In an autobiography, Chris Gayle reveals how IPL changed his world and landed him at the Kingfisher mansion

My early days in India, and I'm lost. You be in the field and you're just lost. Lost completely in the middle. Sachin and Yuvraj smashing it all round, and the noise and the heat and the humidity... 'Chris man, what I got myself into?' And every day is ram-jam-pack, from the streets to the stadium, from early until past late. The ground full and noise, and every boundary they put away bringing a rolling wall of roars and whistles and drums down upon you. We can't focus, we can't hold catches. We can't work out the low turning wickets, and we can't work out the heat. Scores here and there, but every day a broken heart, out in the deep chasing and then again at the crease.

You try to ride it out, but it takes its toll. Mentally, the constant stimulation drains you. Physically, your immune system cannot handle it. You're going to get ill. You will get diarrhea, you will get sick, and out here that's not a pretty feeling. You lose a lot of weight in India. You get slim. Bad slim.

Back then. Back before the Indian Premier League.

It was the moment cricket changed forever, when the lifestyle of everyone who took part changed forever.

Doors opened up. Rewards came, at last, for many. Suddenly some were earning $1m for just over a month. Whoah! This is the new dawn. This is the new benchmark. And once I got to be part of it, having missed the first season through injury, it changed me and I changed it back.

It's big, it's big. It's like nothing else cricket has ever seen. Owners want the best players in their team, and if you're a star player you will be treated like a Bollywood hero. And that makes you want to deliver -to stand out by performing as well, to win titles, to live up to the expectations.

No more old India. Still the noise and the heat and the chaos, but now something impossible on top of it all. Still the stadiums jam-pack, but now the colour and contrast turned up again. Still the madness, but this time you're riding it, riding it. And that wave takes you to places, and those places take you to a whole new world . . .

I'm playing for Royal Challengers Bangalore , and we have a five-day break before our next match. What to do when you're footloose and fancy being free?

Team manager George Avinash strolls over with some chat. You heard of Goa?

You been to Goa? The boss has a place down there, the Kingfisher villa. He'd love you to go.

I'm having a few drinks with my teammates. There's AB de Villiers, Dan Vettori, Yuvraj Singh. Lots of talk, but you can tell there's some huffing and bluffing going on. 'Yeah, I'm definitely up for it, but I'll make a call in the morning.' Brunch the next day. 'Right guys, time to go.' And they back out. No one is going.

What to do? George pipes up again. 'Believe me, big man, you should definitely check it out.' Oh-kay . What could possibly go wrong? So I decide to go by myself. Fly down there, picked up in a sweet car and driven to Candolim, come down the driveway and whaaat?

It's bigger than most hotels. It's cooler than any house I've ever seen.

It's James Bond , it's Playboy Mansion, it's the land of plenty in white concrete and glass. I'm trying not to stare, but there's so much to stare at that there's only room in my mind for one thought: 'Chris, this gonna be interesting...' I've got the entire villa for myself. I'm getting a tour. Wherever I go I've got two butlers walking with me at all times. Me alone, like a king! I go in the first pool. I go in the second pool. I walk the lawn, in my robe. I go back in the pool with a Kingfisher beer and then I stay in the pool and the Kingfisher beers keep coming, which makes sense because the one place they're not going to run out of Kingfisher beers is in the Kingfisher villa.

I take a golf cart and drive around. The cook wants to know what I'd like to eat.

'What are the options?' `Anything you want.' 'Yeah man, but what's on the menu?' `There is no menu, sir. You are the menu.' This is new for World Boss. Seems there is World Boss and Universe Boss. Whole new worlds. Bosses of things the boy from 1C St James Road, Rollington Town, didn't even know existed. No milk and Nutribun, although if you wanted milk and Nutribun they'd bring it to you.

Into the villa's private movie theatre. Into the garage, so many cars, a Mercedes so big I can't even work out what it is. But it's not the cars that catch my eye, it's this big bike, three-wheeler, Harley-Davidson. And I get the story about how Vijay Mallya got the bike.

He's driving through the States, and he sees a guy riding it. He tells the guy he wants the bike. And he's the boss, the Mallya Boss. What he wants, he gets. So he asks the guy how much it would take to sell it, literally climb off it right there and give it to him, and the guy names his price, and Mallya counts out the bills and buys it. Has it shipped back to India, and then down to Goa and the villa.

So straight away I jump on this bike. I've never ridden a motorbike before. I've never seen a motorbike with three wheels. But one of the butlers shows me how to drive it, and I start riding it up and down the driveway, which because this is the Kingfisher villa is the size of a racetrack.

Brrrrm! I feel like the Terminator, screeching around with my shirt open and my shades down and nah, no helmet, because it's warm and it's a Harley and it's the Kingfisher villa and I'm the king of the villa, the Kingfisher king, and woohoo, who knew this thing could go that fast?

The butler signals. 'Does sir want to take it on the open road?' 'NO WAY!' 'Sir?' 'Nah! I ain't taking the chance. I'll just take it round the driveway one more time.' Pause.

'I will have a rum and Coke though, yeah? And the movie theatre -I can just pick any film I want, right?' Brrrrm! The butlers won't leave my side. I won't even finish my drink and the next one will be in my hand.

Every morning I wake up and they ask me what I'd like to do.

'Would sir like to ride an elephant?' 'You got an elephant here?' Now even Vijay Mallya doesn't own his own elephant.

But he's good friends with a man who does, so soon I'm riding an elephant, which has less of the speed of the Harley but all the same swagger.

I don't want to leave. I have to leave.

When I got back I told the guys all about it. Right after checking the tournament schedule for the next five-day gap.

The reaction: 'Oh shit . . .'

ON WOMEN...

You'll always have women out there who'll want to touch you, want to throw themselves at you. That's something you have to handle out there. You get honey traps in cricket too. As part of the game's regulations we have to attend anti-corruption lessons. They let us be aware that there are stings on the prettiest flowers. Not everything good be great, okay?

ON MAGIC NUMBERS

There was a time when one batsman scoring 100 in a T20 match seemed impossible. There was a time when 150 was out of reach. 175 didn't even make sense as a number to see on the scorecard. So believe me when I say a double century is a possibility.

ON HOW HE GOT HIS OWN STRIP CLUB...

How do you end up with a strip bar in your own house?

It's easier than you might imagine. I built my house from scratch up in the green hills high above Kingston, and there was nothing in the initial plans for a basement. Then the contractor said we shouldn't waste the space down below... Then I was in there one evening, and talking with friends in the decorating business...and a thought popped up: a nice little strip club could just fit in there...There was one issue. At the time I was doing it I didn't tell my girlfriend what was happening... And then she went down there one day to use the gym with her friend... I suppose I was expecting a reaction. It's a strip bar in your boyfriend's basement. Yet the two of them just sat there and carried on talking, as if they'd walked into a bathroom or the garage. Nothing. To this day she's never said anything about it. She's also never danced for me in there. I have no idea whether she likes it. I hope so. It's a great strip bar.

(Edited excerpts from ' Six Machine: I Don't Like Cricket...I Love It ' with permission from Penguin)

