There is very little in this world that gives me more pleasure, than to watch (or read about) this man play.
It is one of those days, when the sun does not need to shine. It is gloriously bright, alrite!!
Friday, January 4, 2008
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Spot the difference
Exhibit A:
Andrew Symonds:
Arguably one of the best all rounders in the world of cricket.
Treats the Indian bowlers like buzzing flies on a bum's plate.
Exhibit B:
A chimpanzee:
Often misrepresented as a monkey.
Scientifically classified as an ape.
Exhibit C:
The Mumbai cricketfans crowd:
Also known as retards in other parts of the country.
Astute observers of the game who have the matchless distinction of booing a man bearing the initials SRT on his home ground, among other accomplishments.
Andrew Symonds:
Arguably one of the best all rounders in the world of cricket.
Treats the Indian bowlers like buzzing flies on a bum's plate.
Exhibit B:
A chimpanzee:
Often misrepresented as a monkey.
Scientifically classified as an ape.
Exhibit C:
The Mumbai cricket
Also known as retards in other parts of the country.
Astute observers of the game who have the matchless distinction of booing a man bearing the initials SRT on his home ground, among other accomplishments.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Sunday, September 30, 2007
God bless..
One of the better things about living in this country is that one gets to see football of most kinds (and countries), and irrespective of the hour in the day.
Over the course of this month, there was another World Cup being played out.. in China, that was called FIFA Women's World Cup. It had caught my attention on its very first day when Germany walloped Argentina in an unanswered eleven goal riot. It only set up a tournament in which traditional football playing nations showcased what their women could do with a football, in a way as potent as their male compatriots.
Moments of brilliance did not elude this version of the game either, as the girls pulled out some of the most pleasing pieces of talent one could hope to see on a football field. There was one special moment in the quarterfinal when Cristiane (seen in the picture choking Daniela and Marta) stole the lead (and the game) from Australia.. that was pure magic. Images of a young Mickael Owen pecked one's mind when the not-so-young Martina Müller shot past the defense in the semifinals to deposit the ball into the net. It is a beautiful game, they say.
The World Cup had its Final today evening and it was only fitting to see the two best performers in the series making it to the grand stage. Brazil, quite assumedly joined Germany, with a little history waiting to be written.
Nadine Angerer, the brilliant German goalie had not conceded one goal throughout the series, and today, even the two most inimitable forwards in women's football could do nothing to change that. It was almost ironical that the Golden Boot winner, Marta missed the penalty to equalize on this day. Hands covering her mouth, she winced.. but only for second. Shaking her head, she moved away. Then clapped her hands together a minute later, urging her team for one more breakaway. It never came..
The Germans won, after one more goal. The stadium exploded in celebration, and animation presented some of its most delightful faces in their camp.
Amidst all the excitement and sheer verve around though, your eyes would often stop on one individual who seemed to wear a blanket of serenity.. probably one woven of content and reflection. I was introduced to Birgit Prinz through a football show a few weeks back as something of an embodiment of German women's soccer. She was that and a lot more in this World Cup. The picture here probably sums her up more than words could ever.
The night also saw some of the most heartbreaking scenes of the Brazilians after the 0-2 loss. A young team which played its heart out, giggling and almost dancing its way to the Final, only to come up one short.. and was left to wonder what a surrogate mother a game could be when you lose. It was one those moments you see in a game, when you wish there could be just one more winner. There is beauty in tragedy too, the Greeks say; may be today.
One team gloated and celebrated, most deservedly and quite fittingly. As another forgot to check the tears that rolled down their cheeks.
That is football, I guess. There is always a stage somewhere.. with a ball on the grass and people seeing meaning in kicking it around.
Over the course of this month, there was another World Cup being played out.. in China, that was called FIFA Women's World Cup. It had caught my attention on its very first day when Germany walloped Argentina in an unanswered eleven goal riot. It only set up a tournament in which traditional football playing nations showcased what their women could do with a football, in a way as potent as their male compatriots.
Moments of brilliance did not elude this version of the game either, as the girls pulled out some of the most pleasing pieces of talent one could hope to see on a football field. There was one special moment in the quarterfinal when Cristiane (seen in the picture choking Daniela and Marta) stole the lead (and the game) from Australia.. that was pure magic. Images of a young Mickael Owen pecked one's mind when the not-so-young Martina Müller shot past the defense in the semifinals to deposit the ball into the net. It is a beautiful game, they say.
The World Cup had its Final today evening and it was only fitting to see the two best performers in the series making it to the grand stage. Brazil, quite assumedly joined Germany, with a little history waiting to be written.
Nadine Angerer, the brilliant German goalie had not conceded one goal throughout the series, and today, even the two most inimitable forwards in women's football could do nothing to change that. It was almost ironical that the Golden Boot winner, Marta missed the penalty to equalize on this day. Hands covering her mouth, she winced.. but only for second. Shaking her head, she moved away. Then clapped her hands together a minute later, urging her team for one more breakaway. It never came..
The Germans won, after one more goal. The stadium exploded in celebration, and animation presented some of its most delightful faces in their camp.
Amidst all the excitement and sheer verve around though, your eyes would often stop on one individual who seemed to wear a blanket of serenity.. probably one woven of content and reflection. I was introduced to Birgit Prinz through a football show a few weeks back as something of an embodiment of German women's soccer. She was that and a lot more in this World Cup. The picture here probably sums her up more than words could ever.
The night also saw some of the most heartbreaking scenes of the Brazilians after the 0-2 loss. A young team which played its heart out, giggling and almost dancing its way to the Final, only to come up one short.. and was left to wonder what a surrogate mother a game could be when you lose. It was one those moments you see in a game, when you wish there could be just one more winner. There is beauty in tragedy too, the Greeks say; may be today.
One team gloated and celebrated, most deservedly and quite fittingly. As another forgot to check the tears that rolled down their cheeks.
That is football, I guess. There is always a stage somewhere.. with a ball on the grass and people seeing meaning in kicking it around.
Friday, September 28, 2007
The woman who wore bangles to court
So here I am going about minding my own business, checking mails, thrashing CD's.. when I literally choke on my wafers. (Yes, I have wafers for dinner). I had just seen the person I detested half of my adolescent life.
It was a moment of surreal nostalgia dipped in a single serving cup of retraction.
Long before the time when there were lifeguards in red bathing suits educating the viewers to the benefits of running along the beach on Star TV, we had tennis stars with headbands teaching us to stretch our sternocleido mastoids (ahem.. neck muscles, I was talking to a med student earlier today) on Doordarshan.
There were two reasons people watched tennis in those days (of Maltova and Dyanora TV ads fame); one.. in sheer amazement of watching something so yellowishly-green (later named florescent green by the yuppies) bounce around in varying trajectories while two people determinedly try to cease its motion, and two.. Steffi Graf.
Truth be told, Ms. Graf was the greatest tennis player ever to walk the tennis courts in a skirt. Long before the Henin backhand, there was the famed Graf forehand. The Asian markets had lapped up the German and a billion walls were dedicated to Sportstar centerspreads featuring the champion. Newspapers carried page long eulogies.. blah blah.
But I belonged to other half of the generation who had enrolled their faithful following in the school of double handed powerplay and loud grueling grunts. The woman who could not be beaten, was being challenged by a teenage prodigy (the original before the Barbie's walked in), quite successfully at that. Then one fateful day in '93, the competition was torn to shreds.
No one in their right mind would, however ever blame Graf for the unfortunate incident. But, it nevertheless robbed us of the greatest tennis player ever to walk the tennis courts in a skirt.
I hated Steffi Graf for the remainder of her career. (Remember the Austrian Grand Prix in 2002, when Barrichello let Schumi through in the final lap? Ah, similar emotion.. different context).
So, anyway.. here I was choking on my dinner, as I see Mrs.Graf endorsing pasta (my brand, at that) on television. I have nothing people against endorsing pasta.. in fact, I love pasta.. we could start a new religion, Pastafarians. But not her!!
What next, I 'd see McGrath out baring his teeth for Haldiram's Rasogollas?
Digression:
Anyway, let's examine the possible pastafarians in tennis.. get any of the following to endorse any flour food and you ve got this patron for life:
5. Flavia Pennetta: Pennetta is primarily a participant in many a duel with Henin Hardenne including the one when Italy won the 2006 Fed Cup, (inspite of her losing to Justine). Much attention was also begotten from the recent Sunfest Open in India.
4. Maria Kirilenko: Let's face it, one cannot look away from a blonde Russian with a tennis racquet. Another beneficiary of the Indian attention at the Kolkota open early this month. With Hantachova also present, Ana Ivanovic was the only one who missed the party. Pity!!
3. Silvia Farina Elia: During the usual rain delays at Wimbledon, the broadcasters often used to play the recorded matches on Court 3, 4 or some random low seeded encounters. Thank God for that, else one would never have got to see the Italian.
2. Martina Hingis: In the days when people looked for a face for women's tennis with a beacon and a bull horn, there was this magnificent young player who foreshadowed a career of greatness. And then imploded. Horribly tempted to say a Federer gone bad, but then that would be a good thing.
And the crowning glory goes to..
1. Gabriela Sabatini: I loved her. Still do. From those Hawaiin headbands and florescent pink racquet grips.. to the under the skirt returns, the Argentine was/is the foxiest chica of them all. As nominal as it may sound, but objectification is an infamy that the game has never spared the male (or female) audience from.
It was a moment of surreal nostalgia dipped in a single serving cup of retraction.
Long before the time when there were lifeguards in red bathing suits educating the viewers to the benefits of running along the beach on Star TV, we had tennis stars with headbands teaching us to stretch our sternocleido mastoids (ahem.. neck muscles, I was talking to a med student earlier today) on Doordarshan.
There were two reasons people watched tennis in th
Truth be told, Ms. Graf was the greatest tennis player ever to walk the tennis courts in a skirt. Long before the Henin backhand, there was the famed Graf forehand. The Asian markets had lapped up the German and a billion walls were dedicated to Sportstar centerspreads featuring the champion. Newspapers carried page long eulogies.. blah blah.
No one in their right mind would, however ever blame Graf for the unfortunate incident. But, it nevertheless robbed us of the greatest tennis player ever to walk the tennis courts in a skirt.
I hated Steffi Graf for the remainder of her career. (Remember the Austrian Grand Prix in 2002, when Barrichello let Schumi through in the final lap? Ah, similar emotion.. different context).
So, anyway.. here I was choking on my dinner, as I see Mrs.Graf endorsing pasta (my brand, at that) on television. I have nothing people against endorsing pasta.. in fact, I love pasta.. we could start a new religion, Pastafarians. But not her!!
What next, I 'd see McGrath out baring his teeth for Haldiram's Rasogollas?
****
Digression:
Anyway, let's examine the possible pastafarians in tennis.. get any of the following to endorse any flour food and you ve got this patron for life:
5. Flavia Pennetta: Pennetta is primarily a participant in many a duel with Henin Hardenne including the one when Italy won the 2006 Fed Cup, (inspite of her losing to Justine). Much attention was also begotten from the recent Sunfest Open in India.
4. Maria Kirilenko: Let's face it, one cannot look away from a blonde Russian with a tennis racquet. Another beneficiary of the Indian attention at the Kolkota open early this month. With Hantachova also present, Ana Ivanovic was the only one who missed the party. Pity!!
3. Silvia Farina Elia: During the usual rain delays at Wimbledon, the broadcasters often used to play the recorded matches on Court 3, 4 or some random low seeded encounters. Thank God for that, else one would never have got to see the Italian.
2. Martina Hingis: In the days when people looked for a face for women's tennis with a beacon and a bull horn, there was this magnificent young player who foreshadowed a career of greatness. And then imploded. Horribly tempted to say a Federer gone bad, but then that would be a good thing.And the crowning glory goes to..
1. Gabriela Sabatini: I loved her. Still do. From those Hawaiin headbands and florescent pink racquet grips.. to the under the skirt returns, the Argentine was/is the foxiest chica of them all. As nominal as it may sound, but objectification is an infamy that the game has never spared the male (or female) audience from.
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