Insight Edge | Aakash Chopra
I still vividly remember erupting in joy at the sight of that envelope which contained the invite for me to play at Lords. Oh! How incredible a proposition that was - Playing at Lord's wouldn't just stamp my identity as a cricketer but also reiterate my credentials, my existence, I'd mused. Like most Indians who take pride in being called 'Foreign Returned', I'd bloat in my new found status of 'Lord's Returned', I'd quipped. Yes, Lord's is to a Cricketer, what Old Trafford is to a Man-U fan, or what Centre court at Wimbledon is to a Tennis Player. These are hallowed turfs - one ought to earn the right to set foot here, and once you do, it leaves an imprint forever. And this was going to be my moment of honor.
It was supposed to be a six-a-side corporate event and every team was allowed to hire one professional to give it that much-needed edge, for Lord's can't be in the custody of absolute amateurs. Obviously, the standard of cricket wasn't great, but this visit wasn't just about Cricket, scores, or victories, but about something beyond all of that. Since it was a corporate event, the curator had cut strips on the sides to prevent both the playing square and accommodate more teams and matches. Although I realised it was done to protect the sanctity of the main playing square, for you must earn to bat in the middle. Cricket, at least for me, was a sideshow in that day-long event filling gaps between my visits to different parts of the ground. I must have explored every nook and corner to absorb the feeling of being there. The dressing rooms, the long room, the Nursery ground and the indoor nets at the back-even though most things were modern and up-to-date, it spoke volumes about a history that will always be cherished. Continue reading below
I could visualise Kapil Dev lifting the Prudential Cup in 1983, and Sourav Ganguly taking his shirt off in the balcony in 2002 along with many such moments that this ground had witnessed. I felt being a part of that glittering history. Just to put things in perspective, let me remind you that by then I had played for India and on some of the best cricket grounds, yet no place in the world could match up to the aura of Lords.
My second brush with Lords was for a competitive game between the team made up of cricketers from the associate nations in Europe and MCC. I turned up for Marylebone Cricket Club and for the first time realised how big it is for a cricketer to play there. Yes, you may call it the colonial hangover or blame it all on the purist in me - I'll take anything for my love for Lord's.
Since I played for MCC, I got to sit in the Home dressing room that had an 'Honors Board' with all the English players who had taken a 5-for or scored a century in a Test match innings at Lords. I knew a lot of those names, but I was searching for the names from my country and hence I dashed to Visitor's dressing room; Vengsarkar featured thrice, Ganguly, Azharuddin, G R Vishwanath among many others figured on the batting side while Kapil Dev, Chetan Sharma, Prasad, Chadrasekhar among others on the bowling side. I felt at least a couple of feet taller reading their names and remembering each one of their skills and flair.
Europeans won the toss and invited us to take first strike. The time I'd longed for had finally arrived. After putting on the pads, I took the flight of stairs down towards the ground, through the long-room and then the mini-stand built in front of the long-room and beneath the sightscreen, which is reserved for the MCC members and then onto the holy ground. I took each of those steps very slowly, secretly hoping the time to freeze or that moment to last forever. I still remember, quite vividly, every step from the dressing room to the ground. Even though it was a competitive match, unlike the one I played earlier, I didn't spare even a moment of thought about my game plan or the opposition. That's what Lords does to you. The prospects of playing on the square, standing at the far end watching the bowler running in with the redbrick pavilion in the backdrop consumes you completely. And then reality bites you, for you struggle to maintain balance while standing in the stance. You're either falling over (while batting at the pavilion end) or falling backwards (while batting at the Nursery end). However much you've heard about the slope and made mental notes of overcoming that, you find yourself ill at ease in the middle. To make maters worse, the ball also does unexpected things after pitching-the slope either takes it away or brings it in sharply. Suddenly, you find your judgment of lines evaporating and technique deserting you. All the romance and love you felt outside and also before taking guard turns into a nightmare in a flash, for there's nothing more disconcerting for a batsman than his utter helplessness at the craft he thought he had mastered over the years. Well, I didn't last long as I flirted with one that went away from me with the slope. But it's not always about the quantity of time you spend with your love interest but the quality of time. Most love stories end in heartbreak and mine was no different, but it was wonderful for the little while it lasted.
