My love and passion for cricket began on a March morning in
1994. For some strange reason my cricketing memory prior to ‘94 remains
woefully inadequate (barring Venkatpathy Raju getting run out in the ‘92 World Cup
match against Australia or that match where Gary Kristen’s brother was Mankaded
by Kapil Dev). It all changed that morning. Sachin Tendulkar opened the innings
for India against New Zealand. I had heard his name earlier; had perhaps even
seen him play. Yes he was the one who bowled the last over against South Africa
in the final of the Hero Cup. Heck, that was 20 years ago.
What followed was blitzkrieg. An attack so ferocious that
the Kiwis were numbed. Even my normally ‘I
don’t care a tiny rat’s ass about cricket’ father sat down and applauded
the young gun at work. My brother and I cheered our lungs out. What Tendulkar
did that morning changed the face of world cricket. What Tendulkar did was
bestow the nation with a new religion. And thus began the nation’s love affair
with a man who became bigger than the game.
The ‘96 world cup was jointly hosted by India, Srilanka and
Pakistan. And many felt, for the first time in many years that India had a good
chance of winning the cup. And we looked well on track with Sachin going hammer
and tongs in most of the matches. Then he got stumped by Kaluwitharana and the
nation’s dreams lay in tatters. And while the teary eyed Kambli might have believed
he could have won the match, but for the rest, the match was well over when
Sachin got out. He had got half of the total runs India had scored.
No one really cared till then about his records. As long as
he was at the crease anything was possible. No other player could create a
mixed bag of emotions in his admirers the way he did. Behind the admiration for
his dazzling and fearless strokeplay, always lingered the fear of him getting
out the next ball. His dismissal gave rise to both disappointment and relief.
Disappointment because the match was as good as lost. And relief because now we
could get on with our day to day work. It didn’t matter if the match was lost.
Sachin was not supposed to be out cheaply. As long as he scored, the nation
cheered.
1998 remains the third most wonderful year for Indian
cricket, the other two being the World Cup wins. We won almost every tournament
that year and Sachin scored in almost all of them. He scored a record 9
centuries that year. Perhaps that was the year we realised what lay in store
for his fans. The nation counted and cheered his every century. A strong sense
of pride surged through me when the newspaper carried the heading ‘21st Century Fox’. It was
the day after he had scored his 21st century against Zimbabwe and
won India yet another match. Not very long ago he had went past Desmond Haynes
when he scored his 18th century and a similar feeling had overwhelmed
me.
It was a weird fixation we had with the champion. He could
do no wrong. He was honest, selfless and a patriot. So when he was caught on
tape messing with the seam of the cricket ball, the entire world stood up for
him. The weirdest justification being that since Sachin had the habit of
chewing his nails there was no way he could have tampered with the ball. He was
too great a sportsman to do such a petty thing. Or match fixing for instance. It
was preposterous to think of him to be involved. But Azharuddin, Prabhakar, Jadeja
and Mongia weren’t shown any compassion. Neither by the Board nor by the public
in general.
It is amazing how the little man overshadowed other players,
some even better than him. A classic case being Vinod Kambli. A look at his
record and one can see that if it hadn’t been for his self- destructing
tendency he would have given Sachin a run for his money. A simple example is
the fact that it took Sachin 10 years for his first double ton in tests while Kambli
had smashed two double tons in his very first year of test cricket. The misfortune
was not reserved merely for Indian players. Foreign players too had to live
with the grudge of having played in the same era as the little master. The list
is endless. Jacques Kallis who has been the bulwark for South African cricket
ever since my memory serves me is currently sitting on 44 Test centuries as
compared to the 51 held by Tendulkar. But does he get the same adulation? Or Shivnarine
Chanderpaul. One of the most ungainly batsmen in world cricket but very very
effective nevertheless. He too holds a 50+ average and also has 10000+ runs in tests.
Ricky Ponting, Inzamam ul Haq, Jayawardene, Graeme smith, Steve Waugh, the list
is long. Closer home Ganguly, Dravid and VVS Laxman add to the list. Ganguly has
11000 + runs and 22 tons in ODIs. Dravid, perhaps the most technically sound
cricketer of modern times, too has an astounding test record. And not to
mention VVS who on his day is even better than Sachin Tendulkar.
So what sets this man
apart from the rest? What makes Andy flower quote ‘there are two kinds of batsmen. Sachin Tendulkar and the rest of us.’?
What quality makes him a God for millions? What makes him so special, when he
has so many times shown that after all he is a mere mortal with many chinks in
his armour? What made him a darling of the BCCI? What made them unable to ask
him to leave?
The man has played for 24 years. I was 6 when he made his
debut. I have grown up watching him. And like the countless many, I too have
copied his stance and his grip. I would even adjust my imaginary abdominal
guard the way he did.
Sachin Tendulkar stood for India. Every Indian saw himself
in Sachin. He was the relief to all their worries. He gave us the belief that
finally we had something to flaunt in front of the world. He was our pride. His
failures were our own. His achievements were ours. When a bowler sledged him it
was personal for us. When he was dragged into the ball tampering controversy it
was a question on our integrity. How can a single person who isn’t even
physically intimidating, hold so much control on a furious Eden Gardens crowd
whose main purpose was to burn down the stadium in victory and defeat?
We might never know the reason. But the truth remains that
with his retirement my childhood and youth have become just that – memories.
Memories of watching him bowl that last over in Hero Cup. Of him getting
stumped in the ‘96 World Cup semi final. Of him bludgeoning the Aussie attack
in Sharjah. Of him getting fiver against them in Cochin. Of him smashing the
straight six against Eddo Brandes to qualify for the finals. Of him getting his
10000th run against Aussies. Of that assault against McGrath in Nairobi.
Of his pulled six against Caddick in the 2003 World Cup. Of his foxing Moin Khan
with his googly. Of his mischievously pouring water on his team mates and
running away after the 2011 World Cup win. Of his being the first man to score
a double ton in ODIs. Of him being given a lap of honour on the strong
shoulders of Yusuf Pathan, Virat Kohli and Suresh Raina.
Some time later next month…
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