It is a strange quirk of my mental constitution or perhaps a reflection of my current state of affairs that when I watch movies, thoughts about cricket matches watched earlier are triggered. For example, yesterday I watched this lovely movie OK Kanmani, (which is really Alaipayuthey 2.0 (and this comment is to be interpreted in the deepest sense of 2.0)) thoughts of Baz McCullum’s sensational dismantling of the Australian pace attack in the 2015 World Cup was triggered. The 2015 World Cup was a kind of coming home kind of event for me. 23 years earlier, I had begun watching cricket in the 1992 World Cup also played in Australia / New Zealand. (So many memories of that World Cup which deserves a blog post of itself.) The way McCullum, ebullient and carefree, jumped out of his crease charging the Australian fast bowlers who were bowling at 150 kms per hour and smashing them all over the park…..what an impression it would have left on a little kid first watching cricket (another little aside: the grounds in New Zealand have little play areas for little kids…what a wonderful idea…during the 1992 World Cup, fired up by watching the actual cricketers, how I dreamed of playing cricket….). But more poignantly, the movie was stirring various emotions and all I could remember was a sad time in 1993 when my cousin had lost his father and we had visited him, the entire family shell shocked at the unexpected loss, and as an aid to forgetting it the kids played cricket; He was about 13 then and I was 9, and while batting he would charge down the wicket and try to smash the bowling all over and I remember how ironic my innocent comment then was….”Beware, play more carefully, the way you are playing you are going to lose your wicket”…(which I of course said in utmost earnestness) to a guy who had just lost his dad.