Love Letter to Shane Warne

11^th January ’22 — King isn’t Dead

I’m feeling mildly irate, but if you know me, you’ll know that I’m almost always mildly irate.

At 20.47 hours, I’m finally done with office work. The whole day I’ve either stared at the laptop like a 15-year-old stares at his chemistry teacher’s cleavage or been stuck on impotency-accelerating work calls after emailing my resignation at noon.

Since 9.53pm last night, I’ve had a few glasses of water. My 24-hour nonreligious fast is almost done. I’m about to meet a human — this human is late. I step out of the work-from-café — put on my headphones & punch into YouTube to see what’s new on TalkSport.

Fun Fact: These fuckers call themselves TalkSport but they never talk about anything, but Football. 

So, I’m stunned to see a brisk —3.18 minutes— podcast with the King.

Warne reveals that he grew up loving & wanting to play professional Aussie Rules Football, not Cricket. And he was damn good at it too. But, at age 19, he received a crisp break-up letter from his footy club — St. Kilda that read: Your services are no longer required.

“That was like a dagger — being told you’re not good enough to play the sport you love,” Warne recalled.

He then decided to become a professional Tennis player — he was already ranked no.2 in Melbourne.

18 months later, Warne was playing Test Cricket for Australia. Ha!

After getting kicked out of a local sport that no one barring Australians has even heard of, Warne tried to become the next Andre Agassi, but ended up becoming Michael Jordan of Cricket.

Warne — You fucking Beauty!

5^th January ’92 — Who the Fuck is Shane Warne

Australia vs. India — Day 4 — 3^rd Test [Sydney]

I’m listening on AM radio — I hear a loud roar from the Aussie crowd & the commentator says 

“Ravi Shastri is finally out for 206. Caught Dean Jones — bowled Shane Warne.”

It’s Warne’s debut & Shastri is his 1^st wicket. It was his only wicket in that Test. In the 4^th Test, Warne went wicketless in both the innings. Stunningly, he was not dropped from Australia’s next Test tour — Sri Lanka. Captain Allan Border’s faith didn’t pay off as Warne went wicketless in the first innings — 0/107. Till the dead-end of the 2^nd innings, Warne was wicketless & his bowling average had swollen to an astronomical 346 per wicket. Warne then polished off the tail — taking the last three Sri Lankan wickets without conceding a run — propelling Aussies to a stunning comeback win by 16 runs.

 

In the post-match interview, Lanka captain Arjuna Ranatunga coldly commented, 

“A bowler with Test average of more than 300 came and snatched the victory from our hands.

Harsh, but true.

Warne again went wicketless in the next Test. He was dropped for the next Test, but recalled in the Boxing Day Test against West Indies — hoping he’ll shine in his hometown Melbourne. Well, in the first innings, Warne took just one wicket — that too of a no.11 batsman, Curtly Ambrose. Warne’s time was running out. In the 2^nd innings, West Indies needed a tough 359 run to win. But they had an amazing start. At one stage, they were 143/1. Then Warne clean-bowled Windies captain Richie Richardson with a flipper. He went on to take 7/52 — & Australia won by 139 runs.

—King is Born—

4^th March ’22 — King is Dead

At night, I reach home & walk into my room — open the laptop & type YouTube.

SkySports News thumbnail reads — Shane Warne has died at the age of 52.

I don’t feel any pain — I feel confused like I would if a shark suddenly ate both my legs while I was skinny-dipping in the ocean with my wife’s sister.

I go out for a walk. At one point, the confusion checks out — reality checks in. 

Silent tears escape my eyes, slide down my cheeks & dive down to get buried in Earth.

That night I dreamed of Warne & all the ridiculously gorgeous memories he has given me & billions over the last 30 years.

I wasn’t lucky to ever meet or speak with Warne. I saw him bowling on the TV a million times. I was lucky to be at the MCG a few times & saw him make the greatest batsmen contemplate early retirement & become organic farmers instead.

———

Hey, Shane

Whenever you bowled, I watched.
Whenever you spoke, I listened.

And now you’re dead, I feel a little dead too.

Isn’t it a tad eerie that you had tweeted your condolences for another legend’s passing — Rod Marsh — just 12 hours before you scooted off the Earth.

Isn’t it absolutely poetic that you died while watching what you loved — a Test match between Pakistan & Australia — first test in Pakistan in a decade. And your last meal was Vegemite on toast. Doesn’t get more Aussie than that.

As much as a genius you were on the field, you were just as deeply flawed off it. I often joked, the only way to distract you during a match is if some busty blonde flashes her big tits in the stands. 

Your flaws made you real.

Warne — Wherever the fuck you’re, mate, I’m dead sure you’re dazzling everyone with your mesmerizing stories & smashing their stumps with your balls of the century.

Thank you for everything — it’s been a bloody privilege.
P.S. Your bowling was giving me orgasms long before my hand or a girl did. 

———

Today, Shane is dead. And I’m writing about him. 

Tomorrow, I’ll be dead.

One day, you, whoever you’re reading this, will be dead. 

Doesn’t it make you kick the comfort-blanket & do something — anything that will make the world miss you when you’re gone.
Because no matter who the fuck you’re, you will be gone within a blink.
Today the universe is your canvas — Tomorrow it will be someone else’s

———

When Warne retired in 2007, I was supersad, but I was also supersure that, in time, there will be another Shane Warne.

Now I know better.

—There will never be another Shane Warne—