Best super bowl today Shayari, Status, Quotes, Stories & Poem.
How Cricket can be even cooler sports than what it is now? What are the some of innovative ideas?
Look one can have plenty of cool ideas about Cricket, will ICC listen? Will every board members agree to that? The major power player is BCCI, now in country like ours where we don't like change, even ideas like T10Is for only Olympic games also get sidetracked. People of India are also not really comfortable with any change. One needs to push it to them, remember first T20I WC in SA, well before that tournament, BCCI wasn't ready to play by saying T20I was a joke, Indian people also kind of went with that as they follow most often our former cricketer say, fortunately BCCI voted out in the meeting, and rest is history. Now look at Indian public's craze with T20Is. Because Indian people most often don't know what they want. Ask most Indian about T10Is only for Olympic as even 3 hr of T20Is are long for Olympic, they will say they hate the ideas. They said same thing about T20Is as well. Actually the problems with Cricket are tradition and nostalgia and it's clash with this modern world. At certain points of time ICC and BCCI need to choose between keeping the old fans satisfied or creating completely new age fan base who weren't interested in cricket before by creating new version of Cricket which more interesting and eye catching than before for even those who doesn't have any ideas about Cricket before.
I mean look at old test cricket loving crowds in Australia and England. What will happen after 10 years from now, when most of them will be dead?
No one knows answer to this question.
First of all, if you look at world sports, glamour sells and it sells well in sports.
I mean anyone can see woman's tennis obvious popularity now, and it's sheer level of competitiveness, but is it always like this?
A big no
Glamour started to bring attention and money in the sports and then gradually women's tennis competitiveness hit the roof.
Some things similar could be done for women's Cricket. Conservative ideas won't help anyone here.
There should be a group in ICC whose prime job is to research on Cricket and build some new ideas to make it more interesting and innovative and exciting for the new crowds, they should research on Cricket to bring new kind of thinking to change the game forever, they should research why particular group of people in particular part of the world like particular game, what is the thinking behind that kind of mentality, how they could be interested in cricket, what general Cricket fans are thinking about the game, what they want, how they want game to change, maybe they should learn from other sports- what is working for other sports, bring that into Cricket etc etc etc etc etc etc
For test cricket:
Cricket specially test cricket is based on certain factors like patience etc where percentage of that happening from people are very low. Let's add to that 5 day long test cricket in today's day and age . And you get ignorance and ridiculing from people and even from those test playing nations. Test cricket lover always say that test cricket is like those traditional setar music whereas T20Is are more like hip hop.
But is it really???
Or is it more complex than that?
See people are very participatory nature in their core even though the whole concept of test cricket will drive away most people these days and that should be expected not to be surprised about but people end of days like to see their team is playing and participating and competing and competing hard even if the level of cricket is not exactly up to mark to the purist test cricket lovers.
What exactly my point here?
It's very simple.
Former cricketer always talk about balance between bat and ball , yet they never do anything about it pushing convention wisdom AKA with innovative thought process.
What is exactly going on now in limited over's cricket?
There's some invisible structure where 40% of matches are played on extremely flat surface and rest of 60% matches played on three types pitches - slow(20%), turning(20%), seaming(20%).
But in test cricket it is extremely opposite such as bowling favoured pitch since the perception is that limited over's cricket is only played on flat surface therefore test cricket should be played on bowling favoured pitch otherwise bowlers will disappear.
But it just different tone from the past era when test cricket was played on flat surface otherwise it is very same. It just two sides of a same coin.
While it is very hard to make test cricket viewers friendly in today's day and age. But one can try and do by pushing the conventional wisdom.
How is that possible?
Well first of all stop trying to pretend that test cricket is a simple game.
It is not. It is the most complex game in the world.
So rather than trying to be something that test cricket is not , I say test cricket should hold on to it's best attributes that it is a complex game therefore innovate rules from that point of view to make this game more multi dimensional and contest worthy in every single matches.
It should not matter which team is playing against which team.
Since pitch is such a big deal in test cricket , let's make rules based on according to every kind of pitch that a cricket game can offer.
This should be the job for match referee since most of the time they are not super busy in Cricket game. They should handle this complex responsibility of cricket rules with accordance to cricket pitch to bring out it's multi dimensional nature.
Situation no 1>
If the pitch is absolutely flat and nothing is happening allow the bowlers to push the envelope of conventional wisdom of cricket rules. Allow ball tampering to an certain extent to reverse swing the ball both ways and allow Spinners to bowl with illegal action to bring different varieties like dusra etc to cause problems for the batsman in a bowlers graveyard. There are lots of theory and calculation out there today which wasn't earlier to predict the pitch better than ever before so this should not be that hard for match referees.
Situation no 2>
If pitch is too slow and nothing is happening. Allow the bowlers to do exactly like in situation 1 but also make sure the boundary limit is ridiculously small(extremely small) to give a ‘kick start' advantage to test batsman to play more attacking cricket since most of them are devoid of great stroke making ability to suit the test cricket.
Situation no 3>
If pitch is seaming like in England or South Africa or in New Zealand, allow the boundary limit just like in situation 2 to favour the batsman to play more attacking cricket.
Situation no 4>
If pitch is turning like in Indian subcontinent, allow the boundary limit just like in situation 2&3 to favour the batsman to play more attacking cricket.
This will almost make sure that the percentage of draw become almost non existent.
This is a creative idea which you have the option to disagree with but remember something is always better than nothing and this will also make sure small teams to come into the game big way in test cricket and everyone, I mean everyone will have their opportunity to eat the pie and that of course include big teams.
But is it going to make test cricket very popular?
I don't think so.
Is it going to make better test cricket for everyone , I mean not just the big teams but even for the small teams- I believe so.
What do you think?
For ODIs :
What exactly do we want from ODIs, we want to see two teams are contesting hard inspite of their unequal power of strength as it should not matter which team is playing against which team. I have a solution for this, but a warning it will sound complicated so read carefully, truth is if you want to make Cricket matches one sided contest free then we don't have much options but the complicated ways as Cricket is designed to be one sided.
In ODIs a bowler's limitation is 10 overs, but there are circumstances when bowler is bowling superbly but in rest of the bowling line up, few are okay and few are having a off day. To counter this situation, one option is that best bowler from that day can bowl upto 20 overs or in another option two of the best from the rest can bowl 15 overs each and rest can bowl either remaining 30 overs or 20 overs with 10 overs limit respectively or as another option go back to traditional five bowlers 10 over max rule. The bowling captain needs to decide and let umpire know after the chosen bowler or bowlers finished their first 6 overs. When one team goes to bat they should have the option of having two batsman from the reserve bench replacing any two bowlers from playing XI, when they go to bowl everything will be the way it was before. In a similar bowling team will also have the option to choose two bowlers from reserve bench replacing two batsman and when the bowling team will go to bat things will be the way they were before. Four bouncers in a over should be another nice option. When a team is all out they should have the option of playing their XI again but with each batsman coming to bat, there will be 60 runs penalty cut off from the total and this will be considered 2nd innings of that particular batsman in that match (Only for the batting team as this will farther complicate it for the bowling stats, so bowlers don't need any second innings)[Remember this second innings options can be used any situation not just when team is all out, for example suppose Virat Kohli has got out early with this rule he can bat again anytime but with 60 runs extra to the total as it has been cut off from the total as penalty for using the second innings options, yeah now it sounds very interesting], stats and average will be working according to that. This new rule will make sure both team & comparatively weaker team stay in the match and it will be multiplying their strength there by reducing the percentage of one sided contest. Because ODIs go on for long time therefore one sided contest is killing it. I believe this is the best cure at the moment.
See the idea is very simple, let's have one team whose strength is 100 and another team whose strength is 10 and you will know that who is going to win even before the match and with above mentioned ideas both team's strength will be multiplied at least hundred times which means even though the stronger team will win most occasions but game will be very close contested therefore one dimensional nature free. This is what people are looking for from ODIs and Cricket.
So How do you like this idea which you have the option to disagree with but remember something is better than nothing and it just a creative thought end of the days. You can add if you have something.
A Poem by Robin Sharma
#1 bestselling author of The Leader Who Had No Title
Today, I declare I am strong and brave, not timid nor weak.
Today, I declare that my past will no longer limit my future and just because I couldn’t achieve something yesterday doesn’t mean I won’t do it this day.
Today, I declare that I’ll honor my talents, express my gifts and reveal my creativity to everyone around me.
Today, I declare I’ll be loyal to my values, respectful of my mission and fiercely focused on my dreams.
Today, I declare that I am a maker versus a consumer, a giver versus a taker and a visionary versus a victim.
Today, I declare that I will always be part of the solution and never part of the problem.
Today, I declare that when I fall, I will certainly rise and when I’m in doubt, I will persist.
Today, I declare that I will cherish my health, feed my mind and nourish my soul.
Today, I declare that I am surrounding myself with people who are smarter, faster, stronger and better than me so I am uplifted by their models and inspired by their examples.
Today, I declare that I set the standard in my work, am becoming the icon of my industry and a legend at my craft.
Today, I declare that I adore my family, am grateful for my friends and am an encourager to all those who are blessed to cross my path.
Today, I declare that this New Year is MY year. My time to grow, excel, laugh, love, win, believe, persevere and serve, knowing that I am truly the leader of my fate, the owner of my results and the hero of my destiny.
As I Began to Love Myself – Self Love Poem by Charlie Chaplin
As I began to love myself I found that anguish and emotional suffering are only warning signs that I was living against my own truth.
Today, I know, this is “AUTHENTICITY”.
As I began to love myself I understood how much it can offend somebodyAs I try to force my desires on this person, even though I knew the timewas not right and the person was not ready for it, and even though thisperson was me. Today I call it “RESPECT”.As I began to love myself I stopped craving for a different life,and I could see that everything that surrounded me was inviting me to grow.Today I call it “MATURITY”.As I began to love myself I understood that at any circumstance,I am in the right place at the right time, and everything happensat the exactly right moment. So I could be calm.Today I call it “SELF-CONFIDENCE”.As I began to love myself I quit steeling my own time,and I stopped designing huge projects for the future.Today, I only do what brings me joy and happiness, things I love to doand that make my heart cheer, and I do them in my own way and inmy own rhythm. Today I call it “SIMPLICITY”.As I began to love myself I freed myself of anything that is no good formy health – food, people, things, situations, and everything that drewme down and away from myself. At first I called this attitudea healthy egoism. Today I know it is “LOVE OF ONESELF”.As I began to love myself I quit trying to always be right, and ever sinceI was wrong less of the time. Today I discovered that is “MODESTY”.As I began to love myself I refused to go on living in the past and worryabout the future. Now, I only live for the moment, where EVERYTHINGis happening. Today I live each day, day by day, and I call it “FULFILLMENT”.As I began to love myself I recognized that my mind can disturb meand it can make me sick. But As I connected it to my heart, mymind became a valuable ally. Today I call thisconnection “WISDOM OF THE HEART”.We no longer need to fear arguments, confrontations or any kind of problemswith ourselves or others. Even stars collide, and out of their crashingnew worlds are born.Today I know THAT IS “LIFE”! ----
Visiting her grave was part of my routine. If I returned I would know exactly which wooden box to walk too, in which flower patch her body rests and exactly how far beneath the ground her degrading body sits in harmony with the earth. She was ready to die. She was ready to die six months before I forced her body awake every morning. Before I coerced her to eat her wet soggy food. Before I held her so close to my body and dripped my tears of optimism all over her back. She was ready to die long before I decided she should live.
On September 6, 2010 Mother Nature decided that Idaho was ready for winter. The clouds swirled into a monotonous tundra over my home. The hawks mocked us for not being prepared for winter. It’s easier for them – they fill their stomachs and fly south. It was their time to eat. They flew in circles over my chicken shed meditating on their prey. As I saw the commotion in the sky and the craving of flesh in their eyes I knew it was time to corral my chickens.
My chickens roamed around the ten-acre land as they pleased. Some would make their way into my home on occasions and eat the food off the counters and others would go near the barn and roll their bodies into the hay hiding themselves from the rest of the world. The ones with more exploring initiative would lay on their sides in the middle of the fields like they were born in the tropics – stomach turned toward the heat finding every way to become one with the sun. They didn’t succeed but when I would pick those ones off the ground their heat would soak into my body and I would understand their logic. After their day of roaming the world they would find their way back to the coop. The coop was painted with my neighbors and my love. The names of the chickens were written on the walls and amateur drawings covered all the nooks and crannies. It was comforting to me. I wonder if they thought it was too.
As the hawks picked their prey I was frantic. My mom and I frolicked the land, me in search for all my babies and her supporting hers. I was yelling trying to scare away the hawks but they knew I couldn’t fly. I could never reach them. The sound of my petrified voice didn’t pierce the hawks as much as it pierced myself. There was one chicken missing. Where was the last one? I saw her body frantically trapped on the other side of the fence. I guided her around the fence to the shed and I pushed the last chicken into the shed and slammed the door shut. As the door slammed I heard the cries of a bird. Did I miss one? Did a hawk steal it before I did? But the distant noise wasn’t so distant at all. As I turned my head toward the door the chicken I had just saved from the hawk I had shut in the door. She lay – just like she used to lay beneath the sun but this time it was not out of pleasure. I opened the door and my chicken rest, her neck strutting in multiple directions and her eyes looking at me in desperation.
I convinced my mom to let me buy chickens when I was eight. She said “if you pay for them and take care of them – you can get them.” So, I saved my money, did my research, and found it only reasonable to make a business to pay for my chickens. I would sell eggs and thus my chickens would be paid for. And this is what I did. But the relationship between my chickens and I over the years became less of a business venture and more of a companionship. When I heard the arguing in the house I found solace in the chickens outside. I talked to them like I was a chicken myself. I would tell them my secrets and my fears. They would sit in my lap and tilt their head whenever I said something noteworthy. After I paused they would come in with some of their thoughts. It’s too bad I didn’t understand their language.
My chicken laid in my arms. My mom took it upon herself to make a bed in the warmth of our home. I brought the barely breathing chicken to the bed that was so delicately made and placed her in it. My tears of optimism didn’t cover the chicken today – they covered her body creating a coat of pain and suffering. I’m sure this coat wasn’t ever taken off my chicken – but I pretended it didn’t exist. I’m good at pretending.
In the preceding days, every morning, pre-lunch, lunch, pre-dinner, dinner, pre-dessert, and post dessert I would feed my chicken food that I soaked in water so it was soft enough to go down her broken neck. I wasn’t an anatomy expert but somehow I figured that with a neck that looks like a 90-degree angle it might be easier to eat if the food is soft. My chicken laid there day after day – gaining energy by night. I convinced myself or perhaps I dreamed it – that she was getting better. I imagined her standing up. I craved her leading a happy life – the life that she deserved.
My mom used to say that if she got in an accident and was unable to move or do anything with her life that she would want to die. She wouldn’t want her children spending their lives caring for a cause that we cared so deeply for but that she left long ago. Our family likes knowing one another at our best and at our worst. But when our worst makes others suffer it becomes a problem that affects all those around us. When I ponder the chicken months today – I always wonder if my chicken was like my mother. Did she want me to let her die? Did she want to close her eyes and sleep to her death? Had I stripped her of her one wish just like I would strip my mother?
As her health improved and she began to seem more alert to the world we started having daily sessions. In the morning’s we stretched. I would pick her immobile body up and slowly move her legs away from her body. I would do the same for her feet. I trusted I was saving a child from its misery. I know now that death isn’t something to fear. I feared for my chicken – I’m sure she didn’t fear it. I would put her body to the ground like she was walking – reminding her of a past long forgotten. A past that today she only sees in her heaven. I didn’t put any of her weight on the ground – it was more of a presentation. When she gobbled, I thought she was telling me things. I would listen and try to pick up on her words. But somehow her gobbles never translated to English.
When people visited our home, they wondered why my mother let me keep a dying chicken in our bathroom. You couldn’t use that bathroom because it smelled of manure and death – so people were ushered to the one in my mother’s room. My mom and I thought it was normal. She was a part of the family. I considered her a part of me just like a person would consider their sibling a part of them. My mother felt the same way. Often when I slept in too late my mom would do my job for me. She would help her walk and feed her her wet food. I remember her words ringing in my head “if you take care of them, you can get them.” I knew she believed this but my mother would also check in on my chicken day and night when I couldn’t care for her myself. She is a mother after all. I learned my ways from her.
A month later my chicken could stand up. I never thought her progress would be so vast. Balancing was a difficult task for her. Her vision was off – or at least something was because when she stood up to eat her food – she would go to peck the liquid matter but she would miss and peck the ground instead. It would take her a few tries to get her beak into the bowl. I didn’t know how to teach her without moving her head in the right direction. Sometimes I would place my hands around the bowl covering the ground. My chicken knew when she pecked me – she never wanted to peck me so she would try to find the bowl. When the days were still warm I would bring her under the hot sun to some of her favorite places – to the sawdust where she used to roll or to the blanket of grass where she would heat her body. She loved the days when it was warm. She would place herself near a tree and sprawl on the ground.
Sometimes my mother would come play the guitar outside. Her lyrics penetrated the atmosphere. She wasn’t playing for anyone – or at least anyone I knew of. But I know my chicken would sit under the tree a few feet away from her and she would turn her head, in any way she knew how, to look at my mother. She would tilt her head, a sober sign of listening and she would keep it that way until my mother’s words receded. Then she would go back to sticking her beak into the ground in search of insects but whenever my mom started up again she would always repeat her actions. I think her voice was a gift into a world of pleasure that was absent from her life. My mother’s voice was a gift to more than one.
As time went on my chicken became stronger. She could walk. Her head and neck leaned to one side of her body making her unbalanced. When she could walk, she would only go in a circle. Her circles eventually got bigger and some days she would make it all the way across the yard by way of circles. When I think about spending life only able to move in circles it makes me shiver.
We could never reintroduce her to the other chickens because they would peck her to death. Chickens are cruel birds – or cruel to the human eye. If one has a disability they will peck it until it dies. I couldn’t let this happen – but maybe that’s the way of the chicken world – and maybe that’s what is best.
My chicken would go to the fence and stand at it looking at all the other ones on the other side of the fence. She looked in desperation as if she was so alone – as if she wanted to be pecked to death – as if she was ready to take death. I couldn’t bear to see her own kind kill her and I couldn’t leave her knowing exactly what was going to happen when I left.
By May 8, 2010 my chicken acted as if she had never got her neck crushed in a door. She laid eggs, she only tilted her head slightly and she befriended the less cruel chickens. She still slept in a different place than them, she would still eat wet food, and I would still watch her with a hawk’s eye.
Months later I walked into her bed and she lied there dead. I still wonder what caused it. Was it her age? Was it something from the event that occurred seven months earlier? Or was she just ready to die?
We buried her on the same day and my tears covered the dirt of where she lay. My tears soaked the area – I’m sure they reached her body that lied so far beneath the dirt. Her body lays in the dirt that I shed my tears on today. But, she doesn’t lay there. She is somewhere, in some beautiful place, dancing with the land just of how she always dreamed. A rock lay by her grave and on it are the words ‘Crazy 8.’ We called her Crazy 8. Her name is Crazy 8.