Proteas stumped by security detail

Such is the hysteria in India that the SA squad can’t move without a security guard raising an eyebrow.

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Such is the hysteria for any cricketer of reasonable standing in India, South Africa’s players can’t move without a security guard raising an eyebrow.

They are confined to the team hotel, buses and flights, and their greatest freedom is on the cricket field on match day.

Beyond that, the players get very familiar with the wallpaper in their hotel rooms, and the occasional golf course at best.

There was a hilarious scene in Kanpur when a few members of the Proteas management team, and former captain Graeme Smith, tried to go for a leisurely jog, the day after the first One-Day international.

Security took one look at them, and with a considered wobble of the head, confirmed that “this is not possible”.

Everything requires security detail in India, because every fan in the street now has a mobile phone.

So, it is no longer enough for them to know they have just seen a former or current player. They need to prove it. And that requires a selfie.

They don’t know much English, but “selfie” and “possible” are clearly high up on the crash course syllabus.

Everywhere you go, this occurs. Occasionally, they confuse us lowly journalists for someone of importance, too.

One poor sod ran a good 300 metres, selfie-mode at the ready, thinking a colleague (white, fairly fit male) who goes by the name “Saddles”, was AB de Villiers.

Too good a chance, surely. Having dashed all that distance, only to find we were lowly press-whalla, he shrugged, and then smiled. “One selfie still possible, bhai (brother)?”

I was mistaken for a player, too. Elton Chigumbura, the chunky Zimbabwean batsman, to be precise.

Who says Indians don’t know their cricketers? Sometimes, all you can do is laugh.

India is a fantastic, frenetic country, rich in its love for the game, and its brazen approach to anything or anyone that is new to their eyes.

“Saddle-Bhai” has been to India 20 times, and has picked up his fair share of baby Hindi.

We have developed a game, which requires us to use as few English words as possible in a day. The head wobble is obligatory. It means everything from hello, to okay, why not, bye and probably even “selfie possible”.

It’s become such a staple in conversation that I have wobbled my way through airport check-ins and ordering a meal in a restaurant. No words necessary, sir.

All this cultural confusion can only be experienced on the street, where the heart of India beats through tuk-tuks, bicycles, motorbikes and every other ingeniously constructed mode of transport you can find. India is alive with possibility.

For players, then, who only see the mass hysteria at each ground, it can’t be much fun, because they are truly missing out.

Sure, they stay in the best hotels and enjoy the finest food, which means they probably make do without the frankly inhumane smells and sights that one stumbles upon here, but that isn’t really India.

You haven’t tasted India until you are on the streets, and two street vendors are making mind-blasting promises about how their products are better than the next man.

Of course, you also haven’t truly experienced India until a meal disagrees with your constitution, and you are a tuk-tuk ride away from your hotel…

Then, and only then, as you pray to every god in this beautiful land, will you realise that absolutely anything is possible…