Some dreams do come true

All good things do come to an end. I’d heard this adage many times, and I have seen it come true in ways big and small. There were times I did not realise that something wonderful would come to an end. In my naivety, I took them for granted. And when those times would come to an end, I’d realise suddenly what I have lost. At times, what I’d lost was irrevocable and the loss of it has left voids that would never be filled. The greatest grief has been the fact that I had taken those times, those people, those moments as a given. I never believed it would end.

I was away from home, staying in a different city, a carefree student. There was a phone call for me in my institute’s canteen, and I was called to attend it. I was playing table-tennis at that point of time. I walked out of the room to take the phone call, with my TT bat and the TT ball in hand. I was leading 19-12 (I remember the score clearly) and did not want anybody to take my place on the table, so I took the ball away while going to attend the phone call, and did not realise that moments later I would be told on the phone that my grand-father had left me for ever.

I do not remember what I did after I heard of it. I thought of the walks with him during my vacations, the way he would want me to study hard but play harder. But most of all, I thought of the wonderful stories he had told me, the unparalleled stories about people and life that this grand-child had heard sitting on his Dadu’s knee. He was is the greatest person I knew and never did it cross my mind that he would be taken away.

Many such great things came to an end. I finished my studies, and my days as a student came to an end. Till some time back, I stayed with my parents & my brother in the most beautiful house in the world but those days came to an end as well. Till 2006, I worshipped a sportsman more than any other and he retired.

What was common to all these ends was that there was always a new beginning. Three years after Dadu left us, Didi had a baby boy. In Rishi I saw, and still see, the everthing that is beautiful on Earth. When I left home, I formed a family with a bunch of people who had left theirs. We formed a bond for life, the kinds that I have with my folks. When my days as a student were over, I started a wonderful life as a working professional. I met new people and made some more wonderful friends for life. Along the way, I fell in love and then fell out of love to fall in and out again.

All of this made me realise that sometimes an end is a new beginning, though not always is the end linked to a new beginning. I realised that almost all voids can be filled. But even after being filled, I kept (and still keep) dreaming that I would be given back a few moments of my past. I dream of spending an afternoon with both Rishi and Dadu in tow. I keep dreaming that my house and my hostel are a 100 yards away. I dream that my friends from school, college and MBA are also working in the same organisation along with my new friends. And, I dreamt since 2006 that Schumi races again… just once.

All of my dreams were impractical and improbable, mostly impossible. Dead people don’t come to life, days gone by do not come back and inhabit with the days we are living. And sportsmen usually do not come back to active duty at the age of 40. Out of the scores of dreams, one dream has come true. Michael Schumacher will race again. I don’t know if he will race like the world beater that he was, but what I do know is that he will make me live my dream.

Once again I will wear the scarlet shirt. Once again I would wear the cap with the 7 world championship stars, once again I will say a silent prayer as Schumacher lines up at the starting grid, and once again I will scream “Go Schumi” at the top of my voice when he roars off the starting line. Maybe, I’ll also jump for joy if he wins.

And after all this is over I’ll still dream of walking in a park with my nephew in my lap. I’ll point at a rose to and say that “this is a crimson rose”, and while saying this I’ll turn to my right and tell Dadu “you remember, you told me about a crimson rose when you told me the story of The Nightingale & The Rose by Oscar Wilde?” The Schumi dream has come true so maybe this dream would also come true, just maybe……

There was a winner, and I didn't see a loser

Sport teaches. It enriches. And this isn’t restricted just to the people who play it, this extends to the people who watch as well, in fact the followers learn more. As I watched yesterday’s Wimbledon men’s singles epic final culminate to Federer lifting his 15th Grand Slam, a message was re-emphasised to me. The message was that in sport there is always a victor and a runner-up, but never a loser. This is not shown by a way a sportsman plays, but by the way the sportsman behaves after ending 2nd best. That is what Andy Roddick showed yesterday.

Roddick was the better player in the final, who never looked like his serve would be broken. Well, Federer won because he knows what it takes to be a champion, that he needs to stick around. He won because he hung on, because he refused to be a runner-up, because the grabbed the slightest opening (the only one in the whole match) that came his way. He did not win because he was the better player, for that was Roddick.

I cast my mind back to 2006. Michael Schumacher was racing like a dream, in Japan. It was his last season and he was fighting Alonso for the title. More than any of his fans he wanted to sign off as a world champion, for Michael Schumacher could never accept defeat. Then the unthinkable happened. His reliable Ferrari engine blew, with Schumacher leading the race, and with the engine went his chances of ending as a world champion. He’d never ever regain it. I thought that I’d see Schumacher walk out of the car disappointed, dejected, and walk into the Ferrari garage. After all, for no fault of his a championship, that was his for the taking, had gone away.

But there was a different script being written. Schumacher stepped out of his car, had a smile on his face. I don’t know what emotion hid behind it, but he was waving to the crowds as he walked back to the Ferrari pit, saying goodbye and thanking people. The Ferrari pit was a picture of dejection. The engineers and crew were heartbroken, because they had let Schumacher down at such a crucial juncture. But Schumi walked up to every one of them with a smile and hugged them all, consoling them. It seemed that he told them ‘forget about today, what you have done over the last 6 years is immeasurable. What happened today is a part of sport’.

As I saw that bit of magic unfold, this heartbroken fan learnt a lesson. That I should thank Schumacher for winning 7 championships and 91 races and not feel bad because he’s lost this one. The heart did not seem that broken then. I saw on screen a man who didn’t win, but who by no means was a loser.

A bit of that magic unfolded on Wimbledon’s centre court yesterday. Roger Federer walked all over centre court, carrying his trophy. In his corner, quietly sat the valiant Roddick. Teary eyed, with the runners-up plate, wondering what went wrong, but there was a difference. With those teary eyes he was looking at Federer parade and Roddick was giving his conqueror the most generous applause. It was genuine, it was dignified, it was tragic, and it was magical. He wasn’t moping and grumpy. He took his defeat like a sportsman. He lost to a man who did not play better tennis than him, but that did not stop Roddick from applauding one of the greatest feats in modern day tennis, 15 grand slams.

Maybe, Roddick’s day in the sun will come. Perhaps he would be a champion one day. He taught me the old lesson sport has been teaching me since forever, that why a defeated sportsman is not a loser. Maybe, he's a champion already...

Does the world need Superman?

The world of sport has had its share of greats and a large collection of all time greats. They have had the world at their feet at some point or the other. Then, in every sport, came a sportsman or a team that did not seem from this world. It looked like Kal-El’s planet sent more than just one Superman to the earthly world of sport. Their performances thrilled and delighted. But they just kept getting stronger and stronger. So much so, that they almost killed the sport they were excelling in. While the world watched them in awe, a certain thought crossed the minds of the followers of sport: Why do we need to watch? We know who is winning!

Does the world need superman? This thought crosses my mind far too often. Sometimes I think, yes, sometimes, a resounding no. The truth, however, lies somewhere in between. Let me take you thru my confusion for a bit. Roger Federer is a superman. The only Grand Slam that he hasn’t won is the French Open. After beating Nadal in Hamburg, Fed has announced his intentions and stamped his form loud and clear. We know there’s no beating him at Wimbledon, Flushing Meadows and Melbourne. Only the red clay at Roland Garros acted as Kryptonite for Roger Federer. It seems that superman has started becoming immune to kryptonite too.

Yes, Federer deserves to win the French open and join Laver & Budge as a winner of all four slams. But after that we might see, for quite some time, only one smiling face at the end of each slam. The story was so similar with Lance Armstrong and the Tour De France. The story was so similar with a Michael Schumacher from 2000-2004. My goodness me! Schumi almost killed the sport in 2002 and 2004. Such was his dominance that Simon Barnes wrote a column titled: Michael Schumacher, The serial winner who murdered Formula One. He wrote there, "He is one of the great serial champions of all time and he killed his sport with his brilliance, murdered it with the thousand cuts of excellence". Simon Barnes went on to further add "the most exciting thing in Formula One is the question of when Schumacher is going to stop for petrol."

That was so damn true. Fans like me loved Schumacher winning, but even his die-hard lovers like me would agree that we enjoyed the 2006 season a lot more. And no, we never wanted Schumacher to retire. But now that he has, the sport has had a breath of fresh air. For the first time in many years, there are 4 drivers that look like taking the drivers’ championship. Who cared if there was scope for 4 drivers coming 2^nd in the championship? Now that Superman is gone, earthlings can compete.

Cricket has gone thru this twice. With the Windies in the 70s and 80s and the Aussies in the 2000s. We all knew who’d win the cricket world cup this year even before it began. Such a fantastic team deserves to win whatever competition they participate in. But would others want to watch supermen take on earthlings again in flying contests? But then, does this mean we wish for the champions to stop playing for the sake of the sport? Well, yes and no.

Like I said earlier, the answer lies somewhere in between. We need others to play as well as Superman. Be it a Rafa/ Roddick to counter Federer, the superman of tennis; we finally found somebody to take on the superman of F1, Schumacher, 5 years after his ruthless dominance, Alonso; we also need some teams to stop the supermen of cricket, Australia. We are lucky chaps. We have seen the best of almost every sport in our lives. But, for the good of the sport the world needs to see superman stopped.

Till that day comes, let us celebrate something unique. Let us celebrate those who have taken their sports to a different league. Let us celebrate these supermen who have given us so many moments of joy, pride, and awe. Lastly, for Federer, all the best superman. Conquer kryptonite at Roland Garros. How I wish that you win, and how I wish that you are beaten. You deserve to win, but then, if you do, at Wimbledon, we’d be cheering your opponent every time you miss your first serve and every time you hit an unforced error. And if your opponent wins a game, forget a set, we shall give him a standing ovation. Those are the only small things they’ll win. You are going to take the Championships anyway.