Long Live King Bruce. Review on Saurav Ganguly

Long, long ago there was this team of hugely talented people who won HUGE BATTLES at home, back-to-back, continuously. Non-stop. They were known as the Tigers. When they roared, the opposition teams pissed in their pyjamas. But once they left their shores, the story was different. Like Yudhishtra they lost everything, even their pyjamas. When they peed, the whole world saw them. What was wrong? These were super-talented people and one of them was even considered to be the best. Yet, they lost everything, even their pride and pyjamas when they left the confines of their homes. What was wrong? Did they forget to carry their kits when they went abroad? No, I think they forgot to take with them their pride, their self-confidence and their balls. Not the cricketing ones you see, but the ones which instil in men their self-worth and their pride, their everything. People called them PAPER TIGERS and TIGERS ONLY AT HOME.

As if the humiliation of being buggered outside their home turf was not enough, some important players were maligned, their faces blackened with soot, their backsides whipped. "CORRUPT! CORRUPT! CORRUPT!" A nation that was already bereft of heroes, sunk further in the abyss. It was gloom all over. Despondency took over.

And then there was light.

A masterstroke was played out by a "Bunch of Jokers". The best player had refused to lead the losers, he wanted to sharpen his arsenal. So the jokers looked around and found someone. He was a Prince by lifestyle and a Maharaja by nickname. He promised to build the kingdom once again from scratch. He promised them that soon his team would not forget to carry their balls with them when boarding a flight. But for that he needed men who actually had balls. He kept a few old war horses with him and discarded the rest. "You've already been castrated, so there's no hope for you." He looked around, saw A Few Good Men and began his mission in earnest. He won a small, inconsequential battle with the minnows. His team mowed them. "What's the big deal?" People asked, "They're babies." "So what?" he retorted. "I'll nourish them into mature adults, make them world beaters." People laughed at him. But he didn't care. He wanted warriors, who could fight, struggle and win wars for him, not those lived a cocooned existence and cried "Help" whenever under siege. So he fought for them, rubbed the powers that be the wrong way but got his men. He must have breast-fed them, sung them a lullaby and even spanked them. No wonder some of them swear by him even today.

His team started winning wars, small ones and some even big ones. The battles, however, still eluded them. Yet, people had begun to smile as a turnaround was visible. His men were now fighting bitter battles and had begun to win wars. Off the battlefield also, he started an image makeover. From spineless, hapless, smiling gentlemen, he turned his team into a unit of fire fighters. For this again, he was responsible. He took off his pants in full public view and showed the world HIS BALLS. He rubbed the biggest and strongest of the opponents by playing their mind games with them. They snarled in disdain but had to give the devil its due. There were the bloopers as well. Every victory was invariably followed by a huge defeat. So what? At least, the tigers were now living up to their potential. His troops also made it to the culmination of the biggest event of the sport. That they lost breath at the final hurdle is another story, or maybe part of the same story that was fast heading towards a grand climax. The team had got momentum and the victories were fast coming. The icing on the cake was a huge victory on the shores of its arch-rivals and a moral victory in the den of the sport's biggest bullies.

That was it. His fuel soon ran out. His sword got blunted. And his words therefore carried no weight behind them. But he continued living in his own world of blissful ignorance. Soon calls for his head started making the rounds. But he laughed away all signals. People were trying to wake him to reality. "Smell the coffee, " he was told. But he had developed sinus. And one day, it happened. He was not allowed to enter his own kingdom. "You are banished. Stay away from this place."

For over a year he wandered in the forest not knowing what his future was. And then he read the story of King Bruce and the spider. In fact he became King Bruce himself. He sharpened his blunted weapons and entered the kingdom. He was ready for the fight once again. A few negotiations later, he entered the battlefield reborn, but this time as a soldier. And he fought. And he fought. And what a fight it was - not majestic and imperial as in days of yore but gritty and full of blood, sweat and toil. For some reason, he was still despised. Maybe for his cockiness in asking for the kind of guys he wanted, maybe for his imperial ways and maybe because he was not allowing the powers-that-be to bury him.

He knew that his time was running out on him. Fast. Very fast. An assassination was just round the corner. He could be murdered in the most brutal manner in the middle of the night without anyone even getting a whiff of it. So he sat across the table with the powers-that-be once again and struck a deal. "I'll leave you guys in peace. Don't kill me. Let me battle it out one final time." He got the nod.

Thus began the final contest. And what a contest. He played an important, very important part in dominating the world champs with steely displays each time he touched his sword. The entire nation watched in disbelief. This man was reinstating his mythical status all over again. This time his battle was devoid of all dramatics and theatrics. The soul was at peace with itself and the mind focused. All grudges were forgotten, they were just not important anymore. What was important was the eye of the golden fish and he was Arjuna.

His cubs had now become lions whose roars had begun to be taken seriously. As the final evening began to set in, the new leader asked his mentor to lead his team to glory. He assented and then smilingly handed back the baton to the new emperor. "It's your job now. Not mine anymore.

"The battle was won and the mythic hero smiled and walked into the shadows, carried on the strong shoulders of his team. HIS TEAM.

Long live King Bruce!

May the spider liver longer!!!