Deja vu..and you thought he wasnt a champion

Life goes on in that undying circle, so do I. Barring the very obvious indications that statement makes towards the fact that forced sleeplessness during the Midsems has left me so tired that I cant sleep even now, I was actually referring to the (glorious) return of Sourav Ganguly, for whom I have, at this point in time, more respect than when I saw him unleash those furious sixes against Pollock, nay, indeed than I ever had for him.


For face it, all ye who cant bear the sight of him, He is made of the fabric of Champions. Like the greek heroes of lore, he has his failings. The greek champions were not Gods.They were ordinary mortals, whose extarordinary courage earned them the respect of even the Gods.The Short ball, his achilles heel, still remains so. It isnt as if he looks any better against the short ball than he did when he was kicked out.But its his cussed belief in himself that has seen him through an ordeal, that believe me, for 99.95% players at his age, usually spells their end.


I see Sampras fans (May their tribe increase) arguing all the time with Federer fans as to who the greatest was. In the end, it doesnt matter. For Sampras did a Laazarus in that 2002 US Open. You could see he was finished, playing against kids ten years his junior, with limbs that have seen 10 years less than his creaky joints. He hadnt won anything in two and a half years, and Tennis Pundits were wondering why he was spoiling a blemishless record by not retiring. He had after all , achieved everything, wasnt that so? But that last gasp effort proved everyone wrong, didnt it? He hadnt, achieved "everything". Now he has. And even when Federer goes past him, he'll have his place in the Valhalla of tired warriors.For now he bears the true mark of a champion.Being able to come back when the whole world believes (maybe even with a reason) that you are done and wrapped up.


So when Ganguly got run out on 98 in Nagpur, my friends were rather surprised to find that I was not in the least upset. For I realized , that it isnt about numbers any longer. Its about an old lion once again showing the cubs Who roared before. He isnt infallable.But I do sense that he is at the point in his life when nothing can touch him. He has attained, if you like, nirvana.How many seasons will he play? The fan in me says another three to four, and he well might, but It really doesnt matter anymore.He said in a press conference before he left for South Africa that he sensed at some level that his story wasnt written yet. It still lacked a suitable ending.Of course, people laughed.


"Do what you may,you'll never keep him out too long. He always comes back" , I heard one of my friends quip.The very ardent fan in me wants to believe that.But of course, deep within, you sense that this time when he fades away, he'll probably do so for good.But then who can discount lifes glorious uncertainties? and the extarordinary power of the Human Mind, which when tapped in the slightest degree, yields results that are strange to the very same human mind. But no more dark words of gloom. Our Hero has afforded us another hour of Joy, after countless such, so what if its probably the last.We have a world cup coming up , remember?


At this moment , I remember the words of a song that I always listen before Exams. The song never fails to lift my spirits. Here it goes


He sings the songs that
Remind him
Of the good times
He sings the songs that
Remind him
Of the better times:

Dont cry for me
Next door neighbour...

I get knocked down
But I get up again
Youre never going to
Keep me down

I get knocked down
But I get up again
Youre never going to
Keep me down...

I wouldnt be surprised if it turns out that he sings that to himself every morning.