When I was a kid, my dream was to save one lakh rupees.

When I grew up a bit more, I thought if I earn 50k a month I would be a contented man.

At around the same time, I had added a visit to the MCG to my bucket list.

Looking back now, I can dismiss the first two as naiveté.

Today, I took a stroll around the G.

I met Ponsford who was perhaps setting off for a run, yet another one in his marathon collection. There was Lillee a few meters away in all his brutal beauty, and Bradman too, basking in the familiar delight of yet another pom-bashing I reckon. Then there was the superstar, Keith Miller. If someone had told me that he ruled the world, I would have believed it. As if to get me out of the time machine, there was Warnie too, in that quintessential posture where every part of his body synchronizes to produce the magnus effect , only that looking at the ball wouldn’t give any clue of that to the batsman yet.

I did what I wanted to do 20 years back.

I was as thrilled as I had first entertained the idea.

And I haven't even been to the museum yet. Nor did I get to go inside the ground. Just the stroll around the G.