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It rained hard last
night and in the process further saturated the reputation
of the grandly named M.A. Chidambaram (MAC) Stadium, headquarters
of the Tamil Nadu Cricket Association and the Madras Cricket
Club - the other MCC.
And, as it happens, the MCC is my home for three weeks and,
somewhat unexpectedly, I have found myself cheek-by-jowl with
the upper pantheon of India cricket, headed by Saint Sanchin
Tendulkar himself.
The squad was divided into India Red, India Green and India
Blue and for four days the sides pitted themselves at each
other in day- night one dayers.
To the hardened cricket fan - which India offers several tens
of millions of - this competition was something of a contrivance
and a bit of a trial run for the ICC Championship international
series which begins later in the month - and to the north.
The problem for MAC is that it has a reputation for losing
good cricket time to the rain. It is plainly a jinx for Chennai
can go for weeks without rain, but put on cricket and the
heavens open.
Just outside the solid concrete circular stadium a small Hindu
temple valiantly tries to order things with the higher bodies
so that the game can get underway. And the day before a large
squad of police arrive to ensure the "bad characters"
stay away. It may mean something, or not, as the case may
be, but they locked up the MCC's member's area which had access
out to the pitch.
The ground has an aging resident dog, Manju, who spends his
days on the oval, watering it in key places and generally
trying to keep the crows from doing too much damage. He lies
down in the sandy ground (the stadium is a short distance
from Marina Beach) and eyes the crowd. The teams put on a
bit of a media show as Manju puts his head down and snoozes.
A partly paraplegic boy, unable to walk normally but given
to moving in a kind of crab like movement, shows up and works
out with the team, scuttling across the pitch to chase balls.
Several media outlets feature him in later reports.
The day of the first match brings in a decent crowd - although
far from capacity. Easily the biggest turn out is in the cheap
seats, facing the setting sun. They are loud and educated,
watching every ball and offering a noisy critique of ever
stroke played.
Chennai cricket fans get to see the giants of cricket and
warmly welcome the opportunity. Tendulkar's every movement
is followed and commented upon. He performs with seemingly
effortless fours and sixes and a couple of centuries.
In the members seats many children and teenagers fill out
places. For a group of teenage girls old hands like Tendulkar
are plainly not worth taking notice of. But certain young
stars looking toward them brings on loud squeals and excited
pointing.
Between overs the big screens show ads for the Tamil versions
of Bollywood movies - eliciting excited cheering from crowds
who plainly divide their time between cricket and films.
So much make-up cricket over the following days means fewer
spectators - although millions continue to watch it live on
television.
Last night was the final - between Blue and Red. Perhaps the
signs were already there when Tendulkar was out for a duck,
although teammate Virender Schwag knocked up an undefeated
90.
But by 5pm it was plain nature was going to have the last
word.
The heat had built during the day; it is so hot here now the
local newspapers are writing up temperature stories. The monsoon
is a week away or so. Preliminary thrusts are underway and
in the afternoon great clouds began forming over the city
and then, on sunset, unleashed a barrage. The opening raindrops
were surprisingly big and hefty. Early drops flicked up big
clods of earth and dust before everything began to get wet.
MAC, being of a simple nature, cannot handle rain like this.
Groundsmen - and lots of grounds women - got the covers out,
but on the stadium edge waterfalls formed off the roof and
the place was awash with water. The game was, in the end,
abandoned. Happily too the temperature dropped across the
city as the rain set in for the night.
Next morning though the sun was up, and the blistering heat
of south India returns. |
