At the Ground

November 11, 2006

by Aparajith Ramnath

Reading about cricket always puts me in a good mood. Especially when the writing is top-notch, combining the evergreen qualities of literature with the warm glow of the sporting activity it describes.

Such are the entries in The Picador Book of Cricket, a book that I had heard much about but never read until recently, when I have been able to read some of the pieces in it.

Some of the writing about the pleasures of watching a cricket match led me to think about my own experiences of watching cricket live, in Chennai and in Pune.

The first first-class match I can remember watching was a Duleep Trophy match in Chennai (then Madras), at the MA Chidambaram Stadium at Chepauk, a ground which has been synonymous with high quality cricket for my generation (earlier generations saw some Test matches at the Corporation Stadium). I must have been younger than ten, but I remember clearly the experience of sitting in the Madras Cricket Club members’ pavilion, courtesy of a relative who is a member, and watching a Central Zone off-spinner bag a clutch of wickets against a West Zone team that featured, if I remember right, Vinod Kambli, Amol Mazumdar, and Sachin Tendulkar (though I think the last of these was not batting on the day). That off-spinner, Rajesh Chauhan, was selected to play for India soon after.

Watching Test matches was a step higher in terms of excitement. The cavernous stands at Chepauk with concrete roofs that helped to keep the sun out just a little, the colour in the stands, the chit-chat among neighbouring spectators, the Mexican waves that did the rounds every now and then – all these were new and stimulating experiences. I once saw a fellow spectator with a portable TV so they could catch the replays; years later when I saw my (so far) last Test match at the stadium, some of the stands had TVs mounted on the pillars, beaming live (well, almost live, there being a delay of about a second) action and replays. (The mammoth scoreboard at the Kumbhat Stand end of the ground, which used to have the players’ names and scores painted in bright yellow across a black background is now gone; in its stead stands an electronic replay-displaying scoreboard carted all the way from an Australian ground.) It was here also that I tasted first-hand the strange but palpable yearning of every spectator at the stadium to get his or her fifteen seconds of fame by being shown on television. There was much frantic waving of hands and witty banners whenever the cameramen turned his lens in our direction.

From there it was on to Pune. I don’t know if the Poona Club still hosts Ranji Trophy matches, but if it does, it must surely be unique in being a first-class venue with almost no seating for spectators – the only spectators being the ones in the club house. The ground itself was lush green, and its historical significance in being the venue of B.B. Nimbalkar’s famous 443 not out in years gone by made it glow a little more in my eyes. The sightscreen was a white cloth tied to a bamboo frame, quite unlike the Test match grounds where the practice of using sliding panels to use the sightscreen at the batsman’s end as an advertisement had already become established.

If Poona Club was the epitome of this dichotomous city’s ‘Camp’ or cantonment area, then Nehru Stadium was right in the middle of the more traditional ‘City’ area. This was where the one-dayers were played, and it seated thousands of people, though perhaps fewer than Chepauk. At this ground I did not have the privileged behind-the-bowler’s-arm view of the cricket, but watched the action from a shamiana-covered stand square of the wicket. The memories from here are not very detailed, except the way people rolled their paper caps into cones and shouted ‘oo-aa-oo-aa-oo-aa’ as the bowler began his run-up.

Watching the action on television just does not compare with the real thing. When you are at the ground, you can feel the speed at which the pacer hurls the ball, sense the quickness of the batsman’s reflexes, see the effort the fielder at fine leg actually makes when he sprints all the way to the square leg boundary. There is no commentary, and so you are closer to the players. You see things as they see them. You feel the heat they feel. You glance up at the scoreboard just as they do. When the twelfth man runs up with a bottle of water, you, sitting in the stands, reach for your own. Now which channel can top that?


6 Responses to “At the Ground”

  1. Goyal Says:

    That is the next book on my list. Almost about to complete Beyond A Boundary. The section on WG Grace is so great.

  2. Ojas Says:


    Yes, Poona club is still the same. Though even I dont know if they host Ranji matches. I have enjoyed watching quite a few matches there, with hot, juicy tandoori chicken on platter and that beautiful weather.. thanks for bringing the memories back!

  3. Sports Snob Says:

    Nice Article.
    The Piacdor book is a lovely collection of cricket writing: J.H.Fingleton, CLR James and their ilk.
    And having watched a few matches at Chepauk, I know what you mean about the fifteen seconds of fame. Nothing matches the pleasure of watching the match at the stadium, the crowds, the players so close to you. But then, the stadia aren’t really that comfortable on most occasions and when there is that stunning catch or delivery just as you are talking to a neighbour, you do want that TV screen and the giant screen at an accessible location to catch that piece of cricket. Television doesn’t quite give the experience, but then that isn’t what they are selling, is it?

  4. pavilionseat Says:

    Sports Snob,

    Yes, the TV-bred mind is so thoroughly programmed to expect slow motion replays that it still looks for them when at the ground. Of course, it gets them these days.

    And yes, TV can only approximate the experience of being at the ground, though I suppose it has a different set of advantages, such as the more detailed information and statistics it provides. What I suppose being at the ground reminds us of is that the game is not as easy as it looks on TV!

  5. Sports Snob Says:

    Agree to the fact that it is seems easier than it is, owing to television coverage. I used to believe facng Shoaib Akhtar and turning the ball more than Murali (without chucking, ofcourse) were quite easy, when I watched the match.

  6. rynties9 Says:

    Not a good combination, if you never took the two before you might fall out and go to sleep, very, very quickly. Yes I have taken the two before. A good combo if you want to ruin your entire afternoon. buy brand in the united states
    order onlines 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: