The irony of it all: Bitter for Kumble, sweet for Gilchrist

It was sweet-bitter irony for Anil Kumble on Sunday. In his first over, he dismissed danger man Adam Gilchrist, went on to take four wickets in one of the boldest and cleverest bowling performances in Twenty20 cricket anywhere, his batsmen had only a modest 144 to chase for victory, and yet Bangalore failed to win the title.

Kumble’s forlorn walk back to the pavilion after the final over had been bowled, shoulders drooped, head shaking from one side to another, was eloquent testimony to his feelings. Is there anything more that he could have done? Is there anything that can get more heartbreakingly cruel than sport?

Consider also the case of Kumble’s mate in several teams over the years and his steadfast friend Rahul Dravid. Sidelined from the captaincy this year, Dravid’s future in Twenty20 cricket looked insecure. But he struck good form and made a crucial 46 in the semi-final to suggest that he could be the key player in the final too. In the event, he had a match that would have left him with a sense of horror at his own errors for some years at least, one reckons.

First, he dropped a sitter at slip to give Symonds a reprieve when the batsman was on five. Dravid, as we know, holds the record for the highest number of catches in Tests and is a specialist slip fielder. Nine times out of ten he would have taken the catch blindfolded but this was that one occasion when he let the ball pop out of his hands with both his eyes wide open.

If that was not enough setback for a day, worse was to follow. Bangalore seemed to have the match in their grip with Ross Taylor and Dravid enjoined in a partnership that was looking comfortable and productive when the latter was struck by a sudden burst of madness.

In playing perhaps the ugliest stroke of his life — a premeditated sweep off Harmeet Singh — Dravid lost his leg stump, and from then on Bangalore lost the plot too. A match that should have been won easily, was surrendered in agony.

But where there are losers, there will always be winners, and while sport can sometimes be cruel, it oftentimes throws up delightful surprises too. Gilchrist, for example, was a winner despite his first-over blob and after finishing bottom of the heap last year, Hyderabad had zoomed right to the top this time.

Indeed, the topsy-turvy nature of sport serves as a microcosm of life itself. The lesson in this — for players, franchise owners, all of us — is that success and failure are transitory, but hope must be eternal.