The Rajasthan Royals are out of the IPL but they over-achieved. And I am actually quite sad to see them go. It didn’t matter who was in their side or indeed, who was in the opposition, the eye and the heart followed them. An oddball collection of talents led by a magnificent, ageing general, they should have had a movie made about them. They were the romantics of the tournament, full of hope and optimism; a kid who bowled left arm quick and had never played at any level before this, another barely known outside his province who replaced him and took wickets at a miserly rate, there were people who batted anywhere, you never knew who was going to play when. They should call themselves the Rajasthan Romantics. There was little that was imperial about them.

Last year, Warne and the Royals scripted a fairy tale. This year the lead fairies didn’t turn up. No Watson, no Tanvir, no Akmal. Not enough wands now, not enough spells. The students tried hard, sometimes out of sheer willpower they turned coal into a diamond but only sometimes. Even Warne was a year older. He knew his lines, he had the old bluster, but you could tell he hadn’t been on stage for a while. He bowled magical spells but from time to time irreverent kids charged him and put the ball in the stands.

Man to man, the Royals just didn’t belong. They had far too many players who weren’t coveted by others, who wouldn’t have made a short list of any other team. They were good and Warne was willing to back them, but at times his team was producing high school musicals in a competition of lavish productions. To be fair to him, Warne showed that you don’t need to be lavish, but on the big day you need the experienced star; you need Naseeruddin Shah to deliver the lines, sometimes Warne was stuck with Anand Kumar, class 8B. When he needed masterpieces he had artisans around, he had uncut stones that will glitter one day but can’t quite fit into a necklace just yet.

... contd.