Cricket and superstition

It is a relief that India won the Cricket World Cup. Had India lost, the die-hard Cricket fan would have lost all meaning in life. How many times in the past, has he come so close to winning the cup, only to see it slip away? It would have been difficult to stomach another loss.  Like Guru Dutt in the movies of yore, he would have wrapped a black shawl around himself, and leaving hearth and home, like a vagabond, wandered about aimlessly, with tousled hair, grimy face, and an ugly stubble. Disillusioned and dejected, his theme song would have likely been- “Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye…to kya hai…even if this whole world is gained…so what?”

Thankfully, such a predicament did not arise, and India won the World Cup. There is now a newfound spring in the steps and a peppy song on the lips! Such is the Cricket crazy fan- for him, India should win at all costs- even if it means following superstitions, that too, to the extreme.

A noteworthy superstitious Cricket fan is like Bheeshma- he takes a solemn vow not to watch the match! He sincerely believes- every time he watches the game, India loses! And to let India win, he will inflict self-pain and self-mortification, and deny himself the pleasure of watching the game, he loves most. Others reinforce the superstition. After India lost the ODI World Cup final last year, I got a sudden call from my friend. He had a pointed question, “Did you, by any chance, watch the finals?” Unwittingly, I said “yes”. Immediately, he flared up. “Who asked you to watch the match? Now, I know…why India lost!” My friend was so sure, that a particular individual watching the game, could influence the result, albeit negatively, overriding the prayers of 1.4 billion people in this cricket crazy nation!

Cricket and superstition go hand in hand. One type of superstition is called a “commentator’s curse”. The commentator has just praised the batsman to the skies. “A wonderful 50 from Virat! He is now batting ‘in the zone’; leave alone scoring a 100, this time, even a double hundred, is well within his sight!” Before he can complete the sentence, the next ball, Virat hits the ball in the air, and is out unceremoniously! The commentator is lucky not to be anywhere close to the cricket fan. He would have likely wrung his neck.

When a rival cricketing nation’s commentator praises our team, the cricket fan gets all suspicious and protective. The rival nation’s commentator is effusive in his praise, “Rohit is simply toying with the bowling here. India is coasting to a win!” The Indian fan is not at all pleased. He clicks his fists on the sides of his head and applies a black collyrium mark on the TV screen, to ward off the evil-eye! “I know this commentator very well. In his heart of hearts, he wants only his country to win. Never believe him! He is as though…praising India. It is with malicious intent, just to spook us, and snatch the victory from us. Never believe him! Never!”

In the days of yore, we watched cricket matches on the old vacuum tube TV. As the match progressed, the TV visuals had a bad habit of “shaking” from time to time. Someone at home was roped in, to slap the TV-top. Each time, you slapped the top of the TV, the shaking stopped. To our delight, two things happened in unison with the slap- the visuals were restored and to top it, the rival team lost a wicket. It was a perfect case of “kaaka-taaliyan nyaaya”- a crow sitting on a palm-tree and a fruit falling off at that exact instant! From then on, till the rival innings progressed, the slapper had only one job at hand. He must induce a wicket by pounding the TV from time to time, even if it meant breaking the TV, all with noble intent, of course!

Back then, grandma had to sit in the balcony for the entire day. Each time she stepped into the drawing-room, India lost a wicket. There was little choice, but to banish grandma. When Gavaskar was batting, you had to maintain the same pose sitting at the edge of the sofa. You denied yourself a restroom/bio-break too. You were certain, even if you, as much as stood up, Gavaskar would get out, and leave you totally high and dry.

Way back in the 1980s, I watched the “The Tied Test Match” on TV- India versus Australia, at Chepauk, Chennai, seated next to my grandfather. India should have won the game handsomely.  Suddenly, India lost wickets in a heap. India clawed back and the scores were now level. India needed just one run to win. Australia needed one wicket for a tie. Maninder Singh was the batsman. Will Maninder score that one run? I was sitting at the edge of the sofa. My grandfather, an earnest follower of the game, had a bad habit of calling cricketers with his own, unique, original pronunciation. "Manjrekar" became “manchurikaar” and "Maninder" became “Manendar”. “This Manendar fellow, I tell you, he will always score a blub (zero)!” grandfather commented. Lo and behold, the next ball, Maninder was out LBW. Australia rejoiced that they tied the match. For India, the tie looked like a heavy loss-it was a game India should have won.

I was angry with grandfather for a long time. I couldn’t tell him in so many words. India lost because of grandpa. If only, if only, he could have corrected his pronunciation. “It is Maninder Singh grandpa…Maninder Singh. Not Manendar...not Manender! Why did you have to say, Maninder will get out for a blub, grandpa?”