THE IPL at Dharamsala - Kings 11 Punjab vs Chenni Super Kings

Pre- Game

Julie had first mentioned to me about the big cricket game that coincided with our stay at McLeodganj. Her good buddy, Antoinette, a livid IPL cricket fan, would love to take me to the match. Given I had only watched first class cricket from the comfort of the lounge or pub chair, it seemed a good idea to go with the flow. So on day one in McLeodganj, I was ushered to the Tourist Commission building and purchased my 650 Rupee (A$16 approx) ticket. I was in third tier seating, whilst Antoinette had already procured 800 rupee seats for herself and friends....which had now run out; so was I to be the lone Aussie amongst the (Punjab) cricket mecca minions? Time would tell.

A few days before the game, I was strolling towards the town centre and observed many police and security officers outside one of the more classy hotels. Amongst the arsenal at their immediate disposal were hand guns, shotguns, various machine guns, riot sticks and the like. Some were posted in high positions. In the instant I thought, “turn back, go the other way”, my legs assumed a position of gay abandon and led me straight by the serious looking faces; I acted as if heedless to their scrutiny and strolled past, admonishing my legs with a bit of a trip, but felt very uncomfortable. I subtly picked up my pace and continued on my internet cafe sojourn. Out of 'danger', I then started running into welling crowds of Indians and Tibetans. The roads were hectic and congested (yes, even more so then normal) with traffic police providing guidance to the melee, and it dawned on me that a IPL cricket team was booked into the hotel, with their arrival imminent. I watched as the convoy drove past in the suddenly cleared roads. I did my browsing quickly (gee, don't any of you know my email address?) and returned home, via the security 'cordon', this time without the same level of trepidation, knowing that international cricketers in India are a most unlikely target!

The day before the game, some cricketers were to meet His Holiness, The Dalai Lama at the Temple at the bottom of our drive. We decided to intercept them, along with the welling throng from the few night's previous. We waited and waited for them to emerge, and I approached two heavily armed police/security officers for a photo. (One thing that came to mind was the saying along the lines that fools dwell where wise men fear to tread).

Anyway, they obliged, and we had a natter about Australia. Then the cricketers started emerging, spasmodically, in ones and twos. The gathered parted like the red sea, under the persuasions of the security officials and occasional waving of automatic arms. The parted then rejoined after the hallowed had passed them, awaiting the next anointed ones. In one preparative parting of the red sea, I had a sudden thought...why not leap into the exposed depths, interrupt this mini drama and walk down the passage as if a famous cricketer, and get Abbey to take a picture of me...what would the result be?

No sooner thought than realised, and with a bit of flare I leapt into the breach, emboldening the parted to cheer me on, (which they did with unfettered gusto and mirth)...for here was one who had earnt and needed no protection, was ardent and responsive to their combined conflagration of implored delight, and besides, was a crazy dude having a bit of fun at everyone's, and especially his own, expense.

The Game

The morning of the game was greeted with cloudy weather and periods of rain. Dharamsala Cricket Stadium had already earned a reputation for rain on game day, and many were wondering if the game would be cancelled. But while remaining overcast, the weather played no further part in the ministrations of the event. The Dalai Lama was to grace the game with his presence, and to present the teams with katags (a silken type 'scarf” , offered to the Holy One for his blessing). But to witness this, first I had to get in. We left (Antoinette and I) around midday, to arrive at the ground by around 1.00pm, for a 4.00pm start. As we had different seating, we had to enter through different gates. We organised a place to meet after the game, and proceeded to our allotted entrances. The queue to entrance 7 was already well formed when I arrived, and I stood in line till about 2pm before any movement towards the stadium. In that time, Police organised motorcycle parking and were very strict with queue jumpers; the previous game at Dharamsala has resulted in riots due to over allocation of tickets, and they wanted no repeat performance. Also, (as I discovered later), the previous evenings IPL game had several low density bombs detonate,injuring a dozen or so spectators and resulting in a two hour delay), security was intense.. I was searched twice, and was not about to try any funny stunts with these guys, you could tell their level of intensity. I was politely jostled in the line by my fellow devotees, to ensure I kept pace, as is the Indian tradition. After a final frisk, ticket produced, scrutinised (for about the fourth time) and accepted, I entered the stadium and was treated to a most delightful spectacle! A stunning ground, palmed at one side by the snow covered mountains of the Himalayas, strategically set atop a knoll that amplified its inherent iconic status, a landmark and testament to the advancement of the state, and hemmed otherwise by the foothills and plains of the surrounding countryside. Many had praised the ground before, and now seeing the stadium at close quarters for the first time, surrounded, daunted and uplifted by the majesty of its natural setting, I too was left me momently awed. I assumed a seat, and awaited His Holiness. As it turned out, their were many tourists at the match, and in my section of the Stadium (well, at least 20 or so among the 25,000!).

Having watched a few previous IPL matches with Antoinette on paytv, it was great to see all the pre-game preparations and warm-ups that do not feature in the square eye view of the world. One thing I noticed about the players...many fielded better in the warm up then they did in the game! (that's about all I had in common with their skill set!).

Immediately prior to the game, the crowd was treated to a display of Tibetian culture, and thence the fervour generated when His Holiness, the Dalai Lama entered the arena. The cricketers received their blessing, and it was really a moment in history unfolding in front of me, something I will hold long in my memories....nothing to do with the cricket, but as the blessings continued, my thoughts turned towards the slum school camp, itself located in the shadows of the Stadium. I wondered about the Dalai Lama's active support of both forms of humanity so alive within his immediate precinct, and the greater panhuman practice (and relevance?) of fairness and equity in the world. Then, like so many others whose attention is briefly drawn to such musings, I reflectively dismissed the seeming irony of such divergent realities, and knowing full-well that one could not exist without the other in the precise moment observed, I focused on the Stadium's Master of Ceremonies; he turned up the atmospheric music, the teams rallied to their encampments, and it was game on, with the Kings 11 Punjab to bat first. So easily the mind diverted; yet is it so meaningless the postulations of a humanity that reasons the greater good of the 'all' to assuage the plight of the 'one'?

The Kings 11 amassed 192, with Aussie Shaun Marsh a standout. In reply, Super Kings scored 195, to win by five wickets; Matthew Hayden failed with the bat, but Dhoni, the Indian captain, thumped sixes and fours in the last two overs to practically cement them a place in the IPL semi-finals.

The only discord with the panache of the night (apart from my brief introspection) were the four trio sets of Pom Pom cheerleaders, doing somewhat lethargic and poorly choreographed dance routines every time a four or six was scored, or when there was a pause in the cricket. They did not fit in at all for me. The Indian crowd greatly appreciated the generated hype, and shaky booty, but for me, bring on the Bollywood dancers for the next IPL series. Their intensity and movement would be more in tune with the occasion, and certainly add a little more spice to the proceedings!

Post script (for Julie's eyes only):

Pretti Zinta the Bollywood star, also adorned the ground with her presence. Each IPL team seems to be owned by a Bollywood starlet. As she pranced around the ground at change of innings, she caught my eye, leapt over the security fence and whisked me away......

Gerard.

After all the security to get Pretti and her Punjab captain to the car Moo dropped by to hold up proceedings, much to everyones delight.