earn more and play more, why shouldn't he be able to?
It's no secret that the state of sports in India is quite pathetic, even the mothership of all games: cricket. Farcical selections, unprofessional training and ignoring real talent on flimsy grounds known only to the 'suits' in the Government-run boards is a regular story for aspiring but disillusioned sportspersons.
Why not let private, professionally-run leagues like the ICL enter the arena [not just cricket either. It would be great to see such leagues come up in all sports], create more playing and earning opportunities for deserving players and all of this at a very good economic compensation to both sides? Because in the end, of course the ICL is also going to want to make money. And probably will. Or, it won't.
In either case, let the games begin.

It's nice to see big names from international cricket jumping on the ICL bandwagon already. And 'nuff said about these players being old fogies or out-of-form-has-beens. I'd pay good money to see my proven favorites any day over the current crop of long-artificially-colored-hair-strutting-jewelery-laden cocky young 'uns who haven't proved anything yet except they somehow got in to the national team.
Here's a list of the has-beens I'm itching to watch play: Inzy, Mohd Yousuf, Razzaq, Lara, Fleming, Zulu. Hah.

This is the ICC's stand on the matter, by the way. Pretty sound, wot?