RECIPIE FOR DESMOND HAYNES TRI-STATE CRICKET CUP By Shiuli Sharma

After months of exhaustive planning, dawned August 30, the first day of the first game of the first Desmond Haynes Tri-state Cricket Cup. As luck would have it we overslept.

INGREDIENTS

„X   5 weekend warriors
„X   1 legendary celebrity
„X   5 consecutive weekends
„X   4 rather short hours of sleep
„X   2 overstuffed vehicles
„X   3 frenzied months of planning
„X   3 generous sponsors
„X   1 official website

SEASONINGS

„X   A dash of confidence
„X   Table spoonfuls of great weather
„X   A pinch of luck

My grandmother always said, no matter what the ingredients, it is the skill and the artistry of the cook that makes a dish delicious or disastrous.

Coming from India, cricket had been pretty much a staple, almost inherent to our daily existence, Living without it here, waiting for that occasional ¡¥pay-per-view' match or that Saturday club game just left a void, a sense of longing, and sometimes even a feeling of emptiness for things familiar. Not that I have anything against any American sport, I really enjoy basketball, but the bottom line was I missed cricket. And married to a cricket lover, who firmly believes that he is a ¡¥lean mean wicket-taking machine', that feeling just compounded. Guess the time was right, so when Bernard, for the uninitiated the founder of MLC suggested a ¡¥tri-state event', it was like water for our parched minds. We dived into it hearts first.

Like all novice cooks, there were a few hiccups, some spilt milk, a little too much of spice and a few fires, but our desire to lay out a spread was unwavering. Sometimes our confidence did take a beating, but we realized that if there's anything cheap in this world, it is negativity! But it didn't have the punch or the sharpness to make a dent on our spirit.

After months of exhaustive planning, dawned August 30, the first day of the first game of the first Desmond Haynes Tri-state Cricket Cup. As luck would have it we overslept.

The night before we were sitting in a diner with Desmond sampling a bit of Americana, when it hit us, perhaps not at the same time, ¡¥that here was a living legend. A great sportsman and not one person other than us in the diner knew who he was!' It was unthinkable for those of us who love cricket. But that didn't seem to bother Desmond one bit. He was perhaps comfortable in his anonymity than in the celebrity status he enjoys elsewhere. The man's ability to have fun was very contagious.

As we crossed the Verrazano Narrows onto the Brooklyn roads, our station wagon packed with coolers that Saturday morning, we could feel the adrenalin pumping. The kind of rush you get just before a first date. The God of Traffic was on our side, and we made it to Marine Park in good time.

To be quite honest, it really wasn't the best place to kick off the series. But given all the hurdles we had encountered in getting a field, it was as good as the Lords for us that day. We pitched the tents, marked the boundary, set the field, placed the chairs, filled the coolers with cold water and Gatorade, when the New Jersey team started to trickle in twos and threes. Seeing the boys walking in with their kit bags, made us realize that the Tri-state Cup was for real. As New Jersey warmed up, we waited for New York.

And we waited and waited and waited...

The minutes melted into hours and the elation slowly turned to despair. With one overly eager team, all geared up to play and the other doing a "David Copperfield act", we were faced with a situation that had never crossed our minds ever. We couldn't understand the logic behind the non-appearance, but one thing that became clear was the politics of sabotage.

Call us hard-nosed or just foolish, there was no way we would let this googly clean bowl us. When faced with adversity, the human mind becomes ingenious. New York or no New York, the show would go on. That day New Jersey went onto play an exciting Double Wicket match and spend some quality time with Desmond, while New York pointlessly forfeited the game.

Is it a lack of vision or is it the green-eyed monster that makes people stoop to such lows that they lose sight of the big picture. Cricket is what we crave for. Cricket is what we want to do. Not step on toes and bash egos or tom- tom our name from treetops.

At the end of the day, as we picked up the pieces of Day One under pouring rain, all of us were faced with a ¡¥truth or dare' situation. Truth, should we throw in the towel? Dare, should we stand up and fight? We chose to take the show to the road.

Given that state of mind, we embraced Day Two with more zeal. It was the first junior's game. The ground at Old Bridge, New Jersey was a quiet haven amidst towering trees. But we soon discovered that too was a short-lived fantasy. For on one side was a motor cross racing track! The noise level was high, but it couldn't silence our enthusiasm to get the show going. Once again the tents were pitched, the banners were up, the chairs were set, the coolers were filled. And by the time the game started, it was a perfect setting for a cricket match.

The bumps of the previous day were all forgotten, as New York's opening pair faced the first ball from New Jersey. With Kirton's outstanding knock of 41 and Akeem Dodson's invaluable 40, New York's 145 for 9 proved to be a formidable score for New Jersey to chase. Although New York won the game, there were no losers at Old Bridge on that Sunday.

Whether it was on the field or off the field, without having to sound presumptuous, both the teams enjoyed their day of cricket. But the highpoint was reserved for the evening, the teams' night out with Desmond. Being a cricket fan I can say this, it was one of those moments that will be permanently etched in the book of memories.

After a rather eventful start, the next four weekends seemed like cakewalk. But each had their defining moments.

Playing at the foot of the towering Whitestone Bridge, a confident Connecticut senior side edged New York out off the Tri-state Cup playing field, in the second week. But the roles reversed and in the third it was a swashbuckling New Jersey side that thumped its way to victory, beating a rather flustered Connecticut. Ketan Patel's 98 was the crowning glory of that weekend's game.

As each weekend progressed, we discovered all five of us- Bernard, Rob, Jocelyn, Rajan and I that whether it was man made or divine, we would overcome any challenge that was hurled at us. As long as we believed in what we were doing, even if it meant taking down a tent wearing a garbage bag in pounding rain! Or driving hundred and forty miles back and forth, twice in the same day. We were even willing to sit in a city park on the wrong side the town way after dark. The show just had to go on.

One by one all the games were played. Unfortunately Connecticut couldn't send a junior team, so New Jersey faced off New York for the finals of the under 15, the weekend after Isabel wrecked her way through the east coast. But maybe she was a cricket fan; she spared us of her wrath!

That September Sunday was a glorious day for cricket. Turquoise skies, candyfloss clouds and a ground the color of Jade, Pension Road came alive as New York took to field in the first Desmond Haynes Tri-state Cricket Cup's under 15 finals. Having learnt from their earlier loss, the New Jersey boys hit the pitch with a new sense of purpose after having won the toss.

An over confident New York team had underestimated New Jersey's desire to conquer. Skipper Anvit Patel's scintillating 40 and middle order batsman Dhiren Patel's very responsible 32, along with a dizzying 53 extras helped New Jersey to pile up an awesome 165 runs in 30 overs.
After the break, New York started tentatively against the opening attack of Brijesh Patel and Mohammad Hassan, easily the most penetrative of all bowlers on view in this tournament. Both worked up a lively pace but were guilty of bowling an erratic line. But New York batsmen they were missed opportunities. Spinners Anuj Pandaya and Dhruv Mehra kept things tight and cleaned up the New York batting grabbing 3 and 4 wickets respectively and the New York innings folded up rather tamely for a paltry 56 runs in just 23 overs! Moral of the story, the tortoise does win the race, even in real life. Clearly victory belonged to the committed one that Sunday of September.

It's amazing how time flies. After four consecutive weekends of sleepless nights and action packed days, weeks of tying in loose ends, the big day finally arrived. We probably had good karma on our side ¡¥cause the weather god never let us down. And that Saturday was no different.

Kenney Park in Hartford, Connecticut is like an emerald isle. An idyllic clearing in a luscious forest. Though when New Jersey elected to bat, it was overcast, but as the day progressed the ground was bathed in warm, comforting sunshine. But New Jersey's start wasn't half as comforting; they lost their first wicket in the third over at just 5 runs. Glen Hall and Raj Sundaram' s efforts eased New Jersey out of the doldrums. But it was Ketan Patel and Jignesh Desai who stabilized the team and New Jersey finished with an achievable score of 147 in 40 overs.

Connecticut's hopes to win the trophy were nipped in the bud, when the Jersey spinners struck early and at end of the third over, they were 3 for 6 runs. But hope soon returned with Abbasi's 29, Kevin Baugh's 20 and Smith's 23. Despite the valiant efforts of the middle order, Connecticut was bowled out with 4 overs remaining, 21 runs short of victory.

For the very animated home crowd it was disappointing moment, but the gleaming trophies and a very inspiring speech by Desmond Haynes made all wrongs right. As New Jersey lifted the first ever Desmond Haynes Tri-state Cricket trophy, many have since commented that cricket in America entered a new era. I would like to believe in that, ¡¥but there are miles to go¡K' as the poet once said.

Yes, the Desmond Haynes Tri-state Cup had all the makings of a potboiler. A dash of mellow drama, ladles of action, a pinch of romance though unrequited, it was wholesome entertainment at the end of the day for all concerned.