Don't Cuss At Me, Man!

Steve Waugh's autobiography aptly titled 'Out of my comfort zone' is a most rivetting account of cricket matches played by him and ofcourse. Due to continuous re-reads of chapters ,stopping.. soaking the emotions and giving my brain a breather from what is an absolutely captivating book, I am still 150 odd pages away from the last page of this tome. And am happy that there is still some ammunition left to keep me at the edge of my seat for some more nights. To give you a peek, as to what I had experienced go through the below account. My comments are in brackets. Over to Mr Waugh:

A volcano of emotions was brewing: frustation at my inability to get on top of the situation, anger at the booing that had greeted my arrival at the crease, irritation after a restless night's sleep and now Ambrose's bloody stare. A steepling bouncer that flew harmlessly over the top of my head was almost a relief, because it didn't pose a danger, so when I saw Ambrose staring intently from close quarters I snapped back at him ' what the fuck are you looking at?' This was a clear case of mouth beating the brain to the punch. It even took me by surprise. It was pure instinct as my survival mechanism took over. I wasn't just going to stand there and cop physical intimidation while Curtly was making a mockery of me with the ball and his gestures. It was fightback time and my last resort to get some impetus in my innings.Ambrose was clearly stunned, most likely because no one had ever been stupid enough to employ such an aggresive measure against him. Furthermore respect is very important at the Carribean, and when you swear directly at someone you donot show respect. Amby countered my bar talk bluff by saying 'dont cuss at me man'. Commonsense should have told me to leave it at that. But I needed to have the last go, to get all anger out and start afresh. Unfortunately nothing inventive or witty came to my mind, rather another piece of personal abuse: 'why dont you go and get fucked!'

Curtly's eyes were spinning and the situation rapidly escalated to the total point of ugliness. Thankfully Richie Richardson intervened and grabbed his great fast bowler by the wrist with both hands and attempted to yank him away tug of war style. Of course Amby didnt want to back down and I was also at the point of no return. We needed to show the Windies that it was our turn to dictate the terms and weren't afraid to get into their faces and get our hands dirty. Ego plays a healthy role in these type of situations; neither of us was willing to loose face by backing away. I was totally unsure what to do if he lunged at me, because I am certain he would have made light work of me even though I had the bat in my hands. I kept saying to myself, dont move dont move. Look tough, stay focused. He'll have to go away.Eventually he did.

However as he ran in to deliver the next ball, I braced myself for an Exocet missile at the throat. That would be his way of winning the battle. He put in the big ones, striding out to full pace before letting go an absolute scorcher of a bouncer that reared alarmingly off a shortish length and crushed my top hand against the handle of the bat, directly in front of my grill. ((It was actually a snorter...an absolute ripper of a delivery)) Such was the venom in the execution that I was foot off the ground at the time of impact. Again Amby was there, menacingly staring me down, but this time my lips were sealed. I'd already smashed the wasp nest open; there was no need to go back and trample on it.

For many players , getting involved in a confrontation is a death sentence for their performance as it consumes their thoughts. The guilt and embarrasment often lead to a loss of clarity, as most players cant compartmentalise and move on. I knew I could forget about it after using the altercation as motivation to do well. I never minded being the villain because it set me against the rest- a scenario that turned me on. Obviously being the bad guy had the same effect on Amby, because he finished this innings with figures of 5/65 from 16 overs, while I scrapped , scampered and stroked my way to one of my finest test knocks: 63 not out in a team total of 128 . ((It was also the only score above 50 for both teams for the entire match and considered by many as to be among the top Test knocks ever played)).

Me back again. Moment I finish the book I will be writing a tribute to the book and the man. I am sure the post would be a who's who of adjectives. Also after the read I need to change my dream team. I'll have to make some serious changes and it would be challenging. While I can't drop any of the players mentioned but I also have to make sapace for Mr S R Waugh. How I hope things were easy.