Dear Dhoni,
I’m not a sports writer. I haven’t seen you in action in all your Test matches. I wouldn’t know how you’ve fared when compared to Dada or Azharuddin.
But then, I don’t need to know any of this to write to you. I’ve got up early in the morning to watch you captain a team and bat when the Indian cricket team was touring. I’ve spent a lot of money and begged random people for tickets to IPL matches, just to watch you finish off a game. I’ve clung on to the MRTS in Chennai; your second home, to reach Chepauk to hear the lions roar.
Which is exactly why I wish to tell you that the decision to quit Test cricket was a brave one. There have been other cricketers in the past — and no, I’m not talking about anyone in particular — who have dragged their feet and overstayed their welcome. But you didn’t. You knew that you had stayed long enough and done whatever you could’ve done, and you left. Letting go must have been difficult and to not let us in on your decision, must have been tougher.
But, the decision to quit a major format of the game when the recently out-of-form Virat Kohli was just getting his groove back and ‘ready’ was a brilliant one. Yes, critics might still dissect the fact that you did so in the middle of a series, but we, as fans, are sure that you would’ve known that Kohli was ready.
That’s the thing with you, Captain. You just know what to do when. You just knew that Joginder Sharma was the man to turn to in the final of the World T20 in 2007. You just knew that Irfan Pathan was the bowler to pick on and go after that unforgettable Dharamshala match. You just knew that you had to promote yourself up the order to get us past Sri Lanka in the 50-over World Cup.
You just somehow know and we ove that.
When we watch you from the stands, we sometimes get to know how that works. You seem to have a premonition of things to come; the way you juggle your field for a wicket suggests that. I vividly remember one IPL match in which you walked all the way to the bowler, discussed something and made a man stand at a fielding position that old-timers would scoff at… but sure enough, you got us a wicket the very next ball.
When, as a reporter-fan, I approached you for a quote and you said, “Sorry, you gotta speak to the manager mate,” your approachability appealed to me. And then, when I saw you hugging Ashwin from behind and scaring him, just like how we do every day with friends, your candidness appealed to me.
Perhaps all this is due to your small-town roots. Something that you’ve not let go, despite international fame, money and recognition. Why else would you decide to, in the middle of a really hectic series, bike on a traffic-filled and busy Mount Road? Why else would you try sneaking into the city on a bike and then wait on the highway when it had flat tyre?
We love all these small things about you. They make Dhoni the man who, perhaps, is much bigger than Dhoni the cricketer.
Regards
A fan
PS: Boy, we so loved the timing of your recent decision — on in the last few days of the year — and the sudden way it came upon us. Ditch the whites and get the colours on, Dhoni. We’re ready with the whistles.
