Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Pink City Blues
I feel so bad that I cribbed about Kotla in my previous post. I feel horrible. Because, putting things in perspective after Sawai Man Singh Stadium, Jaipur, every expletive in the fattest dictionary of slang ever printed would fall short. Honest to God.
Firstly let me put the disappointment of a complete mismatch aside. Chennai got annihilated, Dhoni sucked. But that's cricket. I take it in my stride. Traveling 220 kms up and down to watch this match in the best possible seat on offer would have been tragic. Understandable nonetheless.
But boy oh boy do I rue that screwed up moment when I chose the 400 instead of 500 buck ticket, thinking what the frigging difference will it make as to what stand I chose. That choice ruined up the experience of not only a stadium, not only a city, but the entire state as a whole. Elaborate I must. Elaborate I will.
So these guys have this Hitchcock inspired stand names, we chose the west south one. Seemingly a harmless choice, but even Hitchcock wouldn't have anticipated such a cruel twist of fate. The signs on the ticket were ominous enough. Pink color coded stand in Pink city, what was I thinking? It would all have been nice in a tweens Barbie world simulation match. Real life is tough.
The screwing dumb wits had the stand designed like a damned roadside maidan. The essential element of a stadium i.e. the constant increase in elevation of stands as rows went back was not figured out I guess. They had put all chairs, all at almost the same level, which meant that people even 3-4 rows behind could have an iota of a chance of catching a glimpse of any action. Barring the soda pop guy selling his stuff.
As it is people tend to get excited in cricket matches. They shout at players like they are next door acquaintances almost sure of getting a response. The presence of cheerleaders aggravates and compounds the situation. All this meant that everyone in the entire stand was not only standing, but standing on the chairs. To add to the agony, instead of standing still, most were jumping and dancing and waving which does not do good to your anger when you are already irritated.
We tried our best to restore sanity. We begged, we pleaded, we implored people to sit down. But the moment a ball was about to be bowled everyone stood up again. We resorted to slandering, abusing people and got full sport from fellow back rowers. Again, the effect was short lived.
Irritated beyond words, and disappointed, we had to do what the other were doing. Stand on our chairs to watch the action. We could only convince ourselves to do it once in a while, letting out our frustration at the people in front in the meanwhile. The match on ground didn't help the mood.
This watching experience matches the one in Keenan, Jamshedpur that I had quoted in my previous post.
Mohali better be good :)