Playing It My Way: My Autobiography (49 page)

We won our next two pool matches against Ireland and the Netherlands fairly comfortably and met South Africa in Nagpur on 12 March 2011. It was this match that in many ways turned our campaign on its head. We began well and were soon firmly in control. Sehwag and I got off to a quick start – I scored my ninety-ninth international century in this match, but it was not much talked about at the time because the focus was squarely on the World Cup – and we set South Africa a target of 297 after a dramatic batting collapse, losing nine wickets in the last ten overs, with Steyn getting a five-for. Eventually we lost the match with two balls of the South African innings remaining and the defeat hurt us badly.

Unsurprisingly, there was stinging criticism in the media. We had slipped once but we all knew we could not afford to slip again. We simply had to get the campaign back on track in the next match, against the West Indies in Chennai on 20 March, and we managed to do just that, thanks to a Yuvraj Singh century and a surprise slower ball from Zaheer Khan to dismiss the in-form Devon Smith for 81. The crucial knockout phase was about to begin and in the quarter-final at Ahmedabad we drew Australia, the defending champions.

It was on the eve of that West Indies match that I tried to introduce an element of fun into my batting practice. I was practising to some throw-downs from Gary Kirsten and was just about to wrap up the session when the idea came to me. I decided to close my eyes for six deliveries, just after the bowler released the ball, then I asked Gary if he had noticed anything different. Gary said he hadn’t, except that my head was staying up when I was driving. I had to keep my head steady, because with your eyes shut you can easily lose the path of the ball with a very slight movement of the head. When I told him I’d had my eyes closed, he was shocked. I explained that I had watched his wrist position when he released the ball, to see if it was, say, an outswinger, and then closed my eyes and visualized the path the ball would travel. After that I went a step further by keeping my eyes shut and telling the fielders where I had hit the ball, based on how and where I felt the ball on the bat. It was just for fun, and I only did it once, but it did help me focus on the release of the ball, which is so important for a batsman.

In my early days I used to practise in an even more unusual manner. In the monsoon season in Mumbai – in June/July/August – it’s not possible to play much normal cricket, but my friends and I would still get together and play in the rain, using rubber balls. Sometimes this would be on a normal pitch without any cover, sometimes on a wet concrete pitch and sometimes on a concrete pitch with a plastic cover. There were times when I actually wore a proper helmet and my full cricket gear in the pouring rain. The rubber ball would come off the surface at quite a pace and it was a good way of sharpening up my reactions. While practising in the rain I would always ask the guys to bowl to me from 18 yards. They were allowed to bowl or chuck, but the object was always to try to hit me!

It was great fun but it also had a serious side. At the time, we didn’t have any indoor facilities and I had to practise somehow. Things have changed, of course, but in some ways I miss all that. I’ve even thought about doing it again with my son. Young players now grow up with all the best facilities, whereas I had nowhere to go. I had to practise on the roads or on wet outfields, where first the mud would splash onto my face and then the ball would follow! It was tough at times but it all contributed to my enjoyment of cricket, and I would love my son to share that experience.

Australia were chasing their fourth consecutive World Cup title and, remarkably, were meeting us for the first time in the competition since beating us in the 2003 final in South Africa. I remember two things about getting ready for the quarter-final. First, I did not eat non-vegetarian or spicy food after setting foot in Ahmedabad, which was boiling hot. I don’t really know why not. Something inside just seemed to suggest that I should stay away from that kind of food in the heat. I ate a lot of salad and yoghurt and things that I hoped would keep my system cool.

The other thing I remember is that I did not sleep well. This time it was not the mounting tension but my hotel bed that caused the problem. On the eve of the match I even resorted to sleeping on the floor. It was our masseur Amit Shah who pointed out that the problem was with my bed. When he came to give me a head massage to help me sleep, he immediately noticed that it was raised on one side, but unfortunately it was impossible to replace the bed at that late hour!

Playing against Australia is always a high-pressure contest, and a knockout game even more so. Despite a good start by Australia at Ahmedabad on 24 March, our bowlers did well in the powerplay to keep the run rate close to four an over. Eventually, the Australians put 260 on the board, with Ponting making an impressive 104, and we knew it wouldn’t be easy to chase down that total under lights.

Viru and I were aware of the enormity of the occasion as we walked out to deafening applause at the Sardar Patel Stadium. It really was now or never. When Viru got out for 15 trying to pull Shane Watson, caught at midwicket, we had put 44 on the board. Gautam and I added exactly 50 runs before I got out after reaching my half-century. We then lost Gautam and Dhoni in quick succession and Suresh Raina, playing only his second World Cup game, joined Yuvraj in the middle with 74 runs still needed.

At the time, I was lying on the massage table with my eyes closed, with Viru on the other table. I lay there completely still while Amit Shah gave me a neck massage. I was actually praying, asking God to do the best for us. At one point Viru thought I was sleeping and told Amit Shah, ‘
Tu apna time waste mat kar, woh so gaya hai. Ja ke match dekh le.
’ (Don’t waste your time. He has gone off to sleep, please go and watch the match.) I could hear his every word, but I didn’t want to move or react. Amit was aware that I was awake and said, ‘
Woh soya nahi hai, mujhe malum hai!
’ (He is not sleeping, I know!)

As Yuvraj and Raina gradually pulled things round I remember hearing my team-mates shout, ‘One more boundary … ah! Two more runs.’ We were getting very close to the semi-final and were about to knock the three-time champions out of the World Cup! And when Yuvi hit the final boundary, the Indian dressing room went mad. It was an unforgettable match.

On our way back to the hotel, it seemed as if the entire city was celebrating – or rather the entire country. When the team bus left the ground at close to midnight, there were still a few thousand fans at the gate waiting to cheer us. People were honking, dancing and waving the tricolour at every roundabout and street corner – and we hadn’t even reached the final yet.

I remember standing on the balcony of my hotel room and watching the celebrations till late at night. I also remember telling Anjali that it was an unbelievable sight and she had to see it to believe it. It emphasized to me yet again how much the World Cup meant to our cricket fans. However, it was only to get bigger with India meeting Pakistan in the semi-final.

Soon after we landed in Mohali and were on our way back to the hotel, I asked my team-mates if any of them had the Amit Kumar song ‘Bade Achhe Lagte Hain’ on their iPods. Finally, it was Mane Kaka, our masseur, who said to me that he had it with him. Mane Kaka has always been an exceptionally affectionate person, constantly doing the best for us without expecting anything in return. I subsequently requested DJ, our computer analyst, to download the song onto my iPod as soon as possible, and it was the only song I listened to for the next seven days.

The match in Mohali on 30 March was always likely to be the most intense of the competition and in fact it turned out to be one of the most pressured games of my career. Playing Pakistan in a World Cup semi-final on Indian soil – it just couldn’t get any bigger. As the two teams practised side by side we could feel the tension. Both teams badly wanted to win this one. Up till then India had an impeccable record against Pakistan in World Cups, and we wanted to keep that record intact.

We got off to a dramatic start in what turned out to be a rollercoaster of a game, thanks to Virender Sehwag taking on Umar Gul. He was the form fast bowler for Pakistan in the tournament and Viru’s assault set us rolling. Viru raced off the blocks and hit Gul for four fours in his second over. Fortunately the Pakistanis dropped me a few times, the chance to midwicket being a relatively simple one, and my innings of 85 proved vital as we lost a few quick wickets in the middle overs, with Wahab Riaz taking five in the match. Riaz bowled Yuvi first ball and the momentum shifted like a pendulum many times in the course of the match. So much so that I had my heart in my mouth on a number of occasions during this nailbiter. Suresh Raina played well for his 36 not out and helped us to 260, exactly the score we had chased down in the quarter-final against Australia. It was a good total but not a clear winning score on a decent pitch.

In their reply, Pakistan also got off to a good start, but just as the pressure was starting to build on us, Zaheer struck. Munaf also got a wicket in the powerplay and then Yuvraj took two quick wickets to put us in control. In the middle of the innings, Umar Akmal was trying to counter-attack but we knew that all it would take was one good delivery. Harbhajan did the job for us by bowling Akmal with the first ball of his second spell. He had decided to come round the wicket and Akmal misjudged the line.

Pakistan still had a chance while Afridi and Misbah were batting, but then Afridi fell to Harbhajan, trying to hit a full toss out of the ground. He would normally have made that shot nine times out of ten but on that night he spooned a simple catch to cover. It was one of those days when things seemed destined to go our way. After dismissing Afridi, we knew we could close out the match. Soon enough Misbah holed out to Virat at long on and we were in the World Cup final. As if that wasn’t enough, I also received the Player of the Match award, the third time I had that honour in a World Cup match against Pakistan.

The celebrations were quite something. We could see thousands of fans waving the tricolour and celebrating in Mohali. Navigating our way back to the hotel was a tricky business, with every corner taken over by delirious fans wanting to relish the moment. My friend Aamir Khan, the actor, came over to my room to offer his congratulations and I remember chatting away into the small hours. It was a night that India could never forget and we, having played a part in it, will never want to forget.

A number of dignitaries had come to Mohali, including our prime minister, Dr Manmohan Singh. The Pakistani premier, Yousaf Raza Gillani, was also present, but frankly we were not really taking in what was going on beyond the boundary because we were so preoccupied with the job at hand. We were soon on our way to Mumbai, convinced that we were peaking at the right time.

When we arrived in Mumbai for the final against Sri Lanka, the first thing I noticed was the increased police presence. It didn’t feel like the same city. Despite all the extra security, there were fans everywhere waiting to catch a glimpse of the team and wish us well. It was a kind of passion we had not seen before.

On the way from the airport, the police didn’t want to take any chances and escorted our bus to the hotel. On the way, I met Anjali on Mumbai’s Sea Link, the bridge that is now a landmark and has made commuting in the city much easier. (Before, there were times when I was playing a first-class match in Mumbai and I would choose to stay the night at the CCI rather than go to my own home, as it could take an hour and thirty minutes to drive there, which is not what you want after a long day in the field!) I had already informed the security personnel on the team bus that Anjali would be waiting for me and that I would be moving from the team bus to my car. Driving my own car didn’t make the journey to the hotel any quicker, because I was keeping the team bus in my sight. There were people everywhere and I don’t think I went above 40 kph. In fact I remember saying to Anjali that my car must think someone else is driving it at that speed.

While driving to the hotel I was also trying to take stock of the situation. It was hard to imagine I was going to play the World Cup final in front of my home crowd. I couldn’t help thinking back to March 2007 when I had returned to Mumbai after a disastrous World Cup campaign. That year, in hindsight, was a real nightmare. However, 2011 felt different, because we were gradually writing a national fairy tale. I told Anjali that this time there was no turning back.

We had played Sri Lanka a number of times in the recent past, in 2010 and 2011, and knew exactly what to expect from them in the final. They were a good side but we were confident of beating them. There was no need for a long team talk. We did meet for a team dinner, but after barely five minutes of cricket discussion, Mike Horn took over. All through the final week, Mike talked to us about his experiences. While for most of us there is always another day, for Mike it was often a matter of life and death. One mistake and it could all be over. The stories of how he coped with extreme pressure during his adventures – such as circumnavigating the globe at the Equator without motorized transport or walking to the North Pole during the dark season – definitely helped us deal with our own concerns on the eve of the World Cup final. They put our situation into perspective, reminding us that we were not the worst off in the world.

Unlike in Ahmedabad or even Mohali, I slept well in Mumbai on the eve of the final. On 2 April, we left the hotel early for the stadium and I was surprised not to see a single soul on the way. Security was so tight that fans were not even permitted to stand along the team bus’s route. It was difficult to believe that I had not seen a single cricket fan. However, the Wankhede presented a completely different picture. It was already packed, hours before the match was due to start.