Mind, Body and Cricket
Mind, Body and Cricket
"The mind is willing but the body is not" - Anonymous.
We know perfectly well why Paula Radcliffe stopped halfway round the 17th lap and consigned her Olympic ambitions to oblivion for another four years.
"My legs were too beaten up after the marathon," she said as Xing Huina of China won the 10,000 metres.
What attracts us to these highly charged competitive games?
It is the high competition. When the mind is willing but the body isn’t, and with our own
ambitions just a receding memory in the rear view mirror of life, we look elsewhere
for our thrills.
We experience a kind of euphoria, we become fans, forget for a time our mundane troubles
and lose ourselves in the glory of the moment.
At the highest level, we search out for share our passion and can provide ever greater challenges.
For ultimately, its not about winning so much as the sense of achievement gained during the attempt to excel.
Tom Hank’s says in "A League of their Own“:
"It’s supposed to be hard—that’s what makes it great"
When the very best cannot take the hard part of it all, they need to exit the stage.
Did some of our stars realize when the skill they excell at has become more than
hard for the body, though the mind is still in it?
Bhogle wonders about it in his latest article:
The mind is willing but the body is weak
By Harsha Bhogle
Sanath Jayasuriya should have gone out of test cricket at the Premadasa Stadium with thousands of noisy, but friendly, Sri Lankans singing "thank you for the cricket". He deserved it but he didn't get it and that is the difference between our own scripts and those that life writes for us sometimes. A dislocated finger, a corner of a dressing room, a beautiful but small little town in the hills of Sri Lanka... not quite the last exit for one of the more influential cricketers of our time.
Now Jayasuriya, he could make mince of the bowling and yet smile like an embarrassed teenager, has said he will finish with the more frenetic one-day game at the World Cup of 2007. That means he will go out in the midst of a lot of music but in a faraway land where he will be a name like any other; a bit like Brian Lara saying farewell in Kanpur. It cannot be so for a man must bid good-bye in front of his people and on his land. It has to be the Premadasa for he owned it.
He has got the order of his exit timed correctly though for his style is now more suited to the one-day game, to the classic cameo rather than the lead role; a few thrusts of the rapier, the sudden burst to the other end and, very often, a more surprising burst back for a second, a quiet little squat between deliveries and then a carve over point.
He will leave Sri Lankan cricket with a hole at the top. Over the last few years, they have had two talisman cricketers; Muralitharan spinning the ball with a smile and Jayasuriya slashing it away with a smile. Murali's forte was test cricket for a bowler just about gets a speaking role in one-day cricket. That was Jayasuriya territory and he was a giant; holding up the side and yet, in doing so, allowing a huge shadow to fall on it. Sri Lanka have never really emerged from that shadow and now they must. As Glenn McGrath made the other bowlers look better so did Jayasuriya with the batsmen. Now the Sangakkaras and the Jayawardenes must walk alone.
Jayasuriya cannot do much more for the body is giving way now and the spares cannot arrive. The mind will be willing but it cannot perform alone for sport requires a combo. Often, when the mind is strong it drives the body forward, like an officer might his troops. But once the body starts complaining, once the reserves start to run dry, the mind grows weary. The director knows the script but the actors cannot perform anymore. And once the mind starts questioning, the end for the athlete is nigh.
Jayasuriya has taken the right decision and that is something Sachin Tendulkar must ponder over as well. It is not a verdict he needs to arrive at just yet, maybe, but it is a possibility that must, if at least, enter the vast territories of his mind. Even if not the preferred one, it must enter the spectrum of options. Different parts are creaking now and like weary salesmen they want to rest in between. Invariably the body throws up other options, another muscle gets used a little more maybe, but they cannot take the workload and soon they complain too. Tendulkar's joints, his muscles, were like performers in a circus moving to the ringmaster's tune. Now they resemble partners in a coalition, they need to be kept satisfied. Maybe that is the challenge; drive the body and then rest it; and once rested, tease it and ask it "do you want more action?"
And so, really, the greater worry is not Tendulkar but Sehwag. Tendulkar has already produced his magnum opus and it stands there for us to admire but Sehwag's big moments still lie ahead. Maybe he can still be India's next captain but for that he must look at himself a little more carefully. Many years ago, on one of his corporate road-shows, Anil Ambani was asked by an overseas investor if he could trust him to run a company when he couldn't look after his own body. The younger Ambani shed weight like a tree might its leaves during autumn and emerged fitter and, in the eyes of the world, more responsible. So too must Sehwag for he looks a picture of neglect at the moment.
The mind is the champion but the body has its own story to tell
http://espnstar.com/studio/studio_coldetail_1672959.html
Mind, Body and Cricket
"The mind is willing but the body is not" - Anonymous.
We know perfectly well why Paula Radcliffe stopped halfway round the 17th lap and consigned her Olympic ambitions to oblivion for another four years.
"My legs were too beaten up after the marathon," she said as Xing Huina of China won the 10,000 metres.
What attracts us to these highly charged competitive games?
It is the high competition. When the mind is willing but the body isn’t, and with our own
ambitions just a receding memory in the rear view mirror of life, we look elsewhere
for our thrills.
We experience a kind of euphoria, we become fans, forget for a time our mundane troubles
and lose ourselves in the glory of the moment.
At the highest level, we search out for share our passion and can provide ever greater challenges.
For ultimately, its not about winning so much as the sense of achievement gained during the attempt to excel.
Tom Hank’s says in "A League of their Own“:
"It’s supposed to be hard—that’s what makes it great"
When the very best cannot take the hard part of it all, they need to exit the stage.
Did some of our stars realize when the skill they excell at has become more than
hard for the body, though the mind is still in it?
Bhogle wonders about it in his latest article:
The mind is willing but the body is weak
By Harsha Bhogle
Sanath Jayasuriya should have gone out of test cricket at the Premadasa Stadium with thousands of noisy, but friendly, Sri Lankans singing "thank you for the cricket". He deserved it but he didn't get it and that is the difference between our own scripts and those that life writes for us sometimes. A dislocated finger, a corner of a dressing room, a beautiful but small little town in the hills of Sri Lanka... not quite the last exit for one of the more influential cricketers of our time.
Now Jayasuriya, he could make mince of the bowling and yet smile like an embarrassed teenager, has said he will finish with the more frenetic one-day game at the World Cup of 2007. That means he will go out in the midst of a lot of music but in a faraway land where he will be a name like any other; a bit like Brian Lara saying farewell in Kanpur. It cannot be so for a man must bid good-bye in front of his people and on his land. It has to be the Premadasa for he owned it.
He has got the order of his exit timed correctly though for his style is now more suited to the one-day game, to the classic cameo rather than the lead role; a few thrusts of the rapier, the sudden burst to the other end and, very often, a more surprising burst back for a second, a quiet little squat between deliveries and then a carve over point.
He will leave Sri Lankan cricket with a hole at the top. Over the last few years, they have had two talisman cricketers; Muralitharan spinning the ball with a smile and Jayasuriya slashing it away with a smile. Murali's forte was test cricket for a bowler just about gets a speaking role in one-day cricket. That was Jayasuriya territory and he was a giant; holding up the side and yet, in doing so, allowing a huge shadow to fall on it. Sri Lanka have never really emerged from that shadow and now they must. As Glenn McGrath made the other bowlers look better so did Jayasuriya with the batsmen. Now the Sangakkaras and the Jayawardenes must walk alone.
Jayasuriya cannot do much more for the body is giving way now and the spares cannot arrive. The mind will be willing but it cannot perform alone for sport requires a combo. Often, when the mind is strong it drives the body forward, like an officer might his troops. But once the body starts complaining, once the reserves start to run dry, the mind grows weary. The director knows the script but the actors cannot perform anymore. And once the mind starts questioning, the end for the athlete is nigh.
Jayasuriya has taken the right decision and that is something Sachin Tendulkar must ponder over as well. It is not a verdict he needs to arrive at just yet, maybe, but it is a possibility that must, if at least, enter the vast territories of his mind. Even if not the preferred one, it must enter the spectrum of options. Different parts are creaking now and like weary salesmen they want to rest in between. Invariably the body throws up other options, another muscle gets used a little more maybe, but they cannot take the workload and soon they complain too. Tendulkar's joints, his muscles, were like performers in a circus moving to the ringmaster's tune. Now they resemble partners in a coalition, they need to be kept satisfied. Maybe that is the challenge; drive the body and then rest it; and once rested, tease it and ask it "do you want more action?"
And so, really, the greater worry is not Tendulkar but Sehwag. Tendulkar has already produced his magnum opus and it stands there for us to admire but Sehwag's big moments still lie ahead. Maybe he can still be India's next captain but for that he must look at himself a little more carefully. Many years ago, on one of his corporate road-shows, Anil Ambani was asked by an overseas investor if he could trust him to run a company when he couldn't look after his own body. The younger Ambani shed weight like a tree might its leaves during autumn and emerged fitter and, in the eyes of the world, more responsible. So too must Sehwag for he looks a picture of neglect at the moment.
The mind is the champion but the body has its own story to tell
http://espnstar.com/studio/studio_coldetail_1672959.html