TRAVEL An Indian Odyssey, part 4

An Indian Odyssey


Personal Trainer
Paul O'Brien

Crazy about cricket
For most people in Ireland, the thought of sitting and watching a cricket game is about as alluring as a stale pint of Guinness. In India, it is simply not possible to ignore the game. You have two choices: allow yourself to be driven mad by cricket’s consistently high profile or try it on for size. I chose the latter.
To understand the passion for cricket in India is a journey into the national psyche. ‘Cricket Crazy’ is the title of one of many chat shows in India completely devoted to the sport. I have also counted at least three TV channels dedicated to it. To say cricket is a national obsession here is a huge understatement. As with football in Brazil, rugby in New Zealand or GAA on our own turf, cricket is an essential part of life here. It’s in the blood.
My time here has coincided with two major events in the cricket calendar. The Indian Premier League (IPL) is the world’s leading league for limited-overs cricket (a shortened and far-more exciting version of the normal game), and the international T20 limited-overs world cup in the West Indies. The IPL tournament plays host to most of the world’s best cricketers. Matches are played daily to raucous and passionate crowds in packed stadiums and teeming local bars.
IPL teams represent regions from all over India. Although team support is fiercely partisan, the IPL stands as a bridge over divides of religious, social and economic class. Seats in stadiums are available to suit all pocket depths – Rs500 to Rs7000 (about €8 to €120). Stadiums are melting pots where the daily concerns of the fans blend into a passionate outcry of hope and expectation.
Their teams carry dreams of every fan. And they know it. Those Indian players who have made it to the big time represent the hope of a better life for those in the cheap seats.  For the millions of Indians who live on a pittance daily, cricket is a tangible source of hope. Those sitting pitch-side can almost reach out and touch the players, touch a better life, for now just yards away. Cricket is also an opportunity for families to gather. Not just immediate family either. Extended families of 20-30 people regularly gather at a relative’s home for a game involving the local team. The BBQ is fired up, the stumps and bats brought out and a festival atmosphere lingers in the air. The love of the game seems, at times, to glue families and communities together.
Driving through the streets of Bangalore and Chennai (both of whose teams made the semi-final of the IPL tournament, with Chennai eventually winning the title), cricket is everywhere.
Kids and adults alike play fully fledged matches on streets, in shop avenues, fields and car parks. Telephone poles, dustbins and bags double as the stumps, some use cricket bats, others no more than flat sticks. Tennis balls fill the airspace, though sometimes crumpled newspaper is used as the ball. There are umpires, drinks breaks, arguments and laughter. Mostly, there’s passion.
As another episode of ‘Cricket Crazy’ winds up, the host, a well-known Indian comedian, congratulates the Pakistani team on beating South Africa to consolidate their place in the tournament.
No tongue in cheek this; it’s a genuine pat on the back to the old enemy, with whom India seems perennially in conflict. With India all but out of the tournament, Pakistan flies the sub-continent’s flag into the latter stages. I am reminded of the great legacy of international sport – its ability to unite us across all divides. Sport, at it’s best, can do that.

Paul O’Brien is a certified personal trainer with the American Council on Exercise and a qualified life coach based in Westport. He is currently spending a couple of months in Bangalore, India, where he is setting up Summer fitness camps for Children. This article is one of a series detailing his experiences as a fitness instructor in a foreign culture.