Surprise, Surprise. Or Shock, Shock.

Ho ho. What a great, big, enormous surprise. If England's win in the first of the best-of-three finals of the tri-series in Australia could have been brushed off as a freak happening, their resounding victory in the second final today was anything but freaky. They were the better side today, no two ways about that. Barely a day after I called the English ODI side a great many unflattering names, including pathetic and uninspiring, they've gone out and done the unthinkable. Beaten Australia in their own den, not just once or twice, but thrice in a row. I have to admit, I don't feel too good about my excessive and arrogant faith in the Australian team's ability now. Maybe the Aussies aren't really all that they're cranked up to be. Maybe Andrew Symonds is an indispensable part of the team. Maybe Mike Hussey isn't as prodigious as his statistics. Maybe Adam Gilchrist is a spent force. Or maybe, the England team aren't really a bunch of miserable pushovers. I'm sorry, but I'm just not up to a decisive analysis of the game today. It was shocking, that's all. Right from the persistence of the startling run of form of Paul Collingwood to the extraordinary amount of swing generated by Liam Plunkett and coming to a head with Jamie Dalrymple's sensational catch by to dismiss Shane Watson, the day was filled with shocks. Ah well, it was just one of those days.

India, meanwhile, made a terrible mess of what seemed a straightforward run chase against a spirited Sri Lankan side. I thought Mahendra Singh Dhoni was tailor-made for situations like the one his team found itself in today. I guess I was wrong. But the Sri Lankans were truly remarkable - Kumar Sangakkara's innings was a real gem, and some of the catches that the Lankans took would've done Jonty Rhodes proud. Pakistan, on the other hand, finally got a taste of what India had to suffer on their tour to South Africa, being presented with a difficult pitch and penetrative South African bowling. And to nobody's surprise, being the sub-continent team that they are, Pakistan surrendered as meekly as a bunch of frightened rabbits being forced to have dinner with a pack of wolves.

Karan Johar's Koffee with Karan began its second second season today, and his guests were, predictably, Shahrukh Khan, Kajol and Rani Mukherjee. I must say, I've gotten kinda tired of seeing these four talk about each other. The first half of the show was pretty dull, what with Shahrukh Khan's supposedly intellectual pearls of wisdom about everything from professional rivalry to the invasion of stars' privacy by the media being perfectly matched in drabness by Rani Mukherjee's political correctness and somewhat-lost expressions. It was only the now-legendary rapid-fire round and Kajol's overdone effervescence that kept the show alive. Frankly, I think Mr. Johar needs more than a change in the furniture and the colors of the sets to maintain the popularity of the show. Perhaps some interesting guests?

You know who'd make a great guest on Koffee with Karan? Andrew Flintoff, that's who. I just want to know whether he's capable of having any expression on his face other than those of delirious joy and tearful dejection. He always seems to be in one of these two moods, and today, sadly, it was delirious joy. How depressing.

World Cup Jitters and Moronic Marlon

Okay, so the Aussie cricket team is not invincible. A good catch or run out here, an inspired Flintoff spell there, and a brilliant Collingwood century somewhere in between can ensure that even an ODI side as pathetic as that of England can turn the tables on Ponting's men. Gone is the aura of irrepressible authority that seemed to have so thoroughly stunned the Englishmen (and the Kiwis too, for good measure) into submission only a fortnight ago. I guess this only goes to show just how important Andrew Symonds is to Australia's one-day make-up. And England's victory has just about set every single cricket follower's tongue wagging about how the World Cup isn't going to be a stroll in the park for Australia after all. While all of this may sound very nice and rosy, especially for all those competition-mad enthusiasts who have been lamenting the 'death' of cricket caused by Australia's ruthless domination of the sport, I still don't think any other team in world cricket have got it in them to stand up to the Aussie bullies with more than just a strong heart and a tough spirit. The ability of the Australian team remains unmatched - with a batting line-up like theirs, and a bowling attack that cannot find a place for Mitchell Johnson and Stuart Clark, South Africa and Co. will be hard pressed to hand it to the Aussies in crunch games like semi-finals or finals. And that is the naked truth, whether you like it or not. Competition-mad enthusiasts, you can take a hike.

Meanwhile, the English team is suddenly beloved again. Flintoff's cheery, casual, mischievous grin that he had so made his own last year is back, and so is optimism among the British media about England's World Cup chances. But I wouldn't get too excited too soon (not that I want to get excited - the England ODI team inspires just about as much excitement as Zimbabwe's hopes of a Test recall). After all, they're only just two Australia-inflicted thrashings away from returning to the grief stricken despair that they were in two weeks ago. Let's just wait and watch then, shall we?

West Indies cricket and Marlon Samuels, on the other hand, have managed to find yet another way to plunge into darkness and misery. Exactly how darned stupid Samuels would have to be to have allowed himself to get caught on tape having a conversation with a bookie, or a friend who sounds very much like a bookie, is beyond my comprehension. And from the looks of things, Samuels will be taking Chris Gayle down with him too. Honestly, I cannot believe this guy. For six years I have been tearing my hair in frustration at the incandescent talent of Samuels and his woeful inability to convert that talent into anything significant, and just when things were finally appearing to be falling into place for him with a century against Pakistan and a brilliant 98 against India, he goes out and shoves himself into this depressing mess. I'll just pray that Brian Lara doesn't lose his mind completely, seeing how determined his teammates and the West Indies cricket board are to ensure that he never brings back any semblance of dignity to West Indies cricket. Sad. Really, really sad.

What was not sad was the sensational batting exhibition put up by South Africa in the first game of their 5-match series with Pakistan which was followed up by a Pakistani assault in the very next game. If for South Africa Mark Boucher was stunningly effective and Jacques Kallis willing to show he can whack a cricket ball with all the savage force of a Lance Klusener, then Shahid Afridi was absolutely brutal and Mohammad Yousuf clinically classy for Pakistan. Clearly, 350+ scores are going to become much more commonplace in ODIs now. Which is simply terrific news. And cricket pundits who can't stand big hitting and would much rather watch quality bowling, you can take a hike too!

The Most Important Day of the Year

21st JULY! 21st JULY! WOOHOO!!!! No, I haven't lost my marbles just yet. 21st July is the date when Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will be released!!! And that, my friends, is big news. Gigantic news. Enormously colossal news. Heck, it might even be the be the most significant news of the last one year. And no, I'm not even remotely exaggerating. Consider this: for the next 168 days 55 minutes and 44 seconds (it wasn't me that calculated this - that credit goes to www.mugglenet.com), a sizable portion of the world's population will think about 21st July, 2006 with a fairly desperate sense of anticipation and feverishly wish the days to speed by faster than a Firebolt. Who cares about Hilary Clinton's presidential campaign? The world has Horcruxes and horrifying deaths (fictional, of course) and getting hold of the book not a nanosecond later than the precise moment the book is first made available to worry about.

I must confess that I was a little ashamed I didn't get to know the momentous news until almost a day after J K Rowling announced it on her website. I had decided to take a break from the Potter fansites for a few days and de-Potterize my mind a little (trust me, it does you no good to meditate on a particularly ridiculous Potter theory moments before going out to give a job interview). And look what I missed! An entire day of excited frenzy! I must have been crazy to have even thought of such a scandalous idea! OK, I think I'm going a little overboard now. But really, this IS great news for all Potter fans. I had been preparing myself for a September-to-December release date, considering the timings of Rowling's announcements at the time of The Half Blood Prince. That time, she had given the release date a full six months after she had declared the title, so I had suspected she would announce the release date somewhere around May. Also, I didn't think she would have risked cutting into the business of Movie 5, The Order of the Phoenix, by releasing the book anytime near the movie release date (which has been officially put as 13th July). But guess what, Rowling does have a humane side after all! I think the despair, despondency and depression of Potter fans was too much for her to bear. All the better for us!

Seriously though, I don't really think it was the wisest of moves to have the book and the movie releasing so close to each other. The movie's first week collections will of course be fantastic, but once the book releases I doubt many fans will want to return to the scene of Sirius's death or Snape's worst memory, particularly since there might be much more pressing matters to contemplate, like the possibility of Dumbledore making a smashing comeback or dare I say it, the devastating death of Harry. It just makes no business sense, if you ask me. Unless, of course, Rowling manages to convince Warner Bros. to delay the movie release by a bit, or even more cleverly, creates an intermingling connection between the events of book 5 and book 7, making it imperative to read or watch Phoenix again. Now wouldn't that be a masterstroke! And judging by the happenings in the first 6 books, there has been something of an inter-relationship between alternate books of the series - books 1, 3 and 5 follow vaguely similar paths, and the same can be said for 2, 4 and 6. So basically, that's just my cue to start reading books 1, 3 and 5 yet again.

I have been so caught up in the brouhaha of all of this that I have almost forgotten the Harry Potter-related news of two days ago that was nearly as significant as the release date news and certainly a lot more shocking. Daniel Radcliffe's very questionable decision to act in the controversial play Equus where he will shed his innocent schoolboy image in favour of a decidedly adult one has left me a little disturbed. Now don't get me wrong, Radcliffe is fully entitled to act in whichever play or movie he wishes to, but I just thought it would've been a bit more prudent for him to wait until the series was completed before venturing into such audacious projects. Why? Because however much we would like to shout out to the world that Rowling's creation transcends the boundaries of age and appeals to everyone aged from 5 to 60, children still form the most devoted fan base of Potterverse. And Equus is definitely not good news for children. Just something for Mr. Radcliffe to think about.

A Bucket Load of Movies

Is Chris Nolan one of the finest directors of our times? I was hardly done with gushing over Batman Begins, in which Nolan did the almost-impossible job of bringing back some dignity to the Batman franchise (those who've watched the George Clooney/Michael Keaton horrors that almost irreparably reduced Batman to a laughably childish piece of trash would know what I'm talking about). And now, after watching The Prestige, Nolan's latest offering, I can't help but feel that here is a director who's well on his way to Spielberg-ish legendary status. Hugh Jackman is simply brilliant in the movie, Christian Bale is remarkably efficient (though I do wish he'd mumble a little less) and even the relatively unknown Rebecca Hall turns in a sparkling performance. The sets, the photography, the editing, the dialogues - everything is absolutely top-notch. Though the sci-fi bits are a little difficult to digest, the way the writers manage to turn the 'magical' machine into the vehicle for carrying forward the basic idea of the movie - the futility of jealousy and obsession - is truly spellbinding. In fact, so polished is the execution of every single aspect of the movie, that one almost lovingly forgives Scarlett Johannson's daft turn as the confused vamp. Did the Oscar jury somehow forget to watch this movie? Now I can't wait to watch Memento, another supposedly virtuoso creation by the master filmmaker.

So my movie-watching spree continues. The Prestige was only one of the slew of movies I've watched over the past couple of weeks, and sadly, was one of the very few that actually left any sort of impact. Meet Joe Black, boasting such big names as Anthony Hopkins and Brad Pitt and such a riveting little concept as the personification of death, was a dismal disappointment. Why on earth the makers had to drag the flick into a 3-hour long exercise filled with abstract pauses and presumably thoughtful silences is beyond comprehension. The acting, save for the ever-dependable Hopkins, is abysmal (Claire Forlani, as the perennially teary-eyed damsel in distress is particularly awful), and don't even get me started on the ridiculous plot and ending and meaningless dialogues. And to think most people on www.imdb.com liked the movie! At least the movie taught me one thing - never to trust the opinions of internet movie fans. No wait, that very important lesson was taught me by another Brad Pitt monstrosity - Interview With The Vampire. Exactly how the producers managed to convince such big names as Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas to do a movie that basically only contained a string of disgusting sequences involving biting and drinking the blood of all sorts of creatures - rats, dogs, humans, etc. - will perhaps remain the most mysterious event in the history of the movies. And the rat/dog/human biting has been shown quite in quite graphic terms too - GROTESQUE!

Most of the comedies that I watched were predictable and boring. Adam Sandler has truly lost his touch - Click was just about as funny as Daniel Radcliffe's decision to give up his innocent schoolboy image and instead go for a shockingly adult one in his new play Equus. The same goes for You Me and Dupree, a rotten exhibition of how not to make a comedy movie (which probably also applies for Wedding Crashers, Owen Wilson's stupefyingly successful comedy from 2005). Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, however, was a refreshing deviation from the run-of-the-mill, and yes, a very surprisingly sane performance by the ever-maniacal Jim Carrey goes a long way in making the movie strikingly memorable. The movie's confusingly wonderful twists and turns and the very weird plot and editing make for one wondrous joy-ride, and Kate Winslet's shimmering performance as the two-faced love interest make it clear why she got an Oscar nomination for the role, though not quite why she didn't win. Jim Carrey, however, was back to his usual self in Fun with Dick and Jane, which wasn't quite as dreadful as Click or Dupree, but wasn't Carrey's best work either. And considering the measly handful of Carrey's flicks that were actually enjoyable (Liar Liar and The Mask are the only two that come to mind), that isn't saying much.

Alright, that's a lot of opinions for one day. I'll put off my evaluations of the rest of the movies I watched for another day, another post. In the meantime, let us all try to live life to the fullest and find that special something that makes living worthwhile, that momentous purpose for which the most devoted dedication would not be rewarding enough. Ah, seems Hollywood's hopelessly mundane, over-dramatized dialogues have got to my head. I really need to get myself some fresh air.

A Cracking Tournament, and Time For A New Favourite Player

I've just realized that I've been singing too many hosannas about Roger Federer the last couple of weeks, so I will not say anything complimentary about the man today in spite of having been witness to yet another scintillating performance by him in today's final against Gonzalez. Maybe I should only talk about Gonzalez. Fernando Gonzalez had a brilliant run to the final, beating the likes of Lleyton Hewitt (I'll get back to that tragedy later), James Blake, Rafael Nadal and Tommy Haas, all very convincingly, and one of them (Haas) with ridiculous ease. He played a very good match in the final too, but was consistently outplayed by his opponent. Alright, maybe he did make a lot more unforced errors than in his previous matches, but those were necessitated by the tremendous reputation and sheer shot-making ability of his adversary. By the time the third set had begun, Gonzalez had been totally taken apart mentally, and you truly had to feel sorry for a player who had worked so hard and had the ability to match that hard work. If Gonzalez had had to play any man other than the one he actually did, he would have won the match comfortably, but sadly for him, that was not to be. There! I went through an entire paragraph without a single plaudit about Federer. Isn't that a relief?

On a more serious note, this year's Australian Open was another thoroughly entertaining affair; tennis seems to be getting more competitive by the year. Third round clashes produced classics - the Safin-Roddick match was truly one to savor, and 3 of the top 4 seeds failed to make it to the semi-finals. Fernando Gonzalez was the story of the men's tournament, as was Marcos Baghdatis last year, but really, that was just because we've got so used to Federer regularly dismantling his opponents that it has become almost boring now. Nadal was a big disappointment, and seems to be on the decline after just two years in the top bracket of men's tennis. I suspect, though, that it's too early to begin writing him off just yet - he definitely has that 'fighting spirit' that I keep talking about, and the clay season is just about to start, so he may yet put together another stunning sequence of wins. Lleyton Hewitt was another big let-down, and frankly, I don't know how much longer I can put up with his lack of fitness, off-court problems and less-than-splendid form. I think it's time I chose a new favorite player, and Andrew Murray would be a very good candidate for that post, if his match against Roddick is anything to go by. He was definitely the better player for the good part of that match, and he also does have the honorable distinction of having beaten Roger Federer last year. For once, British enthusiasm about its young, emerging sporting hero does not seem misplaced or exaggerated.

Serena Williams's triumph in the women's section was astonishing for a lot of reasons - she is undoubtedly a great champion, and all those who've been doubting her abilities and mental strength (I can happily say that I wasn't one of those) should take a long, hard look at themselves, and perhaps die of shame. Maria Sharapova had a brilliant tournament until the final - clearly, she has all the makings of being a consistent champion, and hopefully, her modeling assignments won't derail that possibility too greatly. Nicole Vaidisova, Anna Chakvetadze and Lucie Safarova all firmly established their credentials too, and are only helping the new wave of Eastern European domination of women's tennis. America, however, had the last laugh this time round, and this was greatly helped by the fact that when Serena Williams is on song, there's not a single player on the women's tour who can defeat her.

So now it's time for the North American hard court season, followed by the extremely long clay one (you can almost see Nadal rubbing his hands in glee). Personally, I'm not too great a fan of clay court tennis, and I'm just hoping that Federer completes his career Grand Slam (and perhaps a calendar one too?) this year so I don't have to bother watching it next year. And I also hope that Murray breaks into the top ten in the rankings quickly. Just in case Hewitt adds another problem to his burgeoning list. Just in case.

Super Serena's Still Got It

I'd made up my mind that I wouldn't be writing another post on tennis until the the men's singles final was over and I could do a complete round-up of the entire tournament, but I can't resist putting in a few words tonight about Serena Williams's remarkable victory in the women's final. To say that she was the underdog coming into the tournament would be a huge understatement - she had been branded unfit, overweight, insufficiently motivated and a host of other uncomplimentary things by most people who'd been following her progress for the past one year. And yet, in true Serena style, she's managed to stun all her critics (and opponents) with some fierce tennis to add yet another Grand Slam title to an already-bulging collection. As I had said in my previous post about the Australian Open, a fighting spirit can take you places. And Serena Williams has just emerged as the most shining proof of that statement. We doff our hats to you, Serena - you certainly ARE the 'ultimate competitor'.

And while we're talking of doffing hats, I'm sure many would have been inclined to do that after watching the semi-final match, or mis-match, if you will, between Roger Federer and Andy Roddick. But no amount of hat-doffing (I wonder why that phrase has stuck with us for so long - who even wears hats in this day and age?) would be sufficient praise for the jaw-dropping exhibition that Federer put up. Seriously, is this guy human? Some of the shots that he played, particularly in the second set, were so sensationally stunning that everyone, including the commentators, were left simply speechless, and for once, this is NOT an exaggeration. I mean, when Federer kept coming up with one preposterous winner after another, all Vijay Amritraj and Alan Wilkins (the two men doing the commentary on Star Sports) could do was shout 'Aaaaah!' or 'Oooooh!' or sometimes, 'Stop it, Roger!'. The best player ever to play tennis? I have no doubt about that, none at all.

Tomorrow's final is shaping up to be a cracker of a match, and that is solely because Fernando Gonzalez has played some brilliantly one-sided matches on his way to the final. I must admit that I've become a fan of his after watching his match against Rafael Nadal. He's got a blistering forehand, and as a bonus he has found a way to make it deadly accurate too. Honestly though, if Federer plays anything close to the way he played against Roddick, no Gonzalez or Nadal or even a Rod Laver in his prime, if I may say so, can possibly hope to derail the Federer Express (okay, I know that was a horrible cliche', but it's just soooo effective). Grand Slam No. 10, HERE COMES FEDERER!!!!

The Many Woes Of A Potter Fan

The Devil Wears Prada wasn't a bad movie. It was fairly enjoyable, and made its point about the whole 'family comes first' theory, that seems to be getting very popular with Hollywood filmmakers these days, quite efficiently. But there was one sequence in the movie that was so jarringly unrealistic that it tarnished an otherwise quite proficient screenplay. I could readily agree with the movie's stand equating obtaining the manuscript of the latest unreleased Harry Potter book with the 'impossible' that Meryl Streep's Devil wishes to assign to the poor Anne Hathaway. But wonder of wonders, Hathaway actually manages to get hold of the manuscript! Now that was a fatal error that could most definitely been avoided. I mean, which self-respecting Harry Potter fan could possibly forgive such a monstrous lapse by the makers of the movie? Getting hold of an unreleased Potter manuscript is the most frighteningly impossible thing ever, and everyone knows that, right? If there existed even a slight possibility of obtaining such a priceless treasure, wouldn't every Potter lunatic (and there are quite a few of those) be straining every sinew to devise an awfully brilliant plan and grab it? Wouldn't they?

So the talented Ms Rowling has not considered it appropriate enough to give her despairing fans anything to cling their hopes to, like a release date for book 7 or something. It's alright, we can live with that for a few days more. In the meantime, what better way to kill the months than by going through the millions of theories that are simply waiting to be analyzed by the most hard-nosed of Potter followers? Other than the more obvious (and a little frustrating) 'Harry is a Horcrux' and the perennially unanswered 'Snape is evil' (or 'Snape is good', whichever way you wish to look at it) theories, I've been quite interested in speculations about the 'deathly hallows'. The common consensus is that the hallows refer to the places where Voldemort has hidden his Horcruxes, which I personally don't find convincing enough. But there have been some other versions too - one theory is that the 'hallows' are the souls of people who have died, hence the adjective 'deathly', and that these 'hallows' will in some way communicate with Harry, through avenues which could be anything from the Veil in the Department of Mysteries to the two-way mirror that Sirius gave Harry. Supposedly, the communication will be for the benefit of Harry in his quest to defeat Voldykins. J K Rowling has mentioned in one of her interviews that the two-way mirror will have an important role in book 7, and while I have always assumed this would be on account of Sirius's comeback in some form to help Harry, it could well be a means of communicating with any dead person, including Harry's parents, or perhaps more realistically, Dumbledore. Rowling has also said, of course, that Sirius had to die, that is, his death was very important for the story, so that's another intriguing little point that I have found no conclusive theories for yet. Perhaps the two-way mirror is far more significant than any of us have ever thought.

The mysterious R. A. B. continues to dominate most discussion forums, and yet we are no closer to knowing his (or her?) true identity than we are to knowing whether Harry is the heir of Gryffindor (another hotly debated topic). For my part, I'm almost convinced that the snivelling Mr. Borgin, co-owner of Borgin and Burke's (I hope I've got the name right - I'm not that crazy a fan), whose first name has been very suspiciously concealed by Rowling so far, fits the bill perfectly. He's a coward, he knows a lot about the Dark Arts, he looks at Death Eaters with something close to distaste - he really does have the right credentials. Though, of course, Severus Snape is a strong candidate too (his name seems to figure in nearly every theory; clearly, his character is a masterpiece - we salute you, J K Rowling!), as I just realized after reading an editorial at www.mugglenet. com. Interestingly, the argument with this is that Snape isn't actually R.A.B. - he is only impersonating, or framing, the real R. A. B., whoever he is. And considering Snape's general temperament and nature, this little point sounds very convincing. I'm still rooting for the inconspicuous Mr. Borgin though, and I'm sure I'll be very pleased with myself if I turn out to be right.

Lily Potter remains a fascinatingly cloaked character, and Rowling's declarations about the importance of her wand being good for Charms and Harry having her eyes, her green eyes, has only added to her 'charm'. Some say that the eyes thing was explained by the Slughorn incident in book 6 - when Slughorn looked at Harry's eyes, he was reminded of his favorite student Lily, and so could be persuaded to divulge the missing memory that Harry and Dumbledore wanted. But I'm not convinced about that one. I do believe that there will be a much more strong and interesting reason for Harry having his mother's eyes, or else Rowling would never have bothered to talk about it at all.

The possibility of Nagini, Voldemort's beloved pet snake, being the sixth Horcrux, as assumed by Dumbledore, has been dismissed by many theorists, on the belief that this assumption was one of Dumbledore's 'errors of judgement'. Well, if these theorists are right, and Nagini is not the sixth Horcrux, then we've got another huge problem, haven't we? I mean, we've hardly come anywhere close to cracking the identity of the fifth Horcrux, which Rowling had once said would be easy to find for a true Potter fan from book 6, then how on earth are we going to discover the SIXTH one? Clearly, we need to be even more maniacal than we now are to beat Rowling at her game. Another subject that has been discussed fervently is Trelawney's Prophecy, and just to show how stubborn and outrageously crazy Potter fans can get, some are even suggesting that it's Neville Longbottom, and not Harry, who is 'the One' referred to in the Prophecy, in spite of the fact that Rowling has unequivocally stated that Harry is most definitely 'the Chosen one'. Their argument? The Prophecy talks about 'the ONE', and not 'the CHOSEN one', and apparently there's a big difference between the two expressions. Think this is irritatingly outlandish? You haven't got a taste of the whole big, mad world of Pottermania.

Moving away from Harry Potter, England crashed to yet another dismal defeat against New Zealand today. Though this is not even mildly surprising any more, members of the British media have once again outdone themselves in heaping their scorn on the hapless team. I'll leave you with one passage written by Andrew Miller, the UK editor of Cricinfo, that had me laughing hysterically for no less than two whole minutes:
"And when the cameras panned in on the dressing-room, Fletcher's hangdoggy-in-the-window expression was, to the average long-suffering England fan, every bit as slappable as Ricky Ponting had found it to be at Trent Bridge in 2005. Quite how the shunned Chris Read, sitting in fulminating silence beside him, resisted the temptation, no-one will ever know."
Well done, Mr. Miller!