BBQ stories for the rest of your life

I’m often trying to describe the IPL experience to people. I’m asked “What’s the IPL like?” at least 100 times a year.

The trouble is, I still haven’t answered that question myself. I can never find an accurate answer. There’s an X factor with the IPL that you can’t quite put your finger on. There are just so many aspects to this competition that you must simply be a part of to understand.

And so started my journey to IPL5. Boarding the flight to Bangalore were my wife, two young children, myself and Ludo. Ludo has joined my family as our “peace and sanity technician” – a special role designed to keep our high-octane kids from driving us insane in the hotel, and to get them to sleep when cricket gets in the way.

As a small thank-you for looking after the kids for the last two months while I was in South Africa, my wife grabbed my boarding pass and turned left, into business. I turned right, with the kids, towards my economy seat, 73E - no doubt wedged between a first-time traveller and serial eater from Essex named Beverley, and a renewed vegan new-age know-it-all called Felix.

Things changed dramatically when the steward, George, stopped me in my tracks with “Are you going to the IPL?” Two minutes later the family and I were sipping champagne in seats 1A to E.

In a coup of sorts, we arrived well rested into Bangalore, with all bags first off the plane, hand luggage accounted for and children in good moods. Things could only get worse, and we weren’t disappointed when escorted to our waiting car – the Suzuki Swift. Five people, four suitcases, two sets of golf clubs, six pieces of hand luggage and a driver to fit into a compact car.

These first 12 hours were so typical of an IPL day, and it’s these types of surprises and experiences that make the IPL what it is. It is not just about the cricket. Sure, that’s important, but as a player we play it year-round, across the globe, and it does not change.

What is different here in India are the experiences - the intangibles - like the sights and smells, the atmosphere, the madness, chaos, mayhem and fun, and most importantly the people.

The IPL is about getting back to the hotel each night and saying to your mates, “Damn, you should have seen what happened to me today!”

It is spending hours telling stories of your day - both good and bad. The stories of the driver from the airport who played chicken at 140kph past buses in the wrong lane at 4am, while we sat white-knuckled in the back, praying to whatever god of traffic could possibly save us.

It’s your body’s reaction to turning nocturnal as the tournament wears on. It’s the boredom of finding ways to waste six hours during a down day. It’s ordering a “pizza with the lot, without prawns” and receiving a prawn pizza. It’s asking for two towels and receiving eight, or arriving in your new hotel room to find a personalised “Good Luck Dirk” chocolate cricket ball, ready to be devoured. It’s the stories of the police escorts, armoured troopers and bulletproof cars. It’s the rooftop, romantic five-star meal that’s interrupted by a friendly and inquisitive eight-inch rat scurrying under your feet.

It’s the photo shoot that has you wearing mascara and Vettori’s glasses, while eating penne arrabbiata, looking serious and sipping wine in a tweed hat.

It’s the life guard from the pool leaving his post, going five floors to the road below to find the ball you accidentally threw over the pool fence. And it’s the same life guard employing a local sniffer dog half an hour later to find the same lost ball, and finally it’s his profuse apologies for failing to locate the 25-cent tennis ball after almost an hour.

However, most overwhelmingly it’s the happiness that both the tournament and we as cricketers seem to bring to so many people. The Indian people turn this into something that is so much more than a cricket tournament. To the players involved, the IPL becomes a cherished experience. It’s something to tell your grandkids about - a source of BBQ stories to be retold for years to come. It’s something I am eternally fortunate and grateful to be part of.