fanboy

“Did you know Sachin hit 100 100s ?”

“Nadal is number one now”

“Portugal is through,omg CR… oh you don’t watch no?”

I know, I know all of this and more. The media had managed to etch it into my brain. But, I’m very confident that if you ask me next week I might not recall any of this. I can never recall Djok’s grand slam tally. Neither can I recall Dravid’s count of centuries. I love watching those guys play though. I Egg them on; Shout at the TV pretty much like any other fan.  I’d in fact drop everything and just watch them play if I could afford to drop everything and watch them play. I’m a fan of those two you know? The problem is sometimes, in social circles, I can’t claim to be a fan. I have no idea what he did last week.I have no idea where he is next week. I did not follow them properly, I forgot, my bad, it is really a shame. So! it seems I’m not really a fan. Oh dear! I’m crushed. Well… not really.

I do not hold anything against statistics or numbers. When you are a keen follower of a game, you naturally gather stats, scores, the dates, match venues etc. the problem is sometimes, amongst the crowd, there are people who are not that good with numbers or dates, or people who have pressing demands but appreciate it nonetheless at leisure, or people who really don’t care about what happened earlier or what might happen consequently. These people might not know the exact match, location or the opposition but a sense of déjà vu when a shot plays out in front of them is as good a validation of their love for the game as any other.

“What kind of fan are you?” 

Without fandom, deification, the sporting world would be devoid of a lot of fun. These people pique interest in the plebs lurking in the periphery, letting them enjoy a few moments of unfettered joy vicariously (what a snooty sentence already), thus initiating them to the game. A sportsman, for every fan, is a man who inspires him, a man who stands for his personality, beliefs and standards and wins games validating it. When a fan supports an underdog it lets him fight his demons and he rejoices when his man wins, it inspires him to be dogged and dedicated. While supporting a winner, he is inspired to be perfect, to be the best at what he does, and to be more regimental with his schedule. Sometimes, he decides to start hitting the gym the next day but the day never comes. These emotions, the feeling of victory or loss that course through watching a sport, which can be only perceived by the TV were it a living thing, cannot be quantified in numbers, stats or memory.

If you were willing to give me a penny, I'd tell you that the term ‘fan’ is pretty fickle. The barometer for measuring it is even more so. The point is, I believe it is perfectly fine to go around doing your household chores while stopping for a second to admire a perfect smash from Saina. It is also ok that you missed the better smashes or did not know about them. It is alright to watch a sport as a movie, as a transient phenomenon, as a background noise or as a companion when you need it. I believe, Watching sport is a very personal and rewarding experience. You don’t need to know everything.You don't need to convince anyone. You just need to know enough to appreciate a long rally, a brilliant lap, a perfect straight drive, or the whole 90 minutes of football without being bothered about its prognosis, and you are still in no-way a lesser mortal than the other.

So you think you can biology record?

That was just wonderful, don’t you think so? OMG It blew my mind. The way you drew the respiratory system; the skill, coordination; Not one wrong stroke. It’s one of the more difficult things to draw and your dexterity was there for all to see. I’m still a little distracted, let me complete ogling at it. Oh ya, I love you, Well done kid, It’s a 10 from me.

Haha… Mani my man, you were awesome. I thought the bryophyllum leaf last week was below par. It was amazing, but I believed you were capable of more. You have just slammed my case shut. The concentration on your face, the way you bit your pencil. The lungs were perfect and the final flourish with the man’s nostrils were awesome.  For me, you are the shining example of why this show is such a great success. This is precocious talent right in front of you, India.  

Few things can be taught, some skills are inborn. You have a unique gift of drawing biology diagrams so beautifully. In my younger days, I’d have bribed you to complete my record work for me. It's is really good to see you have improved a lot from last time.That is something because I thought last week's work was your magnum opus. A hat tip to you, Girija ma’am, It’s a nice routine that you have picked for him, the respiratory system, allowing him to showcase his variety. This is a 10 from me too Mani. Well done…

Empty

You have been driving for a long while now. As you ease out of a toll booth, you witness the break of dawn. With another hour and a half to go to your destination, you crank up the volume in your stereo system and listen to it for some time. You sing along. But, after a few lines,you switch it off in disgust. It has been a arduous journey and the repetitive rhythm is getting on your nerves . A few minutes pass. The road stretches ahead, not a vehicle in sight. The first rays of the sun break through. It’s a sight to behold. The contrast and the tone, breathtaking. 

This is beautiful. I can finally get the grime off me. If I make it in 45 minutes I’d probably catch a wink before the day starts. Hope the traffic remains lean. Half an hour is better than nothing. Let me switch this thing back on. *Song 25 of 40*. Hmmm, 15 songs in total, one and a half hours, let me see if can reach before the tenth. *blasts off leaving a trail of throbbing beats*

This is beautiful. I should probably stop. I might end up spoiling the mood if  I stop, and even worse decide to get out. Let's go slowly, enjoying the cold breeze, view,*cranks open the window*. Ah! I can always catch up on lost sleep tomorrow. I should definitely have a hot cup of tea somewhere, would complete this perfect picture. Let’s see what are my melodies? Ha *song 25 of 40* I'm in luck... *whistles along as the guitar strums*

what was I thinking about? sleep? coffee? boss? .*blanks*. Hey it has become awfully quiet. *stops accelerating and glides along releasing the gears. The car slowly comes to a stop. everything is quiet, even the crickets are quiet.* what am I doing here? Why am I in the middle of nowhere? Where am I going with this? I have driven all the way here, great!! now what? why can't I go back? What if I take the next left and disappear forever from civilization? Wait, do I have money on me? Do they have ATMs in villages? might be an issue if they don't have. Ok I'll sell this car, maybe.*pauses..... laughs*. Why am I doing this to myself? I should have brought someone along; at the least I wouldn't be having an existential crisis at 6 am. Sun is boring, the grass is boring, the moon is boring, the car is boring, the songs are such a big bore. What is the point of all this? *gets out of the car, takes a deep breath, stretches*. Ok there is no point, let me just get home. * gets in swiftly, revs it up and screams away, the noise of his engine muting his voice.*