FOUR

Team India vs Alien XI

PART I
Stadium seen more human beings. Officially, the stadiums
capacity was 35,000, but on that day more than 60,000 people squeezed themselves
in, sharing chairs, standing cheek by jowl in the aisles, climbing on to roofs, hanging
off trees and perching on anything that offered a view without toppling over. It was a
glowing testament to the archetypal mantra every Indian swears by, jugaad.
NEVER HAD WANKHEDE

Never did the crowd have so much fun either. Wearing tricolour warpaint on their
faces, the fans sang, danced, waved placards, cheered wildly or simply screamed at
the top of their voices. The aliens had their supporters too, put it down to
contrarianism or the inclusive spirit of India. A bunch of youngsters wearing green
warpaint and dressed like Shrek jumped around wildly, hooting like lunatics and
attracting more than their share of camera attention. Every now and then the IPL
horn would blare out, sending a fresh roar reverberating around the stadium. The DJ
did his bit by playing blockbuster Bollywood songs and evergreen Hindi classical
numbers such as DJ wale babu mera gana chala do.
The cheerleaders podium near the Vijay Merchant Pavilion attracted a fair number of
eyeballs as well, although there were no skimpily dressed white women performing
energetic dance moves. Instead, a skimpily dressed Baba Ramdev with two of his
followers enthralled the crowd with incredible yoga poses.
Up in the Grand Stand, in the air-conditioned VIP box, amidst a dozen security
personnel, Prime Minister Modi sat chatting with the alien commander. He was
dressed for the occasion, pairing a Number 56 Team India jersey with aviator shades
and a floppy white hat. Qaal-za on the other hand was dressed plainly in his usual
dark green fatigues.
The prime minister was in his element. He conversed animatedly with his guest,
pointing out this and that in the stadium, and occasionally breaking into a guffaw at
something the commander said. At a calculated moment, PM Modi broke from the
conversation mid-sentence, looked beyond the commander and began waving. A
split second later, the big screen cut to the VIP box and zeroed in on a smiling Modi
waving to viewers. A loud cheer went around the stands. The alien commander
looked momentarily disoriented, wondering what the buzz was about, until Modi
pointed out the camera to him. The commander duly smiled and waved.
To Modis right sat Indias Team Director Ravi Shastri, wearing a dark suit and his
trademark shades.
Electrifying atmosphere, isnt it, Narendra? The noise is deafening and the crowd is
on its feet! All three results are possible today, he remarked in his familiar baritone.

While PM Modi wrestled with a suitable response, Rajiv Shukla, sitting to the alien
commanders left, leaned towards him and broke into an oily smile. You look esuperb today, Commanderji, he said to the nonplussed alien.
Meanwhile, on television, the commentators took over.
Good afternoon to all our viewers. Welcome to Amul Kools Team India vs Aliens XI. I
am Harsha Bhogle, your commentator, on what is a wonderful day to play cricket!
Clear blue skies, world-class venue and a packed stadium. You cannot ask for more!
Joining me today in the commentary box is Sunny Gavaskar and popular news
anchor, Rajdeep Sardesai. Terrific day, isnt it, Sunny?
Absolutely, Harsha, said Sunny. For the first time ever in the history of mankind, a
human team and an alien team are taking each other on in a game of cricket
powered by Amul Kool. Which other sport could boast of this?
Yes, what a wonderful advertisement for the game of cricket! said Harsha. Rajdeep,
glad you could join us for this momentous event.
Thanks, Harsha, chirped Rajdeep. We have an extremely important event tonight,
gentlemen. The big question tonight is, Is there still a Modi wave? If the aliens win,
that would mean that the Modi magic is no longer working in this country. If the
aliens lose, that would be one more example of why, under Modi, India is no longer
the tolerant nation that welcomes minorities with open arms.
Harsha and Sunny looked lost for words for a few moments. Harsha recovered first.
Er . . . all right, lets head over to Sanjay Manjrekar for the pitch report. Over to you,
Sanjay!
The camera cut to the pitch where Sanjay Manjrekar and Rameez Raja were standing
with a microphone in their hands.
Thanks, Harsha, great day for cricket! Packed stadium, great atmosphere! I have
Rameez Raja here with me. Rameez, what do you think about the pitch?
Rameez Raja went down on one knee, placed a thumb and forefinger on the pitch
and looked up at the camera with a knowledgeable expression that comes with the
experience of bullshitting at a hundred such pitch reports.
It seems to be a typical subcontinent pitch, Sanjay. Looks nice and flat for the most
part. A few cracks here and there, but overall, looks extremely good for batting.
Yes, Rameez, Sanjay chipped in. But the bowlers arent completely out of it either.
Remember that Mumbai is on the coast, and the Wankhede is now an open stadium,
which means because of the humidity and the breeze, bowlers might find some
swing in the air. But once a batsman is set, theres no reason why he shouldnt be
able to score.
I agree, Sanjay. Also, there might be a bit of dew in the latter half of the match,
which might make the ball skid on to the bat.
. . . besides making it slightly difficult for the bowlers to grip the ball.

Exactly, said Rameez Raja, getting back to his feet.

And what about spin, Sanjay? Do you see any turn in this pitch?
Well, there might be some turn after the first few overs. But it is likely to be slow
turn, which is unlikely to trouble the batsmen too much.
Rameez Raja turned back to the camera and chuckled expertly. Well, that isnt going
to please Ravi Shastri one bit. But then we know nothing about the strengths and
weaknesses of the aliens. For all you know they might be good spin pla . . . gluggggg
...
At this point, Rameez Raja was abruptly cut off because three men wearing saffron
scarves and carrying Shiv Sena flags were smearing blank ink all over his face.
Go back to Pakistan! they hollered.
Rameez Raja dropped the microphone and took off squealing towards the pavilion
with the three Shiv Sainiks chasing him and the crowd cheering them on. Manjrekar
gawked at the spectacle for a few seconds, before reluctantly turning back to the
camera.
Well, thats the pitch report. Back to you, Harsha.
***
Team Indias dugout wore an air of restless energy. The boys stretched and jogged
intermittently, waiting for the call to step on to the field. Team Director Ravi Shastri
came walking towards the dugout to deliver the mandatory pep talk.
Bring it in, boys, he said. The players converged in a huddle. All right. If we need to
win, we need to play well. Make no mistake, this is a pressure cooker situation, and I
just get the feeling that its going to go all the way down to the wire. The next few
overs could be crucial. We need to outplay them in all three departments of the
game. So flash and flash hard, take the aerial route and give them the full monty. Got
it?
The players nodded sincerely.
Okay, boys, have a great game! said Shastri, and turned to climb up the stairs
towards the VIP box. The players watched him go and when he was out of earshot,
M.S. Dhoni removed his earplugs, as did the others.
All right, bring it in, said Dhoni, and the players converged once again. I know
everyone is expecting a good result, but it is important to focus on the process
rather than worry about the result. At the same time, we have to find the best
solution for different situations. We have to try a few different things because if you
are doing the same thing, you will get the same result. Whether we like it or not, this
is the team we have, and we have to make the best of it. So go out there, enjoy the
game and, most importantly, focus on the process. Got it?
The players nodded and the huddle loosened. Clapping enthusiastically, Dhoni
crossed the boundary rope and loped on to the field. The players pretended to run

after him, but really just jogged in place. When Dhoni was sufficiently afar, they
removed the second pair of plugs from their ears and turned to Virat Kohli.
Kohli raised a knotted fist in a gesture as old as time.
Maa ch**d do s**lon ki! he bellowed.
The players pumped their fists and roared. Then, led by a growling Kohli, they
stormed into the playing arena.