BEYOND BOUNDARIES

Sitting through Australia vs South Africa was not exactly part of my Sunday agenda. Dip in dip out was the idea as I lazily looked at Ricky Ponting batting. But what do I see - 200 odd in about 30 overs and no sign of a let-up in the assault. I sat glued as Ponting and company blasted their way to a record 434.

Record achieved. End of story I thought as Dippenaar fell cheaply. With every intention of going out for a film in the evening I take one final look at the scores. What do I see now - Gibbs blazing away.

I dismissed this charge as the boy standing on the burning deck delaying the inevitable. But I was hooked enough to stick on with the match. And I did enjoy every moment of history being created and undone.

But the pleasure came with a tinge of sadness. Whither the bowler?

I started watching cricket in early 1987 - when 250 was considered a good score and 300 was considered Mt.Everest. I still remember agonising when India ended up one run short of 300 in an ODI against Sri Lanka (it was a 40-over match though). That was an exceptional match in those days, with Sri Lanka replying with 289. Roshan Mahanama and Asanka Gurusinha scared the daylights out of me with their batting.

That was a time when pinch-hitting was a concept unheard of - though we did have Srikkanth twirling his bat around . 40 for 0 in 10 overs was considered runs made at a fast clip. Bowlers' confidence levels were stratospheric defending 250-odd.

1996 World Cup, Sanath Jayasuriya and after - one-day cricket got more exciting. But it was runs, runs all the way and the bowler an instrument to be pummelled.

Surprisingly, India had still not achieved a 300-plus score even then. But the same year even that psychological barrier went for a toss - with the team scoring 305 against Pakistan at Sharjah.

Even then once 300 was achieved chasing was still regarded a distant dream. But in the subcontinental pitches it didn't take long for that fear to crumble too. Bowlers were just there, delivering the ball for the batsmen to whack and the crowds to cheer.

In a way it does make the game exciting but what about parity? Things have come to a stage when an absolute flat track is referred to as the ideal one-day wicket. And I, who used to get so excited at one stage about sides reaching that magic 300 figure would say 'big deal'.

The Wanderers batathon left me wondering. Where does the bowler hide? Is it merely mediocre bowling or an ultra-flat wicket? Mind you, the mayhem did not happen on a small subcontinental pitch. One can argue that there was no McGrath or Warne or Pollock - but how much could they have done?

The game may be touching new frontiers but at the cost of fond memories with which I grew up. A six is a pleasure but the ball rattling the timber (not just due to a missed slog) is an equal pleasure. Not to forget the ball beating the bat. Wonder how much of that we will get to see in a belter-heavy future.