Here's something to ponder about: Why is it that when a team scores massive amounts of runs against India, all the Indian fans solely credit the thrashing to great batting by the opposition? Why do they passingly express their disappointment at their bowlers here and there, before endlessly feasting on trashing any under-performing batsmen, calling for new ones, and proposing radically new batting orders? Even bowlers from the opposing teams feel ignored every time they cause an infamous Indian batting collapse. The Indian fans get so obsessed with criticizing their batsmen that they leave the poor bowlers from the opposition begging for some well-deserved praise.

Clearly, there is a deeper psyche here that's rooted in a strange obsession with batting. I think Indian fans are guilty of looking at batting as executive management, bowling as clerical, and fielding as purely janitorial. I would even go Freudian and relate this obsession with batting to a mass manifestation of penis envy. Who can deny the charm of a cricket bat as a phallic object, whipping the little slut, lovingly nicknamed “Cherry,” around the ground? Isn't it the phallic bat that batsmen, in the privacy of their locker rooms, oil with pride while fantasizing about banging some Cherries, proudly relishing the strokes formed on the willow as love-bites from past relationships? Even at the pitch, who looks more majestic? Those who run in to serve the boss; or the boss himself, standing majestically in the center of the field, proudly dictating the proceedings with his huge, flashing organ?

Now the question is, who cares about poor Cherry? Yes, that little slut who goes around in everyone's hands, only to be licked, rubbed, and fingered; taking all the abuse while losing its shine as it ages, knowing all the while that it will be tossed aside at any moment, only to be replaced by a fresh, glossy virgin. Well, the simple answer is, no one cares about poor Cherry. So why even expect an aspiring Indian cricketer to dream of becoming a bowler!