The Pride

“Sourav Ganguly, his life and times”. A movie should be made of this mysterious, enigmatic and special man in ten years’ time.

His reflexes gone, the bat-speed reduced, the magical off-side strokes now a rarity than the norm, the old warlord struggles on. He does not need to do this any more, he knows I’m sure. In his time, he had proved his detractors wrong time and again. He has modeled an India team in the image of himself – brash, outspoken, proud and plucky. He has carved a niche for himself, a large chapter (much larger in scale and scope than his merits as a player demanded) in the annals of Indian sport.

Why does he have to do it? why does he have to risk tarnishing his reputation by putting himself through a game built for people 10 years younger and 50% more fit and agile?

Yet he soldiers on.

….. he carries the reminders
Of every glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains

The fighter still remains.

The cliche was never truer. If there wasn’t a Sourav Ganguly, we would have had to invent him. And there would never be another.


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