IF YOU GREW UP IN INDIA IN THE ’80S OR THE EARLY ’90S, YOU MIGHT NOT REMEMBER YOUR FIRST BRUSH WITH CRICKET BECAUSE IT WAS, WELL, ALL AROUND

One, there is so much cricket these days, most of it of the slam-bang Twenty20 variety, that the joy of watching a Test match in its entirety has slowly been rendered meaningless. Two, the explosion of TV in India has made the best of entertainment – live sport or otherwise – so easily available, that we don’t have the time to engage with events, just to consume them. Three, over time cricket pitches in Australia have become different characters altogether – Perth is no longer menacing, the Gabba in Brisbane is no longer zippy in the mornings and early evenings, and a straight six at the Adelaide Oval is no longer the stuff of fairytales. Four, for those who were willing to brave through these societal changes and remain cricketing purists, at some point in the last decade, someone decided to ‘Indianise’ the cricket telecast from Australia by shipping our own commentators, removing the walking ducks, and even the ultimate travesty of re-inverting the score. (It’s akin to travelling on an exotic holiday but insisting on eating only Indian cuisine.)

So, now that another India tour of Australia is underway, I try (but don’t always manage) to wake up in the mornings and spend a couple of quilted hours, cherishing the game’s purest form, raising a toast to nostalgia. You should too, and perhaps we can celebrate our shared triumph as fellow warriors.