We remember not the scores and the results in after years; it is the men who remain in our minds, in our imagination. – Nevile CardusThe boy, the man, the master, the legend and finally THE GOD (notice that I have used definite article ‘THE’ for God too) was how he was addressed all along over the last 2 decades. If there was a tradition of beatification in cricket no one better would qualify to be conferred the sainthood other than SACHIN RAMESH TENDULKAR.
I never wanted to write a tribute on him ever since he had overstayed his welcome over the last few years, but then, why not, he has taken the liberty to do so in the last couple of years after we took the liberty to venerate him for 2 decades prior to that. Fair enough I thought.
Writing a piece on a cricketer is a tall ask and greatly depends on, the on and off field personality of the particular individual. For example a piece on Rahul Dravid will evoke Poetry, while the one on Laxman will be tailored Prose and the one on Dada Saurav Ganguly might be in the lines of a Bollywood blockbuster screenplay. Mind you, all the above people and the associated emotions were part of the Sachin saga for a considerable period of those 24 years, just that you had to write an epic and epics don’t sell in this era of messaging, tweeting, poking and posting.
While a piece on Sachin is any day a number crunching statistician’s delight, I don’t intend to take that route going by what the great Sir Nevile Cardus said , It is the man that should remain in our minds and imaginations not his scores or the results. I can assure you that no one better than the ones belonging to the same peer group can do justice to this quote. Yours truly is also from the same period as all the above legendary cricketers, the only difference being I wished too like them to retire at 40 but that never was to be, for obvious reasons.
We grew up together if I can take the liberty to say so. Just that he grew and grew while we grew. I was 17 when Sachin made his debut in the winter of ’89, to be precise this day the 15th of November circa 1989, and you can imagine the dilemma of a passionate cricket loving fan in the erstwhile Madras at the age of 17 just 4 months away from that one all important exam in life that determined whether you made it to an A grade or a B grade Engineering college and nothing else. There comes along a boy just about your age making a statement that he has arrived on the world scene. Can be intimidating when, after work sheet after work sheet of solving calculus or deciphering the bonding in Organic Chemistry you still didn’t know what lies ahead of you in the next 6 months.
His stay at the crease over the last 24 years has caused many a marital discord at home, mother-son conflicts were plenty, production efficiencies were affected across companies, folks missed trains or flights, candidates arrived late for interviews that changed careers. So these could be blemishes when it comes to considering his credentials before ordaining sainthood on him. There were times he not only controlled the emotions of a billion plus people but also controlled their bowel movements and their bladder functioning. There were days when you were hesitant to take time off when he was playing to relieve yourself for the fear of missing out on an exquisite cover drive.
One thing that sets him apart from the many greats, some even more talented than him, was his self-discipline at his chosen profession and in his personal life. It wasn’t the technique, it wasn’t skill it was sheer discipline coupled with some in born talent that got him to where he reached. Talking about discipline I would like to go back to the much written about series in which he abstained from playing the fatal cover drive that had accounted for his downfall many a times just prior to that particular one. This abstinence by Sachin from cover drives even when a half volley was bowled outside the off stump put him on an orbit above sage Vishwamitra who faltered in his attempt at asceticism at the sight of Menaka. Probably that’s when I guess people started calling him God.
Being served brickbats and bouquets at regular intervals are the order of the day for any sportsperson in India more so for a cricketer, the blame should be squarely on us, the fans. As I am writing this I get a viral tweet that Sachin’s total test runs prior to the 200th test match were 15,847 which happened to be India’s Independence Day. Wonder how much more fanatic can a fan get! The same fans would have thought twice before mentioning this esoteric statistic had he fallen exactly 1000 runs short. We are not a sporting nation nor are we a sportive nation. We create them, we deify them and we banish them almost at ease. Sachin’s experience has not been any different from the rest before him nor is it going to be any better for those who are going to come after him, but the man had his head pretty square and rose above it all like a colossus ending his career blemish less.
Well recently when asked what cricket meant to him he said it was like oxygen to him, sure it was, he came at a time when Indian cricket was almost in an ICU and he kept supplying oxygen cylinders ever since. Thank you Sachin for the lovely moments and sorry for baying for your blood the last two years, after all we are just mortal Indian cricket fans. We are like that only!!!
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