My tryst with Tendulkar - 14 years of joy

So the dreaded day has come and gone. Tributes have been authored, paeans have been composed, tears have been shed. Legends have been queuing up to wax eloquent about his/her favorite Sachin Tendulkar memory. The man himself has delivered a heart-rending account of his '24 years between 22 yards'. Generally, most legends have an air of aloofness about them; they seem distant, almost haughty. However, with Tendulkar, there is no aura, no mystique. He, simply, is a part of our lives as much as cricket is a part of his. For twenty-four memorable years, he enriched the nation's lives; and I was there for eighteen of those. Unfortunately, I wasn't much of a cricket fan in my early years, and I missed what is claimed by many to be his finest years (although repeat telecasts have softened that blow somewhat). Yet, here is my attempt at an account of my tryst with Tendulkar:

2001: The initial impressions

After completing 10,000 ODI runs

It's funny how I don't actually have a first memory of Sachin. He was always there; when Indians talked about cricket, they talked about Tendulkar. My first real Tendulkar memory, however, is the sight of him stroking Shane Warne through the covers for a single, reaching 10000 ODI runs. It wasn't the first time I was watching him bat, not by a long way. But that moment has stayed with me for the conversation that followed - 

"Why are the crowds standing up?", I asked my brother, who is elder to me by five years.

"Sachin reached 10000 runs." 

"So?" 

"He's the first cricketer ever to do so."

"Of course Sachin will be the first one."

And there it was. A young child of six, without any prerequisite knowledge of the game, had just accepted that Sachin was the chosen one. A few months later, the ball tampering controversy broke out. I remember watching Sportscenter, where they were teaching the dummies what ball tampering was. The entire concept sounded suspiciously like cheating to me. "Sachin can't cheat", I thought. "Mike Denness is wrong", I said, to no one in particular.

2002: Making a place in my heart

Sachin plays an upper cut, as only he can

Cricket was a topic that was intensely discussed in my family. On one such occasion, I remember one of my cousins asking me who my favorite cricketer was. Sachin Tendulkar, I said, without any hesitation; not because I knew he was the best, but because it was impressed upon me that he was. The choice came to me automatically, almost intrinsically. 2002, however, witnessed the emergence of a certain Rahul Dravid as a mainstay in the Indian line-up. My brother absolutely fawned over him. The pair of Sourav Ganguly and Rahul Dravid was his favorite in world cricket. Probably because it was hip not to choose Tendulkar, but mostly because he just wanted to antagonize me. And Dravid's stupendous show in the England tour that year added to his legend. But for me, that tour was marked only by Tendulkar's buccaneering 193 in Headingley, and especially his assault in the last session of Day Two. The year was also special for that Natwest final. When Sachin was out bowled on 14, the television set was switched off (although I was the only one at home saying we still had a chance). Fifteen minutes later, after much criticism, it was switched on again. After an hour or so, the anguish of the Tendulkar failure was replaced by the euphoria of India chasing down 325. The image of Ganguly waving his jersey in the Lords dressing room is still embellished in the minds of everyone who saw the match. Heady days indeed.

2003: The legend in my mind

That pull

2003 brought with itself the ICC Cricket World Cup in South Africa. It was preceded by a tour to New Zealand, but that was largely forgettable, except for the occasional Sehwag blitzkrieg. Tendulkar was the top-scorer in first four matches, and had scored a masterful 152 against Namibia. But the matches to follow were the ones that created the most significant impression on me. In the match against England, Nehra bowled what went down as his finest spell in international cricket. But the moment that stayed with me was Tendulkar's pull of Caddick, that had flown out of the ground. I tried my best to imitate that one shot, and used to request my brother to bowl short balls just so I could hit at least one delivery in that fashion. After several failed attempts, I managed to hit one out of my compound into the adjacent building. "Caddick wala pull hota to", I beamed. Tendulkar's pull had gone out of Kingsmead. My pull had barely gone higher than the first storey. But to me, both were much the same.

Then came that match against Pakistan. So much has been written about that one uppercut, but as much as I enjoyed it, it was a pale shadow of the pristine straight drive that followed in the same over. The uppercut was nothing but a slash at a pretty average delivery, but the drive was a statement against a perfectly good ball. One which had been delivered at 96 miles per hour. That match did more than give India a victory. It imprinted cricket, and with it, Tendulkar, firmly into my consciousness. Till then, I'd only said Sachin was my favorite cricketer. After that match, I believed that he was.

The rest of the World Cup is a bit of a blur. Statistics tell me that he scored another 97 against Sri Lanka, and of course, India had that horrific final, but the zenith had been reached against Pakistan. Tendulkar subsequently won the Player of the Tournament award, but you could sense it in his eyes that he would gladly exchange it for the World Cup medal.

2004: Overseas successes

After his monumental 241*

The year concluded with the Border - Gavaskar series in Australia. In the first match, Tendulkar received a shocker from Steve Bucknor, and seemed to be drawn into a vortex of unlucky dismissals. Dravid, meanwhile, had hit a patch so purple it made a plum look pale, which, coupled with Ganguly's 144 in Brisbane, meant that my brother had become pretty much intolerable. By the time the Test in Melbourne was done, Sehwag, Dravid, Ganguly and Laxman had all made significant contributions, but Tendulkar was nowhere to be seen (Akash Chopra has been discounted here as he was never expected to dazzle, but in all fairness, even he did his job sufficiently well). Before the Sydney Test, there was an outpouring of support for Tendulkar, with Ganguly himself saying that a series couldn't go by without Sachin leaving his mark on it, but my hopes weren't high. When he walked out in Sydney, it was being whispered that this might be his last Test in Australia as he would be 36 during India's next scheduled tour. I had almost resigned to the fact that the tour, albeit an incredibly successful one from India's point of view, would be a mediocre one for Sachin. But then he played, according to me, the innings of his life. By not playing the cover drive for over 10 hours, he scored a magnificent, unbeaten 241, but more importantly, proved that even the greatest have to grind it out sometimes. May be, just may be, Ganguly knew a little more about Tendulkar's abilities than I did.

The tour of Pakistan was hyped up to insane levels by the media. It was well over a decade since India had last toured the country, and its recent successes in the game had meant that for the first time, India was crossing the border as favorites. The ODI series lived up to the hype, with India narrowly edging the run-fest 3-2. That series will forever be remembered by me for Sachin's leaping catch on the boundary that dismissed Inzamam-ul-Haq, and possibly sealed the series for India. The Test series began with Sehwag's 309. Sachin had scored 194* in the same game, but for the first time in my memory, he was playing second fiddle to his batting partner. The unexpected declaration had created a massive furore, but Sachin was expectedly dignified about the whole issue. India went on to win that series, and things were looking good for the sport in the country.

But then, Australia arrived on the Indian shores in October to conquer their so-called 'final frontier'. And conquer they did! The final scoreline was 2-1, but India was thoroughly outclassed in the series, not least because Tendulkar was out injured for the first two Tests. Tendulkar returned to scoring big runs in Mumbai, where India finally won a match on a rank turner and saved some pride.

The year ended with India's tour of Bangladesh, and Tendulkar made little work of the minnows, scoring 248* (his highest score in first-class cricket) in the process.

2005: The injuries commence

Gesturing towards his increasingly troublesome elbow

This year saw a few Tendulkar highlights - a run-filled series against Pakistan (one hundreds, and several crucial fifties), and of course, he went past Sunil Gavaskar's record of 35 Test centuries. But for a majority of the year, he was out injured, initially with a shoulder injury, and then with the tennis elbow one. 2005 was also the year when Greg Chappell took over as Coach after John Wright resigned from the job, so there were changes abound in the Indian team. 'Youth' was the new buzzword as the new Coach was intent on giving the newer batch a longer run in the national team, and you could sense the senior players becoming increasingly uncertain of their place in the team. Things reached a boiling point in Zimbabwe, where Ganguly said that someone in the team management had advised him to drop himself as he didn't merit a place in the XI anymore. Although Ganguly responded with a ton, the scars of that incident would remain, eventually culminating in the selectors dropping Ganguly from both the Test and ODI team. I remember saying to anyone that would listen that India was missing Tendulkar's calming influence in the team.

Tendulkar would eventually return to play a series against Sri Lanka in December. He scored a few fifties in the one-dayers, but those matches would be remembered more for Irfan Pathan's repeated promotions to number three. Irfan was being touted as the next great Indian all-rounder after Kapil Dev (and we all know how well that one worked out). Sachin would also play a three Test match series in December against the same opponent. It was in the second Test in Delhi that he scored his 35th Test ton. This Test was also memorable, because it was the first time I had seen a cricket match being paused because of fireworks (which had been set off the moment Sachin reached his hundred).

However, that Sachin was like an apparition of the previous version, a Sachin which believed more in sustenance than domination. The changes he made were reflected in my own game (which still was limited to my backyard). I became stodgier in defense, putting a higher price on my wicket. Runs soon became secondary to me, staying not out was the primary aim. That backfired on me though, as my fellow players began calling me 'Dravid' for my defensive strokes, to my utter dismay. However, the very same people told my brother that he had a stance like Tendulkar, so I wasn't the only disappointed one in my family.

2006: Injuries abound, runs abate

Turbulent times: With Greg Chappell

The injuries seemed to be taking a toll on Sachin as the flow of runs ebbed, especially in Tests. It was increasingly becoming tougher for him to stay for longer periods in Tests. This was also a tumultuous year for Ganguly, as he was dropped. Rahul Dravid replaced him as captain. Sachin himself went by without a single Test century in 2006. Critics were now baying for his blood - Ian Chappell wrote an article condemning Tendulkar for carrying on well past his sell-by date, the Times of India famously wrote an article titled 'Endulkar', saying it was time to move on without the great man. However, the next year was a World Cup year, which ensured that the focus remained on ODI's, at least for the time being. Under Chappell and Dravid, India had become something of a chasing machine in ODI's, even posting a 16-game unbeaten streak while chasing. In the process of 'experimentation', Sachin moved down to number four in the ODI's as well. However, that seemed to have no effect on his ODI form as he kept on scoring aplenty in the one-day format.

2006 was also the year when I accepted that I could never bat like Sachin, after years of trying to emulate him. That realization struck me when I was bowled for the umpteenth time trying to hit that straight drive which he had so perfected. Each time I tried it, I was either bowled or caught out. So, like Sachin's cover drive in Sydney, I banished the shot altogether. I may not have been able to bat like Sachin, but at least, I could adopt his mindset. It was also a sign that I was growing up, that I no longer lived in a fantasy land where I could do everything that my role models could. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one. Somewhere, we all grew up with this man.

2007 (Part One): End of a journey?

Never again?

The year 2007 was supposed to be all about the World Cup in West Indies. For preparation, West Indies came over to India for a four-match ODI series. The one match that has stayed with me from that series is the last match, where Tendulkar scored an unbeaten 100 off just 76 balls. Coming in at two-down, Tendulkar looked in imperious touch as he took apart the West Indian attack. I intently watched every ball of his innings, disregarding the fact that my High School Scholarship examination was to be held the next day (one of the many occasions where a Tendulkar innings was deemed to be more important than everything else). India won both its series against West Indies and Sri Lanka, and there was a sense of optimism as we approached the World Cup. Given India's exploits in the previous edition, it was regarded as one of the favorites to clinch the trophy. There was also an unspoken emotion - that of desperation. It was believed that this would be the last chance for Sachin, Sourav and Rahul to finally win the coveted trophy, and the country dearly wanted to give its a legends an appropriate send-off. However, the campaign began disastrously, with India losing to Bangladesh in its opening match. India then thrashed Bermuda, with Sachin scoring a sublime 57* off 29 balls, but Sri Lanka proved too strong for the team. Tendulkar himself was out for a duck in the last match, bowled by Dilhara Fernando.

"So this is how it ends", said my father, "That's it. Sachin will never win a World Cup."
"It's over. Sachin will retire now", said my brother.
"No, he won't. He'll come back.", I told them.

One of us was right.

Note: PART I of 'The Tendulkar Trilogy - the man, the legend, the experience' concludes here. Stay tuned for the second installment.