Photo Courtesy: www.kumarsangakkara.lk

I don’t take much pride in the fact that the cricket fan in me awakens once every four years only. Despite my limited knowledge of the game, during the World Cup I find it impossible to not jump into cricket-related talk around me.

I secretly Google things my cricket-fanatic friends say to understand them better and actually take the time to design arguments against them. The World Cup bug has me incessantly updating my Facebook/Twitter statuses. I take it upon myself to commentate the game to animal, object and person alike. Becoming extraordinarily superstitious, I wear only my lucky colour (yellow) for all Pakistan matches. 

Perhaps amid the blind frenzy, I more innately yearn for the sense of national unity that only cricket has a way of bringing about in Pakistan.  It is safe to say, one can easily escape many prejudices in this country if you’re rooting for the same cricket team.  This year was no different.

Outwardly, I rebuked public opinions regarding the India-Pakistan semi final as “war” but inwardly a sadistic cry for battle wounds kept vehemently pushing up my throat. Of course with Pakistan’s loss I got what I asked for – battle wounds – big, gaping ones.

Seething with resentment, and somewhere in between the superficial reassurances “there’s always next time,” “the better team won” and “it’s just a game,” I sat down to see the tournament to its end.

I had decided since India looked better on paper, I was happily prepared to accept their win on their home turf as laudable and more importantly, Sachin Tendulkar's possible hundredth international 100. If nothing else, since the game wasn’t personal with Pakistan’s absence, I would even settle for glimpses of Bollywood celebrities.

What stumped me instead during the match, was Kumar Sangakkara’s captaincy. For someone who hasn’t followed a lot of Sri Lankan or otherwise cricket previously, I was astounded to see that it takes some sort of courage to be a respectable sportsman than a worthy champion.

As I followed Sri Lankan supporters on public forums, I found that many spoke of not even expecting their team to win the Cup but instead they hoped for a good fight, a real game. And I feel the Sri Lankan team, under Sangakkara’s leadership, gave them just that.

As if brilliant cricket was not enough for the day, Sangakkara went ahead and gave the most commendable presentation speech; quintessentially highlighting the fact that cricket is in fact a gentleman’s game. My heart went out to him just as much as it did to my own Afridi.

Sangakkara’s humility and sincerity to the game personifies a phenomenal sportsman spirit.

With India playing as a consistent unit throughout the tournament, congratulations is due to them for the big win. As for Sangakkara, bigger and more significant than any Cup, I congratulate you for winning hearts this year.