Byeline 2014

Old Monk and the World Cup
Adit Ganguly
One of the main reasons I became a sports journalist was the FIFA World Cup. That one month of page-making finally boiled down to the day I had waited for all my life. It's a fixture most people would never forget. Such was the anti-climax that night that I, for a change, don't remember what happened in the second half between Germany and Argentina on July 13. Alcohol and football make a deadly combination, I was to realise. Three large pegs of Old Monk in the first half and I was knocked out stone cold. But I did wake up in time (extra-time) to watch Andre Schurrle pass the ball to Mario Goetze, who entered the history books. July 15, 2018 is a date I have already marked in my calendar. Lightning surely won't strike twice.

Of horses, betting and pace
Anil Dias
As a sports lover and writer, I've had the privilege of covering many events. Exciting as they may be, nothing comes close to the Indian Derby. The 2014 edition took place on February 2. A day prior to the race, the organisers took us on a tour of the Mahalaxmi Race Course where we saw the horses/fillies swim and then run on a treadmill. Yes, you heard that right, they warm-up on a treadmill! The actual event was much more than a festival. Fancy hats, long dresses, cartons of betting money (literally) and plenty of alcohol. It all boiled down to the main race, with Muroi being the favourite. Imagine everyone's nightmare when rank outsider Alaindair won the race and Muroi finished out of the board. While Muroi headed back to the stable, people started cursing him. I swear there were a few tears too. I'd never seen such sadness, hatred or enthusiasm at a sporting event before.

This is Dada speaking
Rutvick Mehta
I was waiting for lunch in my usual restaurant when I made one of the most cherished phone calls of my life. I was supposed to interview Sourav Ganguly, my idol, ahead of the England series. I had never spoken to him, but had always dreamt of the moment I would get to do so. And there I was, talking to to him about one of India's most important tours. "Hi Dada, how are you?" I said. I was trembling. "I'm good, Rutvick. How are you?" he asked. How could I be? I was living my dream. I let the fan within me take over for a few seconds. I told him how big an admirer I was of him, and that he was my inspiration. "Thanks Rutvick. That's so sweet of you," he said. I was told he is an arrogant man, but during the course of my seven-minute chat, not once did I feel so. He answered all questions aptly, even the tough ones on MS Dhoni's captaincy. And as the conversation was coming to an end, the fan inside me came out again. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Dada. And hope to see you soon," I said. "Sure. Thanks again, Rutvick," he shot back. The call ended. I took a deep breath. The masala dosa never tasted better.

Telly times
Nikhilesh Pathak
For a sports correspondent, experiencing and reporting on the electrifying atmosphere prevailing on the field gives you a kick. But there are few sporting events which are equally thrilling when watched on television. The FIFA World Cup is one such event. Reporting on the extravaganza still remains a dream, but those four weeks were no less refreshing. The contagious 'football fever' had caught everyone's attention, but only five were infected (in office). Three of us had even purchased a jersey of our favourite team and donned it during the matches. A senior scribe from the city desk with abundance of football knowledge triggered debates. He talked about the World Cup from 1970-1990. The arguments became routine, but it pushed me to read football history. We also had an exercise — who will win? (no betting). Though I have reported on many events, watching the World Cup on TV was my favourite sporting moment of 2014.

Dispelling notions
Taus Rizvi
There were many firsts during the Mumbai and Jammu & Kashmir Group A Ranji Trophy tie. J&K played the 40-time champions for the first time. It was their first time at the iconic Wankhede. It is a different matter that they defeated Mumbai convincingly. When we entered the press box, we saw another first — a woman in black chador (a piece of fabric that Muslim woman use to cover themselves) greeting people and introducing herself as the media manager of J&K. Dispelling notions about Kashmiris, Shahana Fatima Zargar, 26, spoke to men with confidence, grace and remarkable fluency in English. She also busted the myth that Muslim women can't go out and work. Shahana, who is also the editor of a sports magazine in Srinagar, hails from a conservative family. However, she has sent out a strong message that a woman in hijab can be a thorough professional too.

Keep the prayers on
G Krishnan
As we entered 2014, we were praying for Michael Schumacher's recovery. Two other incidents shocked the sporting world. First, it was Jules Bianchi's accident at the Suzuka circuit in October and the death of Australian cricketer Phil Hughes in a Sydney hospital. There was a question mark over the Border-Gavaskar Trophy. We have known Australia to play cricket rough and tough. But when Hughes's teammates cried in public and their captain Michael Clarke fought to control his tears while speaking at the funeral, the oft-repeated 'Ugly Aussie' tag vanished. We were witness to Mitchell Johnson welcoming Virat Kohli with a bouncer in the Adelaide Test. Upset, he had to be pacified by captain Michael Clarke. But the Australians were soon back to their usual self, winning and doing it for Hughes and also mouthing off the Indians on the field. As we enter 2015, our prayers are with Schumacher and Bianchi. And we hope that a Hughes-like incident does not occur ever again.

Watching Hamilton, thinking Federer
Derek Abraham
Junkets are fun. Thanks to Malaysian oil major Petronas, I had the good fortune of watching Lewis Hamilton take the chequered flag at the British Grand Prix in Silverstone. But my money was on his Mercedes teammate and fierce rival Nico Rosberg. That's because he obliged me with a selfie before the start of the race. Also, he is German and not British! But that's not the story. All along, my heart was some 82 miles away. Yeah, it was a Super Sunday, so to speak. July 6, 2014. What stood between Roger Federer and a record eighth Wimbledon crown was Novak Djokovic. Not one TV in any of those uber-luxurious lounges beamed the tennis. It was unfair, I thought. But, then, what are smartphones for? Somehow I kept track of the goings-on. And by the time I stepped into the bus for our ride back to the hotel, Federer was playing like a man possessed in the fourth set. Got broken, broke back, broke again, held serve and took it into the fifth. Things went according to plan in the decider. Suddenly, it was 5-4 Djokovic. Federer had to keep his cool. As the bus drove into the parking lot of our Milton Keynes hotel, I ran to the bar. "After three hours and 55 minutes, Novak Djokovic has two championship points," announced the commentator. Djokovic didn't need a second invitation. Damn!

Chander Shekhar Luthra
I had always nursed a deep desire to enter the majestic portals of the Supreme Court of India. You get to see brilliant minds at work. There were numerous occasions when sports-related cases came up for hearing in the highest court of the land, but I had never got the opportunity to go beyond those big gates. Two decades after one put down the bat and picked up the pen, the opportunity presented itself in the form of investigations, hearings and legal proceedings on the IPL spot-fixing scam in the Supreme Court. With the case coming up for regular hearing before the special bench of Justices TS Thakur and FM Kalifullah in mid- November, I felt compelled to chase the case I had been following over the last few years. Soon, I procured a month-long pass. To say that the experience inside the court room was unbelievable would be an understatement. One had only heard of the hundreds of thousands of rupees people would spend on top lawyers. I saw just that. An impressive battery of counsels, representing the BCCI, N Srinivasan and others, sang in one tune to take the apex court for a ride. But the chorus failed to impress their lordships. As we enter 2015, I hope the tide will turn in favour of the gentleman's game rather than the gentlemen who preside over the sport's destiny!

Where's the KO punch, Sachin?
KR Guruprasad
For all the bloody cuts and broken noses, boxing has produced some of the finest literature. From Mike Marqusee's account of Mohammad Ali in The Redemption Song to Mike Tyson's honest and gripping narration of his story in Undisputed Truth, the brutality as well as the artistry involved in throwing punches to knock out another human being makes for compelling reading. So during a meeting with the press ahead of the release of his autobiography, Playing It My Way, Sachin Tendulkar told me he was inspired by books on the legendary Ali. That raised my expectations about his book. Much like boxing, cricket, too, has its share of good reads and I thought perhaps Tendulkar will throw some heavy punches much like the books that spurred him on. But I found Playing It My Way disappointing as it lacked the perspective and insights of the kind that Tyson's book talks about. I believe Undisputed Truth remains best sports book of the year and Tendulkar has failed to throw a knockout punch with his.