Big Boys Do Cry: Rohit, Kohli, Dravid and a World Cup of dream | Cricket News
Before the hurricane hit Barbados on Sunday, a flood of tears had swept its famous cricket ground. India’s hardened pros had sobbed like nursery kids on the first day of school on receiving the T20 World Cup. In television studios, even the seen-it-all former players turned-pundits couldn’t keep their eyes dry. Same was true for the many who watched the tense final on television and the ones who turned up at Marine Drive for the victory parade. This was a rare win where the gallons of tears shed the nation outweighed the sweat poured its champion cricketers.World Cup wins have horically drawn a lot out of cricket-crazy India. The 1983 World Cup brought pure joy to a nation with no expectations. 2007 was a fun ride on a slick new roller-coaster with extra tws. 2011 is remembered for the mass euphoria over the win at home, MS Dhoni’s six and relief over Sachin Tendulkar’s Cup triumph.
2024 has been different, never ever has a win mattered so much to so many. This was a World Cup of calming closures and collective catharsis.
Watch closely the reels that have swarmed the social media timelines of the nation since last Saturday. Try reading the faces of the Indian cricketers slumped to the ground, pause to wonder why Rohit Sharma sat in a daze staring blankly at the ground, go back to the tight hug he gets from his old mate Virat Kohli and rock-and-roll the clip to check if the obsessively reticent Rahul Dravid actually wiped his mo eyes when he left the dugout.
Rahul Dravid’s first major title as India head coach came in his final assignment at the T20 World Cup. (PTI)
Dravid did cry, so did others. Such was the enormity of the moment, so long was the wait that the guards dropped. Damn the privacy, this was the time to let it all hang out.
If tears threatened to flow, Dravid didn’t hide them. If Rohit’s heart told him to give a peck on Hardik Pandya’s cheek, he didn’t len to the head that reminded him of the power equation of the Mumbai Indians dressing room. Hardik would have preferred this love during IPL when the boos kept ringing in his ears but he too was smiling. And when Rohit mentioned Hardik at the victory celebrations at Wankhede stadium, the house of boos during IPL, the crowd roared and Hardik turned teary.
When Virat saw Rohit walking ahead of him during the victory lap, he forgot the toxic GOAT debates their respective troll armies regularly fight, brand battles or ‘match-winner’ legacy races. What he remembered was his incomplete photo album.
The world first saw them as the prodigies hustling to be in the Indian team, later they would compete to be in the playing XI and subsequently they were captaincy contenders. There have been ups and downs, cold vibes, misunderstandings and frayed feelings. Their respect for each other’s skills never faded. They were once way too close, so they couldn’t really grow apart.
Virat didn’t allow the moment to pass. He tapped Rohit on his shoulder, told him that they needed to take a picture together. Both enthusiastically put an arm on each other’s shoulders, sharing the tricolour, and called the photographer to capture the moment before it flew past in the whirl of the occasion.
A million DPs and whatsapp status would have the two, the fans would get goosebumps. This was the classic end of the movie ‘… and they lived happily ever after’ frame on which the credits roll. On that evening, Barbados Oval turned into a grand stage that featured characters with gravitas and enthralling stories. Later, at Wankhede, Kohli would say something that explained the beti-bidaai mahoul. “In 2001, I didn’t understand why the seniors cried … but now it’s a different feeling. Rohit, we both have been trying for this so long …”
Team India captain Rohit Sharma with Virat Kohli after India won the T20 World Cup. (X | BCCI)
Not far was Dravid, the ultimate text-book batsman, the perfect planner, someone who his friends say actually folds his clothes before giving them for laundry. It was on his last day as national coach and probably the final time the country would see him wearing India blues, he got what he had strived towards. For the last three decades – first as a player, later as captain and now as a coach – he had wondered what it was to take in the rarefied air at the top of a summit. Now, he was taking it all in.
He was allowing his team to toss him in the air. He was running up the dressing room stairs with the Cup like a child returning home from school sports day with a medal in hand. When someone shouted at him to turn back and pose for a picture, Dravid would do that. This wasn’t an ad shoot, this wasn’t him acting, trying to be Indiranagar ka Gunda. This was Dravid, just for once, being Dravid.
His wait was the longest. He deserved this, his career shouldn’t have ended with Cuplessness. For all his life, Dravid had valued the game’s hory, he was Indian cricket’s loyal guard at No.3 and also the custodian of the game’s ethos. In a fair world, the painfully shy cricketer, the diligent captain and the archetypal coach who loves to be in the background had to be in a group photo that had a World Cup.
Once at the start of his career, a young Dravid had seen a TV production person wearing a T-shirt that had ‘Cricket is life’ written on it. For once he shed his shyness and walked up to him to make inquiries. He desperately wanted the same T-shirt for himself. No one in the world was more suited to wear that message. Cricket was sacred to him and he wanted the youngsters to also have the same ethos.
Suresh Raina in his book recalls a 2006 incident when he got a dressing down for moving around in a T-shirt with the brand name ‘FCUK’ displayed prominently. “You are an Indian cricketer .. you can’t wear that in public,” Dravid had ticked off his junior. Raina would bin the brand forever.
He had the respect and runs but Dravid remained part of the “he didn’t get his due” club. He had far more runs than Sourav Ganguly but didn’t enjoy his street cred. Indian cricket didn’t treat him well. He had to be a part-time wicket-keeper to keep his place in the ODI side and despite his best intentions as a captain he couldn’t be the bridge between the obstinate coach Greg Chappell and unyielding star-studded team. Even his coaching stint, till those last few overs of the final, seemed set to end unremarkably. That wasn’t going to happen, fate was sympathetic to those who have missed out in the past.
Team Indias captain Rohit Sharma holds the Indian tricolour during open bus victory parade in Mumbai. (Image source: PTI)
Like Dravid, Rohit’s career too had missed out on a crown. He was tactically smart and yaaron ka yaar to most of his team mates but the sport doesn’t recognise recco letters from indebted indulgent friends in the dressing room. Captain needs Cups and the team jersey with championship stars to be called true leaders.
Rohit couldn’t match Kohli’s numbers but now he had Barbados. Kohli can’t match Rohit’s captaincy record but he was the top-scorer and Man of the Match in an ICC tournament final – something both he and Rohit often get criticised for. Both were happy and at peace. So was Dravid.
June 29, 2024 would go down in Indian cricket as a day of an important rewrite. So when Hardik was taking wickets, Arshdeep Singh was saving runs, Jasprit Bumrah and Suryakumar Yadav were doing the impossible, the cricketing gods were reopening their ledgers and flipping to the Virat, Rohit and Dravid pages. In those names, they had to cross the t’s and dot the i’s.
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