FROM COUCH POTATO TO GROUND REALITY

Opinions, debates, number crunching, conspiracy theories, a bit of reporting, producing shows for Headlines Today - cricket's entertained and exasperated me over two decades. Two decades of watching cricket matches lazily lounging in the confines of living rooms, or a bit more actively in office and hostel tv rooms.

Just one thing was missing - the feeling of watching a match in a stadium, seeing a Tendulkar in flesh and blood. TV with its innumerable replays and closeups dissects everything for the viewer, but despite being able to wax eloquent on the game I could never say, "I was there."

So here I was heading for Chandigarh on a Sunday night for Monday's India-Australia clash. Not as a mediaperson but as a cricket fan. Early morning we are in a hotel right next to the stadium, and from our room we get a sense of the crowds. A swarm of people heading in one direction armed with loads of posters and banners.

This army brings fear in its wake too. What if the Haryana Cricket Association issued far more passes than seats in the stadium? Ticket scams are something fans are familiar with. Yet they make the long trudge, ever hopeful.

We've got VIP passes and we head towards the Sector 16 stadium, which is staging its first international match in nearly 15 years (Mohali's prospered as a cricket venue over the past decade at the expense of this stadium). Entry point, the cops say no cell phone. The magic word 'media' does not ring any bells for them. The refrain is, if you are media, go to the media section. But then we've already heard there are 300-odd accredited media people aiming for 80-odd seats. The cell phones go straight to the OB van.

I imagined a VIP pass meant that there would be a roof over our heads. Only to realise I was completely out of touch with reality. Here was a small stadium where only the media enclosure and the players' dressing room had roofs. And the sun was in its elements.

Our section had one big tree in the middle, and the early birds had gravitated towards its catchment area. After a short spell in the heat, we too headed for the tree zone. First sitting on the steps and slowly and steadily getting promotions.

In the meantime, Ganguly and Tendulkar too adopted the slow and steady approach. It was like watching a one-day game of the 1980s where 40 for 0 in 10 overs meant a great start. The crowd did not get too much to shout about, with Sachin grinding out only the occasional single while the powerplay was in progress.

We at least had the tree's comfort, sitting in the VIP stand. But what about the thousands who wait for hours to get tickets and are relentlessly exposed to the crushing gaze of the sun? I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.

Vendors arrive with refreshments. Four Tropicana juices and we are poorer by 120 rupees. Prices have indeed shot through the roof when it comes to the cricket fan. Lamb to the slaughter.

While we promoted ourselves from the steps to seats, the runs started flowing. Sachin played a quiet, sheet anchor knock without taking risks. And every single batsman did his bit in keeping the score ticking. And then came the charge, courtesy Dhoni and Uthappa.

I need to concentrate on every ball to savour each moment. Sitting in the stadium, you don't have the luxury of rewinding to what you missed. Replays don't always appear on the big screens there.

The Aussies start their chase. Our focus on the match is interrupted by a verbal altercation. All eyes move to an old man who's furious with some youngsters. Cops step in and one of them sits between the warring groups.

Another flare-up with the old man all agitated. But then Gilchrist falls, and the resulting cacophony drowns out the old man's aggression. A fight stopped in mid-stride.

HRV says Hayden has a penchant for uppish drives, which is why India has a fielder at short cover. The very next ball, Hayden drives and the ball tantalisingly falls just short of the fielder.

There are lots of empty chairs close to the boundary line. Inspiring yet another example of the Indian virtue of jugaad. Some enterprising characters collect chair after chair, one on top of the other, and lo and behold, they are watching the action at a higher pedestal. The cops aren't too pleased though, and eject some of them.

Hayden's on a roll and the shoulders are drooping. But then Ponting falls and the banners are back. There's this enterprising gentleman whose bugle propels the cheering. And Punjabi jokes abound, most of which I can't figure out.

As Kartik and Harbhajan apply the brakes, the cheering becomes louder. I am part of all-encompassing Mexican waves as the buzz of victory gathers steam. Robin Uthappa makes fielding look so easy at the deep, repeatedly picking up and throwing the ball in rapid-fire motion, reducing twos to ones.

And sitting on the stands, you notice sledging, both subtle and obvious, done by both sides. But sitting where we were, we missed out on most of the number one incident, when 12th man Sreesanth taunted Andrew Symonds as he was returning to the dressing room after a defiant 75. We caught on to a bit of it, with all eyes by then pointed towards the dressing room side.

Sreesanth's childish antics I must say are an insult to the practice of sledging. It's part and parcel of the game now, but there is a subtlety to it. A Matthew Hayden can sledge with a smile while half of Sreesanth's energy is wasted in verbal misadventures.

India wins by 8 runs and as HRV said, we witness a footnote in history - India's first ODI win over Australia in over three years (after early 2004).

But all is not hunky-dory. Our cab driver's obstinate certainty takes us to the Himachal Pradesh border late in the night, and we painstakingly retrace our steps. He nearly runs over a couple on a bike, instead of slowing down and asking them the way. And pitches for speed ahead of safety, forcing HRV to ask, aap apne liye ya hamare liye gaadi chala rahe ho.

Even in the cloud there is a silver lining. Immediately after we enter the National Highway and out of the maze created by the driver's penchant for the short cut, we sight Prince dhaba.As their blurb said it is 'good food chew fully'. Only that we couldn't satisfy the 'sleep well' part of the blurb, thanks to the rampaging driver.

The next cricket motto for me is the other blurb which the dhaba had. No 50 50 ask 100 100 Prince's biscuit. Now that Fifty50's been savoured, it's time to watch a test match.