Reality Continues To Ruin My Life

Crash! Bang! Thud!

I’ve been brought down to the ground. Two days ago I had gloated over Australia’s exit from the World Twenty20 and their apparant inability to adjust to the shortest format of the game. Today, here I am, confronting the reality that the team that I support, the World Champions, haven’t been doing a great job in Twenty20 cricket either. To borrow a phrase from our dear friend Calvin, “Reality continues to ruin my life.”

pathanIndia were the pre-tournament favorites, with every opposition captain calling them the team to beat. However, two straight losses in the Super 8 stage have sent them packing. I’d be lying if I said the losses didn’t hurt. But, what hurt more is the kind of teams India lost to. Losing to Australia or South Africa would have been acceptable but what rankles more is that we lost to West Indies, a side that has been in terminal decline since the time Viv Richards retired and  the Poms, a celebrated bunch of whining underachievers.

On paper, India had a very strong batting line up, with some massive hitters of the cricket ball. On paper, the bowling was incisive too. More importantly, all these players were ‘Twenty20 hardened’, having gone through the grind of the IPL. So, what went wrong? Where did we lose? How? Continue reading

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Apologies to William Blake

Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the suburbia of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Did frame thy fuzzy, cuddly symmetry?

Oops! Sorry Mr. William Blake. I’ll be more careful in the next stanza.

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine appetite,
Calvin thinks he can scare them all
Alas, eating fat children raises fears of cholestrol.

Oops, I did it again. Guess this is not the tiger that William Blake wrote about, is it?  Absolutely not. Before the more literary ones amongst you charge me with heresy and condemn me to burn on the stake, let me tell you that the tiger here is Bill Watterson’s Hobbes. I want to clarify upfront that the lines above have not been written by Bill Watterson. I take sole responsibility for this trash, which I have tried to pass off as poetic excellence. Although, I can take credit for writing lines which rhyme, can’t I?

I am sure Calvin would have loved Hobbes to be like William Blake’s tiger – with lusty sinews, fiery eyes, mandibles of death and razor sharp claws. Hobbes has always disappointed Calvin on this count. He refused to eat Moe, saying that fat children have cholestrol. He also refused to tear Susie apart and instead let her cuddle and kiss him, much to Calvin’s chagrin. Continue reading