Centurion Diaries: Man vs (Vegetarian) Food

January 9 - A beach run

Cape Town has been more fun than I'd bargained for at the start of a taxing cricket tour. India's four-day defeat has given me an extra day there. I decide to do the touristy thing and take the open-top bus. I board at the beautiful Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens and hop off finally at Camps Bay where a fellow journalist discovers the perils of a heavy breeze. The wind blows the ticket out of his pocket and begins sucking it into the Atlantic Ocean. The most intense bit of running in Denim and sneakers ever seen on a beach follows to retrieve the ticket.

Post Edit: The journalist, who doesn't wish to be named, claims that if Cheteshwar Pujara had run as fast, he wouldn't have been run-out in the second innings at Centurion. I disagree. If he'd run as fast, he'd have settled for two.

January 10 - Airplane mode

I'm on the flight to Lanseria International Airport. It's more commonly known as the 'other' airport at Johannesburg. The 'other' journalists are landing at the swanky OR Tambo International Airport. Apparently, domestic flight operators too fly Tambo rejects to Lanseria. Half an hour into my flight, by when I've finished rummaging through the in-flight magazines, I plug my earphones on for music. The air-hostess doesn't take too kindly to this act of mine. I inform her that my phone's on "Airplane Mode." She casually lets me know that the plane isn't "modern enough" for such advancements in mobile technology. She waits until she sees the last speck of light disappear from my switched-off phone and then asks if I'd like a sandwich and chips. I rebel but eventually settle on a cookie.

January 11 - Howzzit Centurion?

Howzzit? asks my enthusiastic Uber driver Kasho as we get in to his Toyota Corolla. I don't get his question and smile like an idiot. He looks at me through the rear-view mirror and maintains silence for the rest of the trip. I get told later in the evening that it's a linguistic quirk for "How are you?" in South Africa. The most common response is "Good, and you?" Alternatively, there's 'shaap shaap' which is simply 'fine'

Centurion Park is one of the few privately-owned stadiums in the world and hence it's official name - SuperSport Park. Despite being a new stadium, it does a good job of being South Africa's bastion. It is predominantly green. Seventy percent of the stadium's seating capacity is the grass banks. It is the kind of venue where you feel intimately connected to the match, no matter where you're sitting. "Fans are allowed to carry their own deck chairs, umbrellas and sun screen" says one signboard. It reminds me of Harry Potter and the first-year letter from Hogwarts. Amidst all the greenery, a journalist observes that the pitch is remarkably brown, and that instantly elicits a lot of "Is this Centurion or Chepauk" jokes among the travelling contingent.

Outside in the B grounds, Virat Kohli is not having a great time. A Titans junior cricketer gets a ball to rise on him from length and hits him on the midriff. He winces and proceeds to edge the next two deliveries in his attempts at attacking. Back in the main ground, the defence forces of South Africa rehearse for their opening-day drill while Parthiv Patel lounges on the grass by the boundary. I envy him. I get chatting to a security guard, who doesn't know much about the Indian cricket team. He asks me if they'll be able to compete. I tell him they are unbeaten for ever in Tests. I've avoided his gaze since.

January 12 - Lenny

Faf du Plessis is not pleased at the pre-match presser. Nor am I. He is worried about the pitch not being to his demands (yes, fast and bouncy with a little lateral movement, we get it, Faf!) My concerns are more primal. In three days at Centurion, I've found one vegetarian option in my hotel - a giant, bland portion of Macaroni and Cheese. It's evening by the time India wrap up training - Parthiv is not lounging today but padding up and everything. That's enough to set the cat among the pigeons. A couple of journalists tell me they are heading to the Centurion Mall for a late lunch and drinks. I join them. After a brief recce for my sake, they settle down at a restaurant called "Chicken Licken." I continue looking and lose all hope when I spot Lenny's Hot Dog joint. Some divine force takes me in and I hit and hope with: "Do you have anything in vegetarian?"

Lenny at the counter smiles. He says he'll make me a tofu-based hot dog if I wait. I don't need to check my calendar, I'm only happy to oblige. So while he gets his attendants to fetch the Tofu. We get talking. About cricket, about Kohli and if the current Indian captain would have been able to play Waqar Younis's reverse swing! Lenny tells me he is a fourth-generation South African. His forefathers came to South Africa from India as cheap labour in the Sugarcane farms. His family name is Lenny Sagadevan Kandasamy. He is not aware which part of 'South India' he is from. Seeing me polish my food up, he tells me he'll cook "Bhindi (Okra) and Rice" at home the next day and bring it in a box. I ask him not to bother but he says he has a lot of time in his hand because his wife is away at Port Elizabeth.

Give me a call when you're in India, won't you Lenny?

January 13 - The Open Press Box

Moments after Virat Kohli loses the toss again, Lenny calls and asks me to stop by the mall in the evening for my Bhindi and rice. With the promise of a great evening, I make my way to the press box in Centurion. It's open and very close to the action. I've always romanticised the open press box at Kanpur and Sharjah - you don't feel disjointed from the action up in a glass chamber and in a Test match, you can hear the batsmen's calls, clear as crystal, if you pay attention at a tense moment, you can also hear the players when they're talking (sledging). Tristan swaps seats with another journalist to sit beside me while I swap my report-writing responsibilities with him. More work for him. This should be a good Test match, if I can just get the internet working.

January 14 - Room of requirement

I'm a little homesick today because of all the Happy Pongal wishes. But that lasts for a fleeting moment. Soon I'm in a small room that probably not many people in SuperSport Park know of. It is a real-life embodiment of the 'Room of Requirement'. It has about 1500 chairs in rows of stacked chairs. There are buckets, mops and some acid solutions and janitors keep going in and out of it. There is also a rancid smell of a deceased rodent. May his soul rest in peace. I've been repeatedly told that fast bowlers are crazy, but this is a first-hand experience. The charming Fanie de Villiers has picked this setting for our