Ranji reporter turned lone ranger in Lahli

By Karthik Lakshmanan, Wisden India

“Best of luck sir, who are you playing against today?” asked my cab driver as I stepped out of the taxi outside the looming CH Bansi Lal cricket stadium in Lahli. It was November 15 and I had travelled nearly 1400 miles to cover the Ranji Trophy match between Haryana and Odisha. “I’m not playing, I’m a journalist.” “You have come to watch this match?Virender Sehwag bhi nahi hai na?”

Quietly proud that someone mistook me for a Ranji cricketer, I entered the ground only to be stopped by a puzzled security guard. Not expecting a journalist to turn up, he consulted with his boss, before finally allowing me, only somewhat convinced with the reason for my presence. More such bewildered looks awaited as I awkwardly made my way into the stadium. Even the media manager at the venue seemed perplexed and gave me a “who on earth is he and why has he come to watch this match all the way from Bangalore” look, but quickly made some makeshift arrangements to facilitate my work.

This was the overwhelming theme of my welcome to the ground. It was then that I found out that I would be the only reporter covering the game. Why, I was the only person in the ground apart from the players, officials and groundsmen. From my limited experience, the highlight of covering domestic matches, apart from easier access to players, is the opportunity to interact with fellow journalists in a relaxed atmosphere where various tales are exchanged and experiences shared. It was a bit frustrating to think I would miss out on all of that.

While I didn’t expect an entire media contingent, especially given Sehwag’s absence, I was hoping to meet at least a couple of local reporters. But that wasn’t to be. And then it hit me. I would be sitting alone for the next four days.

Conflicting thoughts ran through my idle mind as I watched the proceedings, sitting all alone with only an internet connection from the 1980s for company. Frankly, watching diligently wasn’t the easiest of things to do (especially after all the paneer-loaded lunches) and a part of me tried to convince me not to bother concentrating too hard for the reports, as nobody else would know what exactly happened anyway. (To those who read the reports, and to my bosses, trust me, this part of me didn’t win.)

Meanwhile, the over-ambitious journalist in me was hoping for something major or dramatic to happen so that I could be the only reporter to cover it. Thirty wickets in a day maybe? How about a Gautam Gambhir v Manoj Tiwary type incident? Or maybe the game called off due to a bad pitch?

As things turned out, nothing of the sort happened over the next four days, and a normal cricket match – Haryana forcing a draw after being made to follow on – unfolded before me.

But it was in this normalcy that lay the specialty of the experience. It was as typical a Ranji match as it could get – no big names, only one player with international experience, and not a single fan to watch from the stands. Every time a boundary was hit or a wicket taken, the only noise was from the teammates and the dressing room.

I could almost relate my situation to that of the players in the middle. Is someone, somewhere watching? Will the efforts be recognised? How difficult is it to stay motivated when there isn’t much external interest?

Personally, the unexpectedness of my presence – from the authorities’ point of view – enhanced my experience. With no separate arrangements made for the nonexistent media, I was allowed to dine in the same hall as the players during lunch. While the presence of a large notice with an anti-corruption hotline prevented me from making even small talk, it gave me an idea of something I’ve wondered for a long time: What exactly do players eat during lunch/tea? Answer: A full course meal!

Besides, realising that it would be a struggle for me to commute to the city from the stadium, which is in the outskirts, the Odisha team bus driver offered me a drop to my hotel along with the players – again, a first for me. All this meant that the initial bouts of boredom and apprehension of going through four lonely days gave way to a trip filled with wonderful experiences.

Not many, apart from perhaps Natraj Behera, who scored an unbeaten doublecentury in the game, will remember the Haryana v Odisha 2015-16 Ranji clash in Lahli a few years down the line. But for the only reporter in the stadium, it was an unforgettable, even memorable, match.