Season summary by Chaitanya

Another season, another Infernos victory. I can celebrate, being an Inferno. I can just as well be heartbroken along with my friends in the Vikings. Both emotions are easily forgotten over a beer. But there is something else from this season that stays. 

Maidaan has always been a stage for the superstar cricketer. Not everyone can summon superlative skill at will to turn matches single-handedly like an HK, a Hari or an Arjun can. One can't do much when an HK or a Hari starts hitting sixes for fun or when Arjun makes the ball defy gravity. They are a rare breed. They are to be admired from a distance with awe. And with helplessness if you find yourself at the receiving end. In the moment it all feels hopeless. 

I remember my first season when a ball was thrust into my hands during a passage of play when HK was in full swing. I was mercilessly butchered the first few balls. I saw Arjun walk up to me. I hoped for some insight-filled advice on how to stop HK. What I got was, "You are doing the best you can. But it's HK. There's nothing much you can do. Bowl into his legs and hope that he mishits." That was the day I found out that all you could hope for was luck. 

But I have been lucky enough to see hope mutate. It has evolved into a different beast. But evolution is uncontrolled, painful, and frustratingly slow. The erstwhile Vikings (prior to this season) endured three seasons of drubbing. I was a Viking for two of those three seasons. I know how painful it was. But bubbling away in the cauldron of constant defeat, something was slowly brewing. Players kept pulling closer with each defeat. Almost as if defeat did not matter. All that mattered was pushing the team forward, fighting for every inch and bouncing back - even if it was to take another punch. Pride was no longer linked to winning. Pride came from being a warrior.

The cruel nature of evolution is that those who pay for the pain of evolution aren't always the ones to reap its rewards. The teams were redrawn. The Vikings scattered. But the sense of a warrior remained in those who stayed and those who left. And they carried that spirit with them, adding more brethren. A new season started, superstars were traded, teams were balanced. It turned out to be one of the most closely contested seasons. The think tank that created such balanced teams should be given credit. 

But there was something more to it this season. Superstars remain superstars. They have, if anything, gotten even better. But it was no longer down to them. Teams no longer cower at their sight. The warriors have learned to stand their ground. Their skill may be outmatched, but their will to win is not. Superstars don't decide the fate of matches anymore, warriors do. And there were enough examples this season.

Two men have embodied the spirit of the warrior more than anyone else. Look a man in his eyes, they say, and he'll tell you all there is to know about him. I invite each of you to hold a bat in the middle of a game and look into the eyes of these two men charging up to bowl and you will know the definition of a warrior. And it is therefore apt that these two men are being held up as examples to follow, not just for us, but for the younger generation.

I am proud to announce the two men of the series for this season, two brothers I deeply admire - Satya and Dhruv.