|
Oh Hansie! |
|||||
|
Thoughts
Without Boundaries Thoughts
of love & longing |
When I was a child, I was fascinated by Yudhisthir and his honesty. Even at the age of 8, I had seen enough of the world to know the value of the white and the not-so-white lie. And the thought of somebody who went through life without telling an untruth always left me in awe. And when it came to the part when he had to tell Dronacharya the semi falsehood about Ashwathama's death, it always choked me to think of his chariot no longer running inches off the ground. And Yudhisthir's becoming a fallible mortal like the rest of us bothered me to no end. Hansie you would not know about Yudhisthir. You may possibly have heard about the Mahabharata… or your hands may have been full with the precocious Tendulkar. And you may have spent all your time managing the prodigious talent at your disposal, with Zulu and Jacques and Shaun. But Hansie, you broke our heart! Just like Yudhisthir. You turned mortal! Maradona was never immortal. Not since the hand of god proved that he had feet of clay. Tyson wasn't immortal. Jordan and Pele came close. But you Hansie… you were not the star. You were the general. You were not Arjun, or Bhim. You were Yudhisthir. Its easy to imagine Shane Warne throwing a match. Its possible that Azharuddin is involved. I can believe Wasim Akram getting tired of turning out performance after performance pumped with injections to fight diabetes. I can imagine Steven Waugh, behind that poker face, letting the machiavellian thoughts run amock. I can believe that Brian Lara on a particularly moody day deciding that a few fast bucks could be better than another double century. Heck Viv Richards could have done it for the kick. Sachin Tendulkar could have done it if he was led astray as a boy. But Hansie? Hansie who's grim visage burned holes into my brain whenever South Africa lost? Hansie who's face radiated silent pain when his players under-performed? Who's intensity threatened to overshadow the exultation of many an Indian victory? I can close my eyes and see Hansie at cover, Hansie walking off the field. Hansie and his big eyes. And his unsmiling demeanour. Hansie who seemed to wear his down-to-earth honesty like a badge. Hansie who would be 12th man to add a new feather to his leadership crown. Oh Hansie! What's shaken is not just faith in you. Its faith in ourselves. Faith in our abilities to spot honesty. Shaken is our faith in the world. In truth. In fair play and in right. You've confused the balance between good and evil. You've shaken our faith in heroism. And in that, the faith we put on ourselves. You were our mirror of courage Hansie. You were the hero of cricket. You weren't playing for South Africa. Didn't you know that? You were playing for the game. You were the face of human strife. Honest, down to goodness grit, guts and glory. It's a simple formula Hansie. It's the stuff most legends are made of. The world cried when you picked up the runners up trophy in the world cup. Didn't you then realise Hansie, that you were destiny's son? And in front of you lay the two paths. And now it appears you chose to tread the path many many others had sullied before you. And you ceased to be the blessed. Your chariot touched the ground Hansie! Its funny, Hansie, you're crime is not that heinous. Now that all the hubbub is dying, what's left is a few distorted facts and a whole new perspective. You took a bribe to do your job less diligently. Its something so many people do as a matter of routine. Politicians, government servants, office goers, executives, security guards. But they aren't you. And now you're not you. You were within striking distance of immortality, Hansie. And now… now we'll never know. 2000
|
||||
|
|
|||||
