A Juggernaut Called Jemimah Rodrigues

Jemimah Rodrigues – the cricketing equivalent of that friend who shows up to the party in sweatpants, cracks a dad joke that somehow lands, and then accidentally wins the beer pong tournament. In a sport where Indian women batters are expected to channel the ghosts of Tendulkar and Laxman while dodging curveballs from selectors faster than a rickshaw in Mumbai traffic, Jemimah has carved out a career that’s equal parts fairy tale, farce, and feel-good redemption arc. At 26, she’s the right-handed firecracker who’s just slapped Australia – yes, those Aussies, the ones who treat opposition bowlers like piñatas at a kid’s birthday bash – into semi-final submission at the 2025 Women’s World Cup. But let’s rewind the VHS of her life, shall we? Because if cricket teaches us anything, it’s that highs come with more plot twists than a Karan Johar movie, and Jemimah’s reel is a blockbuster begging for popcorn.

Picture this: It’s 2017, and a 17-year-old Jemimah from Bhandup – that unpretentious Mumbai suburb where dreams are forged in the sweat of local maidans – unleashes hell on Saurashtra in an Under-19 one-dayer. She smashes 202 not out off 163 balls, becoming only the second woman after Smriti Mandhana to notch a double ton in 50-over cricket. It’s the kind of knock that makes coaches spill their chai and scouts scribble her name in permanent marker. By 2018, she’s debuting for India in T20Is against Sri Lanka, followed by ODIs versus England, and suddenly, the nation’s got a new poster girl for prodigy power-hitting. Fast-forward to the 2022 Commonwealth Games, where she helps snag gold, and her ODI stats start looking like a motivational quote: 1,472 runs in 53 matches at an average north of 32, with two centuries and a highest of 123. Awards? She’s got the Jagmohan Dalmiya for best junior domestic batter and a “Breakthrough Performance” nod that screams “future GOAT-in-training.” Highs like these aren’t just career milestones; they’re the cricket gods high-fiving her mid-air, whispering, “Kid, you’re onto something big.”

But oh, the lows – because nothing says “welcome to elite sport” like the universe handing you a participation trophy made of quicksand. Jemimah’s dips read like a tragicomedy scripted by a selector with a grudge. Early on, she was the U-19 queen bee, averaging over 100 with bat and ball (19 wickets as an off-spinner, because why not multitask?). Yet, as she graduated to the big leagues, the inconsistencies crept in like uninvited aunties at a wedding. Dropped from the ODI side more times than I’ve dropped my phone in the loo, she grappled with form that flickered like Diwali lights on a budget. T20Is? Solid, with her aggressive strokeplay turning bowlers into bewildered therapists. But the longer formats? Cue the existential crisis. And then, the real gut-punch: anxiety, that sneaky villain who turns sixes into self-doubt spirals.

Just before the 2025 World Cup, Jemimah hit rock bottom – or as she put it, “I was crying every day.” Dropped from the team amid a rough patch, she confessed to phoning her mom in tears, battling intrusive thoughts that made every net session feel like a therapy couch audition. “When you get dropped, a lot of voices start playing in your head,” she shared post-heroics, her voice cracking like a teenager’s during exams. It’s the unglamorous side of stardom: the pressure cooker of expectations where one bad tournament can make you question if you’re batting for India or just against your own mirror. Jemimah’s lows weren’t flashy failures – no infamous ducks here – but the slow-burn kind, where potential meets the pavement, and you’re left wondering if the pitch is tilted or if it’s just you.

Enter the controversies, because what’s a cricketer’s bio without a dash of tabloid spice? Jemimah’s big scandal hit in October 2024, when Mumbai’s posh Khar Gymkhana – that colonial-era club where memberships cost more than my annual grocery bill – yanked her three-year associate status faster than you can say “foreigner on the green.” The culprit? Her dad, Ivan Rodrigues, a pastor accused of hosting unauthorised “spiritual sessions” (read: Christian prayer meetings) on club turf, sparking wild rumours of forced conversions. Right-wing handles piled on, turning a family faith flare-up into a national circus, with Jemimah caught in the crossfire like a fielder dodging a rogue throw. The club cited “concerns,” but let’s call it what it was: a witch hunt wrapped in bylaws, where her evangelical roots clashed with khaki-short snobbery. Jemimah stayed mum publicly, but the sting lingered – a year later, it’s poetic justice that the same nation now toasts her as a hero, her bat silencing the trolls louder than any press conference could.

And speaking of toasts: Fast-forward to October 2025, World Cup semi-final against Australia. India needs 339 – a chase that sounds like “abandon hope, all ye who enter here.” Enter Jemimah at No. 3, dropped twice (on 82 and 106, because cricket loves drama), yet unfazed, she grinds out an unbeaten 127 off 140 balls, anchoring the impossible. Teary-eyed in the post-match huddle, she spills: “Anxiety nearly broke me, but my teammates pulled me through.” It’s the stuff of legends – from gymkhana outcast to World Cup wrist-slapper, proving resilience isn’t just a buzzword; it’s her superpower.

So, what’s my hot take on Jemimah Rodrigues? In a women’s game that’s exploding like fireworks at India’s 75th Republic Day – yet still begging for the spotlight it deserves – she’s the unfiltered gem we need.

(The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai. Views personal.)