Farewell to Eden's Gardens and Dreams

No cleansing dip in the Ganges

    High hopes and bold dreams faded quickly, flickered back to life, burst into full flame for a moment and then died. Three times, at least. Sport hurts but that’s why we love it because, it also doesn’t hurt. It enriches lives and helps to divert attention from real hurt. Farewell Eden Gardens.

    South Africa had the worst of conditions at Eden Gardens but they chose to bat first so they weren’t unlucky. They knew it would be difficult batting first but not that difficult. And then to fight back again after Australia were 60-0 after six overs. It was heady, inspiring stuff.

    Analysis and judgement should always wait an appropriate time. David Miller’s century should be celebrated and the efforts of the bowlers applauded. Not one of South Africa’s players left an ounce of effort in the tank. Cynical sceptics and choker-obsessives can brew in their bile.   

    Evidently the decision to return to the banks of the holy Ganges for some divine inspiration on my early morning run paid no dividends. I considered going the full journey and having a dip but suspected that a certain amount of conditioning and experience is required to complete the experience safely. Settled, instead, for a coffee and ginger biscuit before jogging back to the Majestic.

     It’s no consolation but at least the logistical nightmare is now over. Much of yesterday was spent worrying about how, and when, to travel to Ahmedabad and where to stay, or if we could stay. The semi-final started with the issues only partly resolved which was, I confess, a small distraction. And then it was 24-4 and Miller was the sole centre of attention.

    Flying on Saturday was out of the question with the cheapest tickets at R7000. Flights on Friday were around R3000 with various stop-overs in Hyderabad (again), Bangalore or even Delhi. Accomodation prices were increasing by the hour. It is called, one of my best Indian friends told me with a wink and a nudge, “a dynamic economy.” 

    There will be more to discuss. But for now, goodnight from the Majestic, a fine place of questionable repute. I look forward to my sliced, boiled eggs and mixed fruit jam in a couple of hours from now. And less noise from the rooms next door.