26/3/15

Dear Diary,

After two weeks sleeping on a mates couch the lure of sleeping in a real bed is too great to get up early and I wake up without a sore neck for the first time in a fortnight. No chance of a sleep in though as the taxi driver from yesterday has handed on my number to several people who all insist on phoning me at 7am. I tell the first guy my story and that I will take face value for the ticket and he offers me half the ticket cost claiming to be a poor student. I think back to my student days and remember that it was the most affluent time of my life. I tell him good luck in his quest to find a ticket for half price in a sold out stadium and hang up. The next three calls follow a similar theme. By the time the fourth call is taken I ask for more than the ticket price and say ‘No haggling’. Naturally haggling ensues and we settle on face value. (Uggh , Syndey!)

When I arrive at the S.C.G. the place is buzzing with people who are up for a good time in the afternoon sunshine. Fun, laughter, music, dancing its all happening. I join in something that looks like it might be trying to be a conga line for a while because it was heading toward the meeting point for my spare ticket buyer. When I get there I discover that one of my bottles of cola has burst in my bag and has been leaking all over the place. Thankfully the open bag of crisps I had in there has soaked up most of the spillage so the damage is minimal but the crisp packet resembles the inside of a stomach. It puts me off eating anything for a while.

My buyer, Jay, arrives once I’ve finished cleaning up and we exchange tickets. He is cheering for India and I’m for Australia so we have a laugh about the potential tension between us that will brew throughout the day but both end up saying that we just hope for a good game. I head into the stadium but he waits for some of his friends that are still scrambling for tickets to arrive.

Australia win the toss and chose to bat first. The chat is that a score of 370 looks on offer and everyone licks their lips in anticipation. The atmosphere is electric before a ball has been bowled with an almost equal amount of Aussies and Indian fans mixed up in the stands. Various chants start up and the competition for loudest fans starts in earnest.

When Warner is out in the 4th over it’s the Indian fans that are winning the chant wars. Smith and Finch form a big partnership that set up Australia with a huge platform to launch from and at the 30 over mark they are 155/1 on pace for a huge total. Smith brings up his 100 in 89 balls. There are still 17 overs to go. There's a feeling that he could get a huge score but a drinks break sees his wicket fall soon after and hes out for 105.

Ground staff are handing out free flags and I claim one as a nice wee souvenir but a lot of other people use them to taunt other people around then. (uggh, Sydney)

The 200 comes up in the 35th over and considering that most teams have been adding 100 runs in the last 10 overs throughout this tournament it still looks like a massive total is on the cards. But India choke the runs and Maxwell and then Finch are out to ugly shots and all of a sudden Australia’s innings looks like it could fall apart to the point where its possible to think that they might not make 300. Eventually they end on 328/7 thanks to some late lofty hitting from Johnson but a good start has been squandered.

India lose a wicket in the first over .. or do they? looks good on first view and even the replays look fine, well, besides that last one, and the 3rd umpire gives it not out after being consulted by the on field officials. A dropped chance by wicketkeeper Haddin sees India riding their luck but they are still behind the run rate early on. That is until Faulkner’s first over which goes for 16 which gets India back in the run scoring groove. Australia dish up some ordinary bowling and India are keen to punish all the rubbish until Dhawan is out for 45 giving the Aussies the breakthrough they were looking for in the 13th over.

The chanting competition between the Ozzie and Indian fans heats up and becomes more taunting as Australia claw their way back into the match with the wickets of Kohli for 1 and Sharma for 34. The taunting in the crowd is reflected on field too as Raina and Stark have a mid pith ‘discussion’. Three short balls has Raina ducking and walking down to confront Stark and words are exchanged. I hope it doesn't get any uglier on the pitch or in the crowd too.

When Raina is out caught behind in the 23rd over there is a flashpoint in the crowd near me and security have to remove two beery Ozzie oiks (uggh, Sydnay.) At no point in any other game has there been any prospect of violence erupting, but thats Sydney for you. It’s a city with an aggressive edge that bubbles to the surface with a minimum of effort at any, and almost every, opportunity. It takes a certain type of person to live here and its usually the type of person I go out of my way to avoid. Awful.

After 30 overs India are 138/4 (D/L par = 205) and are well behind the pace. Dhoni comes in and settles in. India need to get a move on if they want to stay in the match. With 18 overs to go the run rate is already at 10 per over. After a drinks break some intent is shown but the crowd think its too late and start to filter away. The Aussies because they think they have it won, the Indians to avoid watching the final indignity and the neutrals because they are bored. A dropped catch in the 41st over sees the Indian 200 come up but by this point everyone in the crowd wants to be put out of our misery. Dhoni gets his 50 with a 6 but he’s left his run too late and a direct hit sees the end of his innings. He didn’t even look like he was trying to make his ground, all he had to do was put his bat down and he would have been safe. perhaps he was as bored as the rest of us by this tailing away of the Indian effort and wanted to end it sooner rather than later too.

A few more wickets and then thats it. Game over. India lose by 95 runs with 3.1 overs remaining as they ran out of steam.

Comprehensive victory to Australia who go on to join New Zealand who are already waiting for them in Melbourne at the final.

p.s. The chap I sold my ticket never showed up in the seat next to me. Perhaps he was just a collector of tickets and needed this one to complete his collection. No matter, my bag had a seat to itself for the entire game sitting in the seat where my Sista was meant to be sitting. Every now and then I would say to it “Here, hold this for me a minute Sista.” and put my drink bottle back in it. Well, that's what she gets for standing me up and turning me into a scalper. Being compared to an old bag seems like a light let off really.

Next stop, Melbourne and the BIG MATCH : The Final.


"Look for the ridiculous in everything and you will find it." Jules Renard - (1864 - 1910)