The biggest news in the Indian sports scene last week
(unless you’re a die-hard fan of the Kabaddi league and care only about the
Bhatinda MudWrestlers) was the spot fixing scandal in the IPL. Shanthakumaran
Sreesanth, the Tiger of Kerala, the Pride of Mallu-land, the shiny hero from
down below, fell from his throne in the skies, and hit the ground, face first.
Or so, the reactions of most Malayalees would lead you to think. Well, atleast
reactions of Mallu aunties.
Kerala’s contribution to Indian cricket is not something to
boast about. Tinu Yohannan came, and went. His career wound up in a hurry (as
if it had the runs, was touching cloth and badly needed to use the restroom) having
played only 6 matches in total. (Let’s not even mention the Kochi Tuskers as a
contribution from Kerala. Hmm, but they were a team based in Kerala and did
have a slot in the points table in IPL ’11, which wasn’t at the bottom, so
maybe they do count). Then, along came Sreesanth. To Malayalees, it was like
the warmth you get when you hold a baby to your bosom. Soon they realised the
warmth came from the baby’s wee. On further investigation, they discovered that
the baby had pooped. Seeing his antics on the field, most of Kerala had the kind
of apologetic look on their face that people have when their pet dog starts
licking its privates in polite company.
Nonetheless, he was all we had, and grudgingly or willingly
(in case of the aunty-folk), we took him to be ours. There were small moments
of glory when we could genuinely be proud of him, like the time when he didn’t drop
Misbah-ul-Haq’s catch in the T20 finals. Or when he bowled a dot ball. But when
he took a wicket, Mama Mia, were we proud!
The spot fixing absolutely destroyed any respect he had from
anybody in the country, and Kerala, particularly. To us, he was always the kid
who decided to choose dancing for a career instead of engineering or medicine.
Never someone we were out-rightly proud of, but someone who in his own way, did
manage to bring smiles to our faces, and occasionally, do us proud. He was then
a Malayalee first and an Indian later. He was never the answer to a state’s
cricketing dreams or prayers, but he was what we were given. Now, while the
whole country mocks and jeers at him, (and rightly so) should we do so as well?
