I’ve seen
a lot of my teammates walk away from the game—most of the time without the
slightest warning, without even saying goodbye. I have watched as they faded
away into the distance, and each time I have regretted that I/we never got a
chance to celebrate their achievements.
Recently,
another teammate, one of my dearest friends, chose to step away from the game
we love so much. It has still not sunk in. Playing in a
Hyderabad team without her will be strange, and I won’t believe it is possible
until it actually happens. When I heard the news, I realized that I didn’t want
to regret letting her fade off, and that it was time to celebrate a career that has
had a huge impact on mine.
To me,
Mantravadi Shalini will always be a super star. When I first started playing,
she was the senior whom I used to carry extra peanut butter sandwiches for, who
was the ‘princess’ of camp because she had the most number of ‘fans’, and who
came whizzing in on her TVS Scooty milliseconds before the sessions were due to
start.
I
remember the first hundred she scored for the state (then Andhra Pradesh) at
sub-junior (Under-16) level. We were playing Gujarat, not necessarily one of the strongest
teams, but they managed to make early inroads and we were halfway through out
batting line-up for not more than 50. Shalini (referred to as Shalu later), who walked in at no.5,
assessed the situation calmly and proceeded to hammer the bowlers to all parts
of the ground on her way to an unbeaten 115. It was an innings of real
character, and for me, one that made her so special. She was captain of the
team and had been struggling with the bat, but she never once let the pressure
get to her. Granted, things got much easier after 25 overs (we were playing a 35
over match) when the bowlers and fielders got tired and started bowling full
tosses, but not once did she let her intensity drop.
It was the first of many knocks where she single-handedly turned the game on its head.
Years
later, once the BCCI took charge of women's cricket, Shalu had to reinvent herself from an accomplished
middle order player to an opening batter. In a line-up filled with the likes of
Diana David, Savita Nirala, Sravanthi Naidu and Mamtha Kanojia she was unable to
find a place in the XI, but she worked hard at her skill and fought her way
through to soon become the first name on the team list!
I was part of teams where she led from the front to inspire us to unlikely victories. She was a passionate captain-- one who shouted to make her anger and frustration evident, but she had a strange way of getting the best out of everyone.
I have
watched her play some incredible innings, running teams ragged with her terrific
strokeplay and rapid running between the wickets. She was the quintessential
cricketer—she could bat, bowl and field, and on her day, she could certainly
win a game on her own.
One such
day was back in 2011 in Ahmedabad. We (South Zone) were playing Central Zone in
the final of the NCA Inter-Zonal tournament and needed 175 to win. Having
faltered chasing an even smaller target against the same opposition in the
previous (league) match, we were determined to make amends, but none more so
than Shalu. She batted through the innings negating some early swing, absorbing
the pressure of a middle order collapse, and guiding the tail through the last
few runs. She finished unbeaten on 82, but to all of us who went charging on to
the field when the final runs were scored, her knock was worth so much more.
That
innings, deservedly, propelled her to bigger things—a Challenger series,
followed by a chance to face the visiting Australian team in 2012 (she was part
of the Board President’s XI)—but for some reason, she was unable to kick on.
There is
so much more I can say about Shalu, so many more innings I can describe, but if
I had to describe her as both a friend and a player I would have to say that
she was selfless. She was a team player through and through, and Hyderabad will
be poorer without her.
It was
not the numbers that made Shalu special, but the spirit she brought to the
team. At her best, she played with the freedom that few in the South do. When
she got going, there was absolutely no one who could stop her. The quicker, the
better—it was all cannon fodder for Hyderabad’s Quick Silver! With the ball,
she was highly underestimated. I believe she was a more useful and effective
bowler than many 'pure' bowlers. Once she got on a roll, she was pretty much a bowling machine, but
unfortunately, most often, it was the ‘getting on a roll’ that was difficult!
In the field, there was no one faster. No ball would pass, but if one got through it was 'head down and run hard', just like David Warner!
Hyderabad
will miss her, of that I have no doubt, but I am pretty sure I will miss her
more. From someone whom I admired from a distance as a little kid, Shalu has
become a very, very good friend. She has been there every step of the way,
cajoling me on from mid-off, from wicket one (in every format) to now. She was
one person I knew I could count on… Someone whom I could have a laugh or a
serious chat with at the end of a hard day… She was the teammate who got me…
She knew what to say when and how… She pushed me to be better, taught me to
believe and made me a team player.
I always thought there would be so much more to her story. Confidence/ belief is a strange thing-- it never matters how many people believe in you, all that counts is how much you believe in yourself. The fact that she got where she did is a huge testament to her belief and wholehearted effort, but I suppose sometimes things just get away from you.
To the
captain under whom I started my career, thank you for everything. You are a
star, no matter what!
👌❤
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