Twenty Fifth June

June 25, 1983 holds a special place in my heart and perhaps in the hearts of almost all 1.4 billion Indians. This was the day when cricket and its popularity zoomed overnight in the country and beyond its boundaries. It was the much-needed fillip; a tipping point and perhaps our own zeitgeist. It sort of dispelled George Orwell’s dystopian forecast for 1984 and was a catalyst for major sporting landmarks that arrived one after the other in 1984 – It was the first time that all athletes stayed under one roof at the Los Angeles Olympics village, the world saw the emergence of Carl Lewis, Ed Moses and Mary Lou Retton; Michael Jordan was a 1^st round pick in the NBA draft, John McEnroe won the Wimbledon for the third time; the term “Super Saturday” was coined on September 8, 1984 when all the four matches played at the US Open tennis went the distance; And beyond sports, the Apple Mackintosh was launched for USD 2495. A lot of events to rejoice but more importantly almost all these events have had an iconic and everlasting impact on sports and life.

For everyone of my vintage (70’s born) as well as those born many decades before, the astonishing triumph of the underdogs led by Kapil Dev gave us the much-needed confidence and self-belief. Mind you, India in the 80’s was a country struggling for an identity across almost all spheres of life.

Luckily for many of us, the 1982 Asian Games had forced the U.S.S.R influenced socialist government in India to allow import of colour television sets. And unbelievable concept to the millennials and Gen Z. Yes, we had an Onida branded JVC colour TV at home and had gotten used to enjoying some sporadic coverage of international events. The 1983 cricket World Cup was covered on the beloved Doordarshan (a state-owned television channel). But this coverage was literally in bits and pieces and the live streaming was stopped every half hour or so to allow for the news or any other show that the broadcaster thought was more important than the World Cup, including the finals. Yes, there was just one channel available to view everything and anything. We were at the mercy of some clueless soul.

During the summer of 1983, I had made the first major decision of my not yet teen life; to switch school so that I could start playing proper hard ball cricket. I had moved to a school that had a proper cricket team and it was only my second season of training and playing matches. I was ready and eager to watch whatever cricket coverage that I could lay my ears and eyes on, so that I could bolster my technique and understanding of the game. We had watched India play most of its World Cup matches in bits and pieces including the epic semi final win over England. So, on the day of the finals, a few friends decided to watch the game at the house of Shashank who was the eldest among us. Also, one among a handful who owned a colour TV. Many were proud owners of a black and white TV, but a colour TV was a prized and rare possession. (even the toothbrushes then were black and white). I remember watching the entire Indian innings, since mercifully for us the news started only after seven in the evening. It was sheer disappointment to watch India bowled out for 183. None expected India to win, but we hoped that we would put up a fight since we had defeated the mighty West Indies during one of the league games and even during a bilateral series played before the World Cup in West Indies. So perhaps there was some suppressed hope.

I am not exactly sure, but perhaps we witnessed live, Gordon Greenidge bowled by the ball of the tournament by the affable Balwinder Sandhu. And then there was a longish break with news and other entertainment that took over. We rushed to switch on the radio and listen to the expected massacre from the great Viv Richards. My closest buddy, Shailu and I were glued to whatever allowed us access to the live proceedings and then Kapil Dev and not Ranveer Singh miraculously caught the great master. Another iconic moment from the tournament. Wickets tumbled after that but we could only listen and I do not remember if that was also clearly audible.

Suddenly with half the West Indian side back in the pavilion, someone at the broadcasting studio decided to take pity on all of us and the live coverage commenced. We were at the edge of our seats as first Larry Gomes, then Bacchus, then Dujon after a decent partnership with Marshal that almost led us to despair, departed. It was now only three more wickets for the unthinkable to happen. Marshall was soon out caught by our little master in the slips, followed by Andy Roberts and now only Holding and Garner remained. There were scary memories of these two winning games from impossible situations for their team in the past and we watched hoping for that not to happen. They batted for quite some time and then Jimmy Amarnath got the leg before decision in his favour.

There was mayhem, hugs, tears of joy and screams all over. We could hear firecrackers through the night; congratulatory calls made to all and sundry on the landline telephones (shared a pic above to refresh good old memories). For the next few months, the entire country was on an imaginery pedastal and with school re-opening soon, the only topic was our triumph. I am sure, most of us can yet clearly remember every wicket and the few amazing shots played by Shrikant, Amarnath, Kapil and Sandip Patil. I can still jot down from memory the entire scorecard with very little error. Those were amazing times.

With India slated to play the T20 World Cup finals today, hope the new generation can experience the same joy that we did forty-one years ago. Try switching off the channel when Rohit is in full flow, about to face Kagiso Rabada and watch the news. You may perhaps empathize with your parents and grandparents. This could be your own way of acknowledging the sacrifice we made on the twenty fifth of June, 1983.

What are your memories of that day? Please share those in the comments section.