A Living Legend

West Indian people the world over, and indeed cricket fans from other nations, still might not have come down from the high of the superb and chanceless innings that was completed at the Antigua Recreation Ground on Monday April 12, 2004.

The superlatives flowed from millions of mouths across the globe, though still failing to fully capture the wonder of what they had witnessed. Because surely, there can never be enough words in any dictionary to describe the feelings that were experienced or the enormity of what had occurred.

Even that man, the one with the willpower and nerves of titanium, might still not yet be able to come to grips with what he had done, what he had given to us. Days after he had turned the cricket world upside down, all he can feel right now is "tired". As well he should, because he managed to squeeze four centuries into less than three days. He went into battle on Saturday, and on Monday he was still undefeated. Just 7 minutes short of 13 hours he had blazed away, until he mercifully decided that he had punished the disbelievers long enough.

How fitting it is that this feat was accomplished on Easter Monday? Surely, no one can deny that this is a chosen one, and he who is blessed by a higher power, no mortal man can ever curse. With a ruthless and fearless six followed by a deft sweep for four, Brian Charles Lara once again scaled the highest heights of cricket supremacy. And we all scaled it with him, because it was for us as much at it was for him.

The Lord doesn't give us more than we can bear, and over the past few weeks West Indian people have been in pain and depression. We needed something special to give us some hope, some reason to believe, and who else to do this but the one that had done it several times before, our prince Brian Charles? Because of him we all were able to laugh, to cry, to scream in abandon when the joy was just too much to hold in. It is just amazing how life can unfold and how our faith and belief can be tested to the extreme.

Many of us had given up hope, and understandably so, because the events leading up to this one would make even the staunchest supporter abandon ship. Even the great one himself had succumbed briefly to the weakness of self-doubt. But he prayed for guidance and strength, and quickly remembered his purpose. Those that loved and supported him unconditionally assured him that the sky is darkest before dawn breaks through. But there were the Judases, ready to hand him over for slaughter. The vultures were slowly circling, hoping and waiting for some fodder.

But it was not to be. They would all have to wait a little longer, or better yet, die of starvation. The naysayers would have to swallow their pride mixed with the bitter taste of bile and stand up to applaud. They were humbled yet again by the indomitable spirit of this man, because even as they were saying, "ashes to ashes" he was singing, "no grave can hold my body down!" He is the epitome of The Phoenix, because surely he has risen from the very depths of despair before, and now he has soared to a peak never before reached.

It is said that success is seventy-five percent inspiration and twenty-five percent perspiration. There is no doubt that this is the case in cricket, because mental strength must be paramount even over physical. Of course you need to have endurance to pull off such a Herculean task, but strength of will is what will help you to overcome. We need to stop and ponder for a minute about the power of the mind and will that can push a body to achieve this feat all of ten years after he had done it before, and to do this with no less than the impediment of a broken finger.

This man could not be ordinary, and he never will be. If he cannot be described as great then that word needs to be banished from the vocabulary. There is immense significance in the fact that before this, only one batsman in the history of cricket had crossed the 300-mark more than once.

Many are called but few are chosen, and of all the legends that have come and gone not one was able to equal this achievement. Brian Lara not only equaled this, but went one step further, and now every record book and every statistics table will have to make a column for quadruple centuries, even though there is just this single one to date. Yes, he is in a class all by himself, and rightly so because he is incomparable and unparalleled.

When he made 400 not out, Brian Charles Lara breathed new life into tired, weary West Indies fans. On that day all of us were once again proud to be West Indian, because one of our very own had showed the world what great things we are capable of. What he did for the bruised and tortured souls can never be measured. He was fighting for our very survival, saving us from totally going under.

Monday, April 12, 2004 will certainly go down in West Indian folklore, the same way that Monday, April 18, 1994 did, and the hero of the stories will remain the same. How many people get the chance to relive a dream such as this? The chosen one has been given this opportunity to travel the same path twice; only this time he is ten years older and wiser, with battle scars instead of youthful exuberance.

He will no doubt be more aware and able to appreciate the simple fact that he is blessed, just as we must appreciate that we have in our midst a living legend.