‘Mumbai Maidan cricket has lost its charm’

While continuing his work, Laluram pricks his hand by mistake with one of his old tools.

“Bura to lagta hai jab humari team haarti hai, jab humare bache kharaab shot maarke out hote hai,” says Ramchandra Shahu, the pitch curator at Cross Maidan, one of the most popular grounds in Mumbai where the cricketing culture of the city thrives.

Shahu has an opinion about everything related to what happens on the ground. Be it the selection policy of the clubs or Mumbai team’s Ranji performance. It is obvious that cricket is seeped deep in his DNA – but it is only restricted to the happenings of the maidan cricket in Mumbai.

Even as he is busy watering some of the vacant pitches, he takes time out to go and get a letter he got from a ‘bade aadmi’ (big man). He can’t read the letter, but he knows that he has been invited to a big function.

“Waha chicken, mutton, lollypop sab milta hai khaane ke liye. (There is a tasty non-vegetarian cuisine on offer in these functions),” he says.

Little does he know that he is going to be felicitated for his exceptional work in preparing pitches for the Times Harris Shield tournament. VVS Laxman is going to present him with the award, but Shahu doesn’t know him. All he knows is that Laxman is a former Indian player.

He loves his game, but for him the life of cricket starts and ends with the maidans of Mumbai. Sitting quietly next to him is Laluram. Busy in stitching gloves, he doesn’t talk much. He has been travelling all the way from Kalwe everyday for 18 years to stitch gloves of local cricketers in Mumbai. There aren’t many in the city, definitely none better as the young cricketers feel. In fact some of them travel from as far as Pune to get their gloves stitched from him. But he isn’t a cricket enthusiast either. “I barely manage to find some time from work. There is no time to follow cricket.”

He continues with his story of how he got into the profession, taking over the business from his uncle, who lost his way due to excessive alcohol. “Sharaab ne sab barbad kar diya (Alcohol destroyed everything),” Laluram says dejectedly.

He doesn’t want his son to get into this profession, he does not care who takes over from him. The emergence of readymade gloves has already disturbed Laluram’s business and he is sure, in years to come, the artist will die; local cricketers won’t need them any longer.

While continuing his work, Laluram pricks his hand by mistake with one of his old tools. I ask if he is alright, but he isn’t too shaken. “This is nothing new. I keep getting these cuts, keep getting hit by the balls. These are the basic hazards of the profession,” Laluram smiles.

Looking at Shahu, he says, “When Ramu prepares good batting wickets, the frequency of balls coming towards me is higher.” All three have a hearty laugh at this, but Shahu soon takes the topic to pitches and the emphasis laid on it by young cricketers these days.

“Young boys who come to play cricket these days are more concerned about the pitch, about protective gears and the weather conditions. Little do they realize that cricket is a simple game between bat and ball. They complicate matters and when they fail, they blame the pitch among a thousand other excuses.”

“I reach at 7 in the morning to take care of 21 pitches on the ground. The matches start at 9.30, but my work goes on till 7 pm in the evening. I prepare my pitches like a mother prepares her child for school. Yet so many cricketers place the blame of their performances on the wickets. They forget cricket is supposed to be played with bat and ball.”

“They blame if there is grass, they have issues if there are cracks. This attitude is something that has even frustrated the old-timers and coaches. I prepare pitches to ensure that neither the spinners nor the pacers get all 10 wickets”

Even as Mumbai’s performance in Ranji Trophy has disappointed him, he doesn’t feel it has anything to do with the lack of talent or application. Nonetheless, he is confident that the overall quality has diluted with the rise in players and coaches. “There are more coaches and players in the maidan, but few spectators to watch these days. The old charm has gone”

Shahu takes a bat and shadow practices under the sun. He says he can’t leave the willow once he holds it, but his work gives him little time to play the game. He last played in a ‘Parents vs Coaches’ matches where he bagged six wickets with his leg breaks. Little does he know, like Laluram, that he has been contributing for nearly two decades in the biggest centre of Indian cricket. His love is earning him his livelihood, without him realizing that it his passion that keeps him going.

(Aayush Puthran is currently a reporter with India.com. He has previously worked as a cricket journalist with CricketCountry and as an Associate Producer with Sony Six. Mercurially jovial, pseudo pompous, perpetually curious and occasionally confused, he is always up for a light-hearted chat over a few cups of filter kaapi!)