Yesterday evening I watched India vs New Zealand (T20) at VCA Stadium, Jamtha, with my son and my granddaughters. Three generations, one match, and my mind full of old memories.
It took me back to another India–New Zealand game I saw in Nagpur long ago, in 1969, at the old VCA ground at Sadar. I was a seventh-grade schoolboy then. I sat wide-eyed, counting every run, every wicket, every over. It felt as if the whole world lived inside those 22 yards. I still remember that first “real” match in a stadium. That excitement.
And then yesterday happened.
Strangely, it became a nameless, faceless match.
From where we sat, there was no big screen. The scoreboard was too far to read. For long stretches I had no idea who was batting, what the score was, how many wickets had fallen, or how many overs were left. I spent the evening doing what doctors are not trained for: guessing.
Only after the match ended did I realise Sanju Samson had opened. The one-drop batsman who came and went was Ishan Kishan. I lost count of Abhishek Sharma’s sixes. And, believe it or not, I did not even know Axar Patel was playing. For all I know, he could have been sitting next to us.
Still, something made up for it.
The crowd. The roar. The whistles. The chants of “India Jeetega!” For four hours, thousands of strangers felt like family. My granddaughters enjoyed every minute. They didn’t care about strike rates, partnerships, or who was on 44 not out. They only cared that India was hitting the ball into the night sky.
It took nearly an hour to walk barely a kilometre back to our car. We reached home past midnight, tired, hoarse, and happy.
Somewhere between Jamtha 2026 and Sadar 1969, I realised the game is the same, but the world (and the eyes watching it) has changed.
Three Generations, One Match2 min read
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I was a first-year BSc student living in the Institute of Science hostel in 1969 when that match took place in Nagpur. A friend got me a 10-rupee ticket for a single day.
I saw the whole Indian batting line-up go down, except for Bedi and Prasanna. I remember the king-sized New Zealanders like Dowling, the stylish Hadlee, and Glenn Turner. The Indian side had Abid Ali, Chandu Borde, Pataudi, Engineer, Venkataraghavan, Rusi Surti, and others. That was the first Test match I ever watched, and perhaps the first international Test held on the VCA ground.
There was such a fever among all of us hostellers! We also stayed glued to the transistor for commentary during the Australian team’s visit soon after under Bill Lawry. The voice of commentator Pearson Surita was so attractive that I started mimicking his English accent—it was very impressive.
Incidentally, Lawry lost one Test, and since Bedi had just married an Australian girl, the poet-comedian Kaka Hathrasi composed a poem about it. He wrote that Bedi said: ‘कुछ तो दहेज दो कानूनी भाई (brother-in-law/Lawry bhai)…’ And Lawry obliged: ‘मेरी पसंद का दहेज है बेस्ट, लीजिए हाजिर है दिल्ली का टेस्ट!'”
You should come to Ahmedabad to watch the match. A screen is visible from most sides I guess. And I am wondering why you didn’t carry a phone to check for scores!
The thrill of watching a match live is something you never forget. It took me back to the days when we used to listen to commentary on the radio… now it’s all on JioHotstar, whether on mobile or TV. Still, live cricket at the Nagpur ground is truly a great experience—especially when sharing it with the younger generation of the family.