Cricket is a fertile breeding ground for hyperbole. It amplifies every emotion. Joy morphs into euphoria and sadness takes on the guise of despondence.
For fans, it is a sport where victory sends you into a fit of jubilation and defeat catapults you into the throes of despair.
In a sport that trades in such heightened emotions, on most days, hyperbole is to be guarded against. On most days, we must view Cricket for what it ultimately is – a sport.
Today is not one of those days. It is not a day for sheathing one’s emotions; it is a day for celebrations and grand proclamations. Because a day like this may never come again.
This Indian team, a disparate band of broken bones and battered bodies, has achieved the unthinkable. They haven’t merely defied the odds; they have annihilated it.
This most resolute group of players has forced us into dealing exclusively in hyperbole because anything lesser will not do justice to the sheer gravity of their accomplishment.
How can I not be hyperbolic about Rishabh Pant’s batting heroics?
He is all of 23, yet he played with a self-assuredness that would make ten men feel like hundred. It takes a battalion to do what India did in Brisbane, and Pant was this battalion’s general.
It is a performance that will not be forgotten in haste. Pant will likely go on to achieve remarkable things in his career, but this innings is destined to be one of the keystones of his Cricket eulogy once he retires, such was its magnitude.
How can I not be hyperbolic about the otherworldly resilience of the man they call Cheteshwar Pujara?
At times, he seems not to be a man formed of flesh and blood, but of mortar and grit. He wasn’t the wall that kept Australia at bay; he was the fortress that they couldn’t hope to breach.
They kept on pounding, but Pujara stood resolute, a quality that has rubbed off on this group of players.
How can I not be hyperbolic about the endless promise of Shubman Gill? He has all the makings to be the prince that was promised.
We are often unconscious passengers of history; it passes us by without our cognisance. Today, we were a part of it. We witnessed it.
India’s victory in this match and this series will never be forgotten. It trumps, by some distance, what they accomplished on their last tour.
This win isn’t merely one for the history books; it is a book entirely of its own.
On a cold, dark day in Old Trafford in 2019, India fell prey to New Zealand in the World Cup.
It was a day where hyperbole took over once more. Sadness had grown into despondence.
On days like those, one wishes Cricket didn’t mean so much to us. But we love this beautiful game of ours because sometimes, it gives us days like these.
I remarked on that day, both in hope and consolation, that the sun will shine on Indian cricket once more. And today in Brisbane, the sun has shined on Indian Cricket as bright as it ever has.
This is a day for hyperbole. It is a day for euphoria. It is a day to bask in the warm glow of that victorious sun.
Picture Source Wikipedia
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