He scored one run in the final, even as his team lost to the superstars, proving that fairy tales exist only in story books. He was blamed by few for having come in to bat too late, at No 8, to help his team’s cause, who were up against a mammoth total of 202. He took whatever criticism he copped in his stride, like he had done his entire career. While the opposition team celebrated their win and lifted the “God” on their shoulders for the victory lap, he sombrely slipped away after the handshakes, never to be seen on the cricket field again.
He got the applause from the crowd, but nothing compared to his counterpart. He did not mind it. He was no God. He was no Sachin Tendulkar. He was Rahul Dravid.
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