Of Andrew Symonds, and all that Jazz

So the Australian visit has finally ended, bringing to an end a rather acrimonious tour. Allegations of racism against Indian crowds is perhaps the legacy of this tour. As a person who has been in the crowd at the "infamous North Stand" at the Wankhede, I find these charges rather questionable.

Andrew Symonds may be the only black member of the Australian team, but that is not why he was so vilified by the crowds at Bombay. He essentially dug his own grave, and should have expected the reaction he got after his comments at the start of the tour. The Australians love playing mindgames with the opposition, often targetting the opposition's main man, in an effort to "mentally disintegrate" him. Rather grudgingly, Indians have learnt to deal with it, and accept it as a part of top level professional sport. However, the comments made by Symonds, seemed to go beyond that. His statement "We have had a very successful side and I think watching how we celebrate and how they celebrate, I think we have been pretty humble in the way we have gone about it. And personally, I think they have got far too carried away with their celebrations. It has definitely sparked passion inside of us. It has certainly spiced it up as well.", may have been intended as a psychological ploy to needle India - it worked. Unfortunately, he overstepped his bounds by targetting the celebration - which was none of his business.

I do not know about the crowds at Baroda, but the Bombay crowd is one that does not forget details easily. I'm sure they were out for Symonds blood the moment he made that comment, and giving them information that "monkey" chants hurt Symonds was tossing things from the frying pan to the fire. I do not believe that the crowd was trying to be racist - just getting their own back at a person who had invaded their turf. The Wankhede crowd, of late, has degenerated in its comments from the hitherto witty (Madhuri ka Bhai kaun?...Jadeja, Jadeja) to the downright unimaginative(xxx is a b***ard, aye-o aye-o). The reception Symonds got when he walked out to bat was something he should have expected, given that he has played in Bombay before, and he knew that the crowds there are hostile at the best of times. If he got out to a first ball duck because he was "affected by the crowd behavior", then he should either learn to curb his comments, or retire. To paraphrase Steve Waugh's words - "That's ODI cricket. If you want to take up an easy sport,try netball." Symonds could have saved himself the reception he got if he had apologized for his remarks before the game began - the Wankhede crowd would have still got after him, but would have tempered their aggro.

Apocalypse - II : Phoenix

It was the end of the workday. Like any other day, he stepped out of his building, on his way home. Suddenly, he felt the weather change. It was different today; a gigantic mass of cloud was swirling in the sky. The cold wind was howling through the grey, overcast heavens. There was an eerie feel about it. He could sense it around him.
The wind was now practically screeching, forcing the mass of cloud into a whirlpool. He walked on, partially hoping the eerie feeling would disappear from around him. Almost suddenly, the feeling was no longer around him…..it was in him! He could feel a change coming over him. His thoughts, usually clouded and uncertain, were now crystal clear, sharp, focused. His mind was occupied with one, pure thought – absolute and total evil. He could feel it flowing through his every vein, rippling from every sinew, as the last shred of morality was ripped away from his being. He cast a glance around him, the traffic was growing smaller. He looked above; the eye of the whirlpool was now coming closer to him, or, as he realized an instant later, he was growing closer to it. His body began to expand to gargantuan proportions, amplifying every merciless, evil thought in him. Now, his head was above the clouds, as his hair brushed the cool fabric of the eternal darkness above. The stars had stopped twinkling. The sun now burnt in one, never ending flame against the enveloping blackness. He glanced down at the pale blue dot beneath his feet. The planet that had given birth to him was now nothing more than a tiny, shrinking sphere. He cast his eyes around him, at his new home – the vast playground of space. He could now feel it, feel it within him – the symphony of a universe he had once helped create, a universe that was now calling him back – to take his rightful place, among the cosmic behemoths that had once created it, and now, would have to do it again…..