In the buildup to the World Cup semi-final between India and Australia, two friends describe their similar journeys to opposing perspectives.
Smacking away the flies gravitating around my face, I inspected the surroundings of that small portion of Carlingford road before I took guard.
You see, I was Mark Waugh, I exclaimed with such audible pride. Down the other end was Glenn McGrath, or my best mate Dushyant or Dush, whose offerings compared little to the metronome of Narromine.
Impersonating your favourite players is the standard way for kids to act on the dreams they wish to fulfil, and we were hardly exclusive in this regard. Dush’s turns to bat included mimicking Steve Waugh, flipping the other way as Mark Taylor, or even wearing the youthful goateed grimace of Ricky Ponting. This continued well into our youth and teens. But at some point, it all changed.
While I was still taking my guard casually ala Junior, or perennially walking back to a Brett Lee-length run up (give it or take minus 80 odd kms), Dush had taken up his stance as Sachin Tendulkar.
I cannot pinpoint the time at which I began supporting the Australian cricket team. Such a notion felt as natural as breathing or having three square meals a day. After all, growing up in the 90s meant watching McGrath and Warne make mincemeat out of batting lineups, while the Waughs wrested back Frank Worrell Trophies, World Cups and clean sweep all and sundry.
You got to hear the dulcet nuance of Richie Benaud leading the call, partnered by the unbridled enthusiasm of Bill Lawry and the convenient contrarianism of Tony Greig. I truly lament the luck of today’s young folk in this regard – they don’t get to learn the game from astute thinkers like these on the telly.
Dush heard all this too, but not with the same focus of following Australia that I did. Like I can’t pinpoint when I actively supported Australia, it’s even more fuzzy on when he supported India. He is very much not alone in this regard.
When Australia play India in a knockout semi-final on Thursday, it is very likely that Aaron Finch or Mitchell Starc will open proceedings facing a visible and audible sea of blue. Some will have made the trek from India to be there. The vast majority though frequent the streets and sights of the very players they cheer against.
In all honesty, I’ve never completely understood this. Through the deepening of my voice box and the greying of hair have I gained appreciation of my former home, but not their cricket team. “Why do you not follow India?” is one of the more frequent questions headed my way, but little do they realise that I plausibly can ask the same question in reverse: “Why don’t you support Australia?” with at least equal merit.
Much has to do with the passing of inherent family loyalties. For my part, it was not my dad or mum who would ferment my “spirit of cricket” (if I was to use such contentious vernacular), but my maternal grandfather.
Until his passing in 2001, he was an avid cricket observer, where he would witness the play in Brisbane, Bangalore and Birmingham often on the exact same day. Even while living in India all his life, he professed his admiration for fielding athleticism, intelligent captaincy and gameface aggression – all qualities he regularly heralded with the Australian team, while lamenting these very qualities from the team of his own nation.
Such views must have subconsciously validated my loyalty for myself, even if I necessarily wasn’t looking to question it.
Yet there was one time I almost did – that being the 2008 Sydney Test. It was in Dush’s living room that we both saw Michael Clarke rip out three Indian wickets to seal out a truly spectacular finish. Yet I could not get past the lack of grace from some of our players, who failed to console the Indians at what they rightly felt was an unfair loss – particularly if you juxtapose our behaviour with Andrew Flintoff and Brett Lee in 2005.
It was Dush’s sheer frustration that day which made me realise that my loyalty did not and should not come at the expense of my moral centre. Indeed, this incident I believe was the catalyst in the evident cricket politics played out to this day, where both India and Australia seek advantage off the cricket field as well as on. I could be wrong, but knowing Dush, I daresay he would agree with me on this score.
It’s for this reason that Thursday is special – a day I can share with the people I’ve grown up with, even if they stand as opponents. One common term that is thrown my way is drohi – Hindi for traitor, and that could be one of the kinder things said. Yet over time, as I moderated my views, so has Dush – so much so that he has worn yellow in an Australia game, while I sported blue in India’s win over Pakistan in Adelaide.
Despite crossing this barrier, there remains no question that India is the team I want my Australians to beat more than any other. Again, it may be my mistake, but Dush may feel the same way in reverse.
Dush is only one supporter of many who will cheer, scream and will their team to success on Thursday, and if they have their way, at the MCG on Sunday as well. But they never made that choice, and followed their passion, the same way I followed mine.
This article is part of a two-part series written by lifelong friends (and cricket tragics) Vas and Dush. Read the opposing perspective.
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