9 March. Arun Jaitley Stadium, Delhi.
Chasing a target of 191 runs against Gujarat Giants, Mumbai Indians could merely accumulate 100 runs in 14 overs. The required run rate had climbed to a daunting 15.16 runs per over.
No sooner than the strategic time-out was announced that we – a group of MI fans – exchanged gazes of anxiety. We had watched enough cricket to know that this chase was an uphill task, bordering on the impossible – 91 runs from 36 deliveries.
What we did not know, however, was that we would be treated to a spectacular knock, which will remain etched in our hearts and minds forever. Captain Harmanpreet Kaur, who had scored only 20 runs in her first 21 balls, accumulated 75 runs in the next 27, winning the match for Mumbai with a delivery to spare.
Ecstasy got the better of us, as we knew we experienced history in the making. For many, Kaur’s 171 against Australia in the 2017 World Cup semi-final had announced the arrival of women’s cricket for India, and now, this 48-ball 95 had effectuated the nationwide impact of WPL.
Having Cricket in DNA
If you ask me why I love cricket, I am afraid, I do not have a logical explanation. Like many Indians, I grew up in a cricket-crazed family, wherein the household’s emotions would depend on how the Indian cricket team performed on a given day. The Indian ‘men’s’ cricket team, of course.
The dholwaalas were in luck when the team won a crucial match, for they were summoned to be the makeshift masters of ceremony, as we – family, friends, cousins, and neighbours – danced into the night. To date, whenever Virat Kohli hits a century, my grandfather calls each of us grandchildren to congratulate us, as if it was a personal milestone.
Hence, I qualify to use the proverbial – at times, clichéd – ‘cricket runs in my DNA’ phrase.
A Delhiite Supporting Mumbai
Now that my love for the game has been established, it will seem justifiable to know that my excitement knew no bounds when the WPL was announced. My partner, fortunately, supported me in my unceasing commentary.
I had been following women’s cricket for a while now, and the leap of investment by the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) into women’s franchise cricket meant we would finally get to watch some of the most talented female cricketers playing with, and against, one other. Being a Sachin Tendulkar fan, I already had a soft spot for MI, which was accentuated when the franchise signed two of my favourites – Harmanpreet Kaur and Nat Sciver-Brunt. Allegiance was pledged, much to the dismay of my Delhi-based family.
Religiously glueing myself to the TV screen every evening at 7:30pm, I felt every ball, every run, and every wicket. I even went to Mumbai to support my team in the playoffs. While the big names had brought me in as supporters, the performance and grit of young players like Saika Ishaque, Yastika Bhatia and Amanjot Kaur won my heart.
Watching the final live in Mumbai felt surreal. I will never forget the electric atmosphere at the CCI Brabourne Stadium on that day. Women’s cricket was no longer an afterthought, it had well and truly arrived – to entertain, inspire and create impact.
The Many Gifts of WPL 2024
Fast forward to 2024, the second season of WPL has been a thrilling roller-coaster of nail-biting last-over dramas, starting from the first match itself. Mumbai needed 5 runs to win in the last ball against Delhi Capitals, when debutant Sajana Sajeevan confidently smashed a six, with flair.
The very next day produced another thriller between Royal Challengers Bangalore and UP Warriors, where uncapped Indian spinner Asha Sobhana picked up a five-wicket haul. In an incredible stroke of coincidence, one of the season’s more enthralling matches was played on International Women’s Day, where UP defeated Delhi by a run.
How WPL Is Uniting Generations
Among the numerous memorable experiences for me this season will be the chance interaction with an eight-year-old, whom I spotted cheering his heart out for Mumbai Indians and Harmanpreet Kaur.
I reminisced contrasting moment from 20 years ago, when I first joined a cricket camp as an effervescent, enthusiastic 13-year-old, with the courage to learn pace bowling, only to be told on my face: “Ladkiyan cricket nahi khelti.” (girls dont play cricket).
Then, women’s cricket had no visibility. Now, the nation is flocking to watch 22 girls play the sport. It gives me relief to know that the little boy, whom I enthusiastically took a selfie with, will not question his female counterparts when they turn up at his coaching centre.
The morning after Harmanpreet’s memorable knock, my grandfather congratulated me. He then went on to discuss all the details of the match. At 82, he is as enthusiastic about watching each WPL game as he is with the IPL. The praise and criticism for players at the end of every match is as passionate and honest. Love for cricket remains the thread that binds us.
My grandfather, at 82, and the kid, at 8, are witnessing a new dawn. Hand-in-hand. Heart-to-heart.
(The author is an all-rounder in her family-owned business when she's not being a cricket nerd. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed are the author's own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)
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