Whenever the pressure on the field will rise
My eyes will look for his calm experienced guise.
Whenever the ‘Big Stage’ will arrive
It will be ‘He’ whom I will find.
On those green fields
Behind those three stumps
Wearing those camouflaged gloves
On the shoulders supporting a head as cool as ice.
The Captain Cool
With a thinking beyond a common mind
Will be seen taking the pressure no more
And just living the game for last few times.
His sarcastic comments
His instant decisions
The way he saved his team from criticism…
It will all be missed
As the man decides to hang up his boots
Leaving a void, that will never be filled.