Idnia, Nov. 3 -- Let me begin with a confession: I am not a cricket buff. Never was. Never pretended to be. I do not wake up at ungodly hours to watch men (or women) in white or blue chase a ball that, more often than not, refuses to move fast enough to justify the excitement.
If you ask me, my heart was always with football. I once bought a second-hand ball that needed restitching for Rs 2, collected from my friends. It's the beautiful game where passion beats show-off, where even a barefoot boy can become a star, where 90 minutes decide it all - and where no one has to spend five long days pretending to enjoy a slow-motion contest.
To my mind, cricket was a colonial offering India should have politely returned along with the last ship...
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