Watching with the sound up, you can hear the caller's voice break when the wicket falls — reminds me of my son’s call last week, trying to sound brave about his job. The English commentators are talking strategy, but the Hindi feed is all heart, like my transistor radio playing an old Ghantasala song. I keep one eye on the camera chasing the bowler and the other on my tomato plants, hoping the rain holds off.
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