From Neeraj Narayanan, India

Fifty and counting © Getty Images

For years, almost 21 now, writers have been obsessed with Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, his scores, his chaiwala, his voice, groin, his humility and the joy he has given to millions people around the world. Maybe it is time someone talks about what Sachin denied to several people, unwittingly of course. It is my faithful and sincere attempt to capture some of those atrocities he committed.

To Rahul Dravid: The tag of the greatest Indian batsman of the 90’s and ‘00s, arguably forever. The poor man completed 12,000 runs the other day and is the third in the list of the all-time highest run-getters. Yet, not a word of mention anywhere!

To pretty Anjali, in her teens: The shallow pleasures of being courted by the neighbourhood boys.

To an entire generation of youth: Logic, as they steadfastly believed that India would win the match (every time), simply because he was out there, however ridiculous the odds. It is he who is solely responsible for deluding the whole of the young Indian male brigade, just like that Pathan called Shahrukh who misled the same populace into believing that any girl would fall for them as long as they had a shred of sincerity in their hearts.

To his colony: Any concept of privacy.

To writers who started out in the 2000s: Any original thought, since everything about him had already been written.

To anybody who ever happened to be the second wicket to fall for India: Applause from the crowd. Actually, they did applaud and cheer vociferously, but only because Sachin was walking in. Ask Dravid how it feels.

To Damien Fleming: Any feeling of succour, on his 28th birthday. Incidentally, it was Sachin’s birthday too, the 24th of April. The final of the ’98 Sharjah Cup, Sachin smote anything that came out of an Australian hand to the fence, as India chased down a formidable 272 to emerge champions.

To Coca Cola: A million drinkers. They really couldn’t take to that, when Sachin was drinking Pepsi, eh?

To me: Any money at the end of a cricket World Cup. Every four years, when the World Cup would commence, my family would set up a betting pool of our own, each contributing a princely twenty rupees. The person who would correctly guess the winner of the would get the whole sum at the end of it. Sadly, my love for him never let me place money on any other team and I lost hundred bucks from ’92 to ‘07. I never learnt.

Twenty-one years, boyyo! Curly hair to short hair, Boost to Pepsi, a decade of losing overseas, a World Cup final heartbreak, an ODI double-century, thousands of critics, we saw it all together. Twenty one years boyyo, and fifty centuries later, I still remember our first date of ’89.

P.S - The Narayanan family is rich now, and has raised the stakes. Each one places hundred bucks this time. Of course I will win back all the money I lost, in two months from now, when he scores a century at Wankhede and trounces the Aussies!

From Brad Hinds, Australia

Almost the same age but their careers appear to be heading in different directions © Getty Images

In the space of little less than half a year, the two most senior Australian cricketers will have reached the mortal age of 36; Ricky Ponting already has, and Michael Hussey next May. It's an interesting time for these two batsman – both who have accumulated many accolades – especially as Australia traverse into a territory where they are no longer as dominant as they were several years ago; and where they must cement themselves once more with a core group of talented young players. The Ashes series may very well be the last hurrah for these two particular batsmen, and in light of that looming possibility, it has been interesting to witness the manner in which both Ponting and Hussey have individually gone about their performances out in the middle.

For Australia, much of its success is supposed to be attributed to the way in which the top order can establish a solid foundation by which the middle order can capitalise and the bowlers draw upon. Particularly, many eyes center towards a side’s captain, especially in a series as important as the Ashes, to help lead that attack with confidence and positivity. But for Ponting, he’s been able to achieve none of that so far in the first three Tests, where he has scored only 83 runs across six innings at an abysmal average of 16, boosted by a single half-century during the second innings at the Gabba. It's a stark contrast to the man who scored 568 runs in the 2006 Ashes series with a top score of 196 followed by a 142. It is also a very depressing outcome.

There is little doubt that Ponting’s decline has been in progress for several years now – incidentally mirroring Australia's own decline in the international rankings – but it is disconcerting to see Australia’s greatest run-scorer capitulate at home with as many accomplishments as he has earned. It is also rather surprising. Several months ago, during Australia's tour of India, Ponting was by far the team’s best batsman. He played in those two Test matches as well as he ever has throughout his distinguished career with three consecutive scores of over 70. But time is running out for Ponting. At the age of 36, the curtains are close to closing, especially if his persistently poor form perpetuates any further. With the Ashes at stake, he also faces being branded by a terrible legacy; the first Australian captain to lose an Ashes series at home in almost 30 years and, more harrowingly, to lose three Ashes series in over 120 years.

Despite what his numerous naysayers might say, Ponting is not deserving of such a tarnishing legacy. It’s hard to pinpoint where exactly he is going wrong in the area which he prizes above all else – a combination of rotten luck and an aging and weary mind bogged down by the pressures of captaining a declining side where talent is not consistently pulling through. It is interesting to note that for many batsmen who have carried the captaincy have found themselves in prolonged slumps that have raised question marks and uncertainties about their place in the side. Sachin Tendulkar is experiencing the best form of his life – at the age of 37. Perhaps it would be a wise decision on Ponting’s part to consider that move as well. As a specialist batsman at No. 3 or 4, he could very quickly turn his fortunes around with a much clearer mind and a more cheerful disposition.

With that in mind, he need look no further than Hussey, who has come from death’s door and experienced what can no less be described as a transformation. It is interesting to compare the two batsmen – where they have come from in the past 18 months – and to see their performances today. Four years ago, in the 2006 Ashes, the two of them were Australia’s top two run-scorers. Today, only one of them shows any signs of that destructive form. Whereas Ponting came from a relatively stable and positive position from India not too long ago, Hussey has suffered from a prolonged slump in form over the past 18 months that very recently resulted in his batting average dropping just below 50 for the first time in his career. Indeed, his place within the side was so tenuous that he was lucky to have made the squad for the starting Test in Brisbane. He went on to make 195 – the highest score of his career – in Australia’s first innings. It very much set the tone of the summer for him.

Though he may have scored in a single brilliant burst of batting prowess, talk still existed about whether or not he could transfer the good form through to subsequent innings. Indeed, Hussey made a futile 126 in the final Ashes Test last year at Lord’s but failed to carry on with it in future games. Fortunately, the same could not be said here. Since his heroic 195, he has hit scores of 93, 52, 61 and 116. He has become the first batsman in the history of the game to score six consecutive scores of over 50 in the Ashes. He has already made 517 runs at an average of 103.4 – the best series total of his career - with a maximum of four innings still available for him to play in. His performances over the past several weeks have been reminiscent of him at his very best in his early days, when his batting average of over 85 loomed as close to Bradman’s 99.94 as any mortal could hope to achieve.

But it’s extended beyond merely just his scores; he has pulled (quite literally) Australia out of dire trouble right when they needed him, and he has rallied the tail behind him in order to secure healthy scores that have at least been vaguely competitive. Indeed, his 116 at Perth secured Australia that Test and revitalised their hopes of taking back the Ashes. As a batsman, Hussey is neither overly stylish nor unorthodox. He is a subdued player who could spend days out in the middle batting his way along in a timely fashion without ever getting bored. Such is the incredible scope of his concentration and commitment. One cricketing fan described it thus: "His application to scoring runs as opposed to practicing a ballet-like style and hoping for the best is a reminder of what one hears about Bradman – the attunement of the action to the purpose."

Like Ponting, Hussey’s future will depend on the success of the Ashes. But while Ponting may retire if the Ashes is lost, Hussey may retire when the Ashes is won. Such has been the grandeur of his recent success – and the unparalleled comeback he has achieved – that will characterize his own legacy and engrain into the minds of all his supporters and fearful opponents just how eerily close he is to Bradman’s class. If Australia win the Ashes, it isn’t hard to foresee Hussey retiring with success in lieu of Shane Warne, Glenn McGrath and Adam Gilchrist at the peaks of their respective careers. Ponting’s career may be ending on a whimper, but Hussey’s is ending with an inspiring resurgence. It will be a long time before anyone will forget that 100 he made at the Gabba – his scream of satisfaction an act of defiance in the face of the overwhelming calls for his dumping from the team.

From James Adams-Pace, United Kingdom

Paul Collingwood has to step up © Getty Images

They were about three weeks late, but Australia have finally arrived. The bowling attack that was expected to expose England’s batting frailties has found rhythm and we now have a competition on our hands. This was the match-up that many had anticipated – let us hope it develops into the one the public desires.

The signs were there for England that all was not well: among the batsmen, Andrew Strauss had been making a few too many low scores, Jonathan Trott was getting put down a little too often and Paul Collingwood was not making as many runs as he should, while among the bowlers, Steven Finn was conceding a few too many runs and Graeme Swann was not having as big an impact as hoped. But this was fine as long as Alastair Cook and Kevin Pietersen were scoring double-centuries. That is until Ryan Harris and Mitchell Johnson found form.

Now England are in crisis, with changes to be made for the next Test. Suddenly, the team that could do no wrong is about to be broken up, the leading wicket-taker in the series singled out as one of the targets. As an Englishman, this may be wrong and perverse of me to say, but this is fantastic news. Of course, seeing England humiliate the Australians after years of embarrassment is delightful, but the cricket feels meaningless – there is no satisfaction in a certain victory.

Cricket should be about tight matches, evenly contested, with the result uncertain until the last ball on the fifth day. Watching a team rack up 600 and bowl the other team out for 200 twice is not true entertainment – it is vacuous. Indeed, I would go as far to say that the best news of the series is that Australia have finally got their act together – it will make for more compelling viewing all-round. It was thoroughly enjoyable watching England dominate Australia, but to finally have a contest – now, that is cricket.

From Suman Kumar, India

Children play cricket on a deserted highway in India © AFP

Back in 1987, when Narasimha Prasad a.k.a BSA (he rode a BSA cycle) took a leg-stump guard, we were quite sure that the kid, three years our junior in school, would play yet another ‘swashbuckling’ innings. Not too many cricketing prodigies came from Chittoor, a small town in Andhra Pradesh. And, BSA was our only hope. That really short kid was playing for the town team and he was only 11. Reddy, the college team captain, even made a prophetic statement “Great batsmen come in short sizes.” Reddy was five feet two, on a good day, if he was wearing high-heels that is.

BSA started that innings with a royal cover drive. Before long, we were 56 for 1. And then it happened. Stephen, the fast bowler, dug one short and BSA tried hooking him. There wasn’t too much bounce and the ball hit BSA on his chest. He just turned away, walked towards fine leg, rubbing his chest. I was at the non-striker’s end and to my utter disbelief Stephen was appealing ferociously. I heard the umpire go “Eh?” and for what seemed like an eternity Stephen was screaming his lungs off. I laughed out loud. What happened next blew my mind: the umpire’s finger went up in slow motion. There was a stunned silence. BSA, as usual started, crying; he had the habit of crying when he was given out. I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed. “Height. He is short. So he is out lbw,” said the umpire. Agreed, BSA was short. He was barely four feet tall but…I have a lurking suspicion Steve Bucknor was holidaying in Chittoor that day.

The more international cricket I see, the more I am convinced that there is a secret team that prowls the hinterland of India, with the sole objective of documenting all the innovations, tricks, tactics, strategy… you know? You don’t believe me? Indulge me here, will you? Before you write it off that is.

Umpiring humour

You know, we love Billy Bowden. His antics are endearing and fun. Where did he learn to innovate? How did he manage to mix humour effectively with his profession?

The death overs were on and I was batting. I was well set and was determined to smash the bowlers all over the park. Kumaraswamy or KS, as we referred to him much to his delight, overpitched and I promptly flicked him. There was a slight inside edge, I guess, and the ball flew straight to Suresh, the leg umpire who was, as usual, lost in thought. Let us pause here. Let’s freeze that ball mid-air. Remember Suresh standing with his feet crisscrossed. Yeah.

Suresh is a mad man. No, wait, really. He knew nothing but cricket. He played some Under –19 cricket for Andhra Pradesh and he also was the vice-captain of the Chittoor town team. He was a compact batsman and bowled some legspin. He was the only guy who read cricket books. I think he bought Sunny Days and read it with the help of a dictionary in six months flat. He also had the habit of discussing cricketing strategy and tactics… with himself. So if you go to Chittoor and see a (now middle-aged) guy walking, talking to himself, and occasionally playing a cover drive or a flick, it has got to be Suresh. Yes.

So let’s unfreeze the ball now. I hit the ball, the ball flew to Suresh, I started running but the non-striker stopped midway, slipped and fell on his back… laughing. I think the term ROTFLMAO was coined that humid, summer day in Chittoor. Suresh, the leg umpire, caught the ball I had hit and started celebrating. It gets better now. When he noticed that the fielding team, batsmen, and the umpire were glaring at him, Suresh shrugged and cooed “Howzzat umpire?”

The only question that haunts me even today is this: where the hell was Billy Bowden hiding in the Arts college grounds that day?

From Akash Kaware, Canada

South Africa's return to international cricket - an ideal candidate for a movie © PA Photos

Like any sane Indian, when it comes to favourite pastimes, cricket and movies are at the top of my list. The IPL has seen to it that Bollywood makes its presence felt around cricket matches. But apart from sporadic - and generally embarrassing - appearances from cricketers in movies, the vice versa is not true. Now this is not to say that cricketers should invade Bollywood (or Hollywood for that matter), but for a sport that has such a rich and long history, plenty of stories of bravery & courage, many scandals, and characters galore - all of which would lend themselves beautifully to the silver screen - cricket is grossly under-represented in the world of movies.

There are plenty of constraints that prevent movies being made about cricket. But it’s not the purpose of this article to dwell on them. I am only going to mention a few incidents/people that would make wonderful subject matter for a movie, and which I would personally love to watch on the big screen. Let us assume Hollywood knows that a sport called cricket exists and that all the best actors and directors are queuing up to make movies about it! Let us begin!

1) Bodyline: One of cricket’s biggest scandals. The devious, or brilliant - depending on your viewpoint - plan devised by Douglas Jardine, and executed to perfection by Harold Larwood to rein in the brilliance of Don Bradman. Imagine Jardine, played by the sinister-looking Ralph Fiennes, yelling, “I’ve got it! He’s yellow!” after noticing Bradman’s discomfort against short-pitched bowling in the Oval Test of 1930, the realization that eventually led to the birth of Bodyline. Imagine Bill Woodfull, played by Russell Crowe, rebuking Pelham Warner, the manager of the English side in that fateful series, “I don’t want to see you, Mr. Warner. There are two teams out there, one is playing cricket. The other is making no attempt to do so”. Throw in little anecdotes like Bradman’s golden duck in Melbourne, the Australian crowd’s reactions as they saw their batsmen getting hit, the resulting diplomatic tensions between the two nations and you certainly have an action-packed and tense script. I wonder who would play Bradman and Larwood though.

2) Kerry Packer and World Series Cricket: A headstrong businessman is denied the broadcast rights for the Australian cricket season and decides to take on the old heads at the Australian Cricket Board. His brainchild, World Series Cricket, with considerable help from Tony Greig, splits the cricket world into two, turns players against their countries, and changes the look and feel of one-day cricket forever. From fighting a fierce legal battle with the cricket authorities, Kerry Packer went on to become an icon who was mourned with a minute’s silence at the MCG when he died. Michael Douglas pulled off “Greed is good” with elan in Wall Street, he would be able to pull off Packer’s immortal line to the members of the ACB, “What is your price, gentlemen?” too, wouldn’t he? He would need to learn the Australian accent though!

3) Basil D’Oliveira and South Africa’s isolation: It was poetic justice that South Africa’s sporting isolation was expedited because of one of their own. Basil D’Oliveira was born and raised in Cape Town, but made a name for himself in English cricket. He was named in an England squad due to tour South Africa in 1968-69. South Africa’s apartheid regime meant that he was not welcome in his own country, however. South African cricket authorities were well aware that their government’s stance would lead to the series being cancelled and South Africa isolated, which resulted in plenty of behind-the-scenes machinations to ensure that D’Oliveira didn’t tour, but to no avail. England insisted on picking him, South Africa insisted he wouldn’t be allowed. The tour was cancelled and finally, in 1970, South Africa was indefinitely banned from international cricket. They did not make it back until…

4) ...South Africa’s readmission in 1991: The story of South Africa’s readmission to the world of cricket is every bit as movie-worthy as the story of their isolation 22 years ago. Ali Bacher was the South African captain in their last series before their isolation, and he was again instrumental in getting them back into the fold. Convincing the ICC and its member countries that South Africa had turned a new leaf with the end of apartheid was no mean task, but Bacher, with some help from Jagmohan Dalmiya, accomplished the feat. South Africa returned to international cricket against India on November 10, 1991. If scenes of the South African cricketers’ welcome in Calcutta, their meeting with Mother Teresa and Clive Rice’s moving statement, “I know how Neil Armstrong felt when he stood on the moon”, are not movie-material, I don’t know what is!

5) Allan Border: Sports movies are fairytales most of the time. A determined coach or captain takes over a ravaged, disintegrated team and transforms it into a bunch of world beaters. Allan Border did it too, but with one difference - his team didn’t actually become world beaters under him. With his dogged batting and captaincy, sheer force of example, he literally dragged a down-in-the-dumps Australian side to the threshold of world champion status. The fairytale would have had a perfect ending too, but Australia fell agonizingly short of wresting back the Frank Worrell Trophy from the West Indies in 1993, the last time Border crossed swords with his old tormentors. Australia did it a year later, but it was Mark Taylor who lifted the trophy, Border never got to hold it. It just wasn’t meant to be.

6) The Rise and Fall of Modi: Like him or loathe him, there’s no denying the fact that the swift rise, and swifter fall of Lalit Modi would make for an engaging movie. Call him a visionary who realised the true potential of Twenty20 cricket better than its creators, or a money-minded businessman for whom cricket was a vehicle to money and power. The merciless crushing of the Indian Cricket League, the dream start of the IPL, the crass, in- your-face commercialization of every aspect of it, his autocratic way of running things, a tendency to rub people the wrong way, and the somewhat inevitable scandals that engulfed the IPL within three years are all a scriptwriters dream. And Modi is still young enough to play himself!

There are plenty of other stories in the game that would make for wonderful movies. The story of Bradman, the Boy from Bowral. The story of Frank Worrell, who was so much more than just a cricketer and captain. The lives of characters like Shane Warne. The continuous soap opera that is Pakistan cricket. The deeper you dig, the more nuggets cricket would throw up. But to start with, the six stories above are not a bad collection, are they?