Rahul’s relationship with the BCCI, and for that matter a large section of ungrateful Indian cricket fans has been kinda like being extremely in love with a really shallow bitch.
Rahul loves cricket. Rahul loves playing for his country. And he is very good at it. One of the best ever, in fact.
If Indian cricket was Rahul’s girlfriend, he got up early, made breakfast for her, drove her to work, spent lunch listening to her banal bullshit, picked her up in the evening, flew her to an exotic locale just for dinner, made crazy-passionate love to her, spent more time listening to her banal bullshit, made crazy-passionate love to her again, and cuddled her to sleep.
And cleaned the house after.
Every single day.
But shallow bitches are exactly that, and your relationship tends to revolve solely around their needs. If there is a potential replacement on the horizon, you might stumble upon her sucking his cock in a closet at some party. They derive happiness from you when they can, and use you as release when they aren’t.
Rahul always knew he was good enough for her. So when she chose to switch loyalties to some trophy-fly-by-night operators, he didn’t bother saying that he was leaving, or saying anything for that matter. He would announce it himself when he felt he wasn’t good enough. Not for little quickies or long extended sessions… when he wasn’t good enough, period.
When she ran into trouble, she asked him for help. He came along, helped her out of it, and took it with typical dignity when she asked him to fuck off later.
And typically, she ran into trouble again, and she asked again.
And this time he said “Of course my darling, but you can fuck off after.”
With typical dignity of course.
Fuck her Rahul. You are way too good for her.
