The Little Master

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. Three words, one name. One batting legend, the embodiment of one team. One man, the hope of a billion Indians.

20 odd years in the sport have been inadequate to dim this man’s enthusiasm and love for the sport and neither have they been enough to satiate his appetite for runs and excellence alike. Time magazine fittingly put it into context when they said ““It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar.”

Many words have been written about Sachin. Superlatives have been showered freely to the extent that new ones had to be invented because the older ones wouldn’t just measure up. Every time a shot was labelled ‘brilliant’ he responded with an even better one. Each time he was called a genius, he upped the ante. He made life difficult not only for bowlers but also for batsmen around the world. It wasn’t easy for his fans either. Each one of Sachin’s missed innings is an agony for them.

I was baptised late into cricket. Sachin had already started playing by then and therefore I missed out on his centuries against England and Australia. The earliest memory I have of Sachin is a headline that screamed “Boy Wonder does it again!”. I cant remember if it was a test match or an ODI, Tendulkar was apparently still a ‘boy’ in the team but a very popular and respected one. The first full series that I saw Tendulkar play in properly was India’s England tour of 1996 but the two people outshone him then were Dravid and Ganguly. I had to wait until the Newlands test match the following year to see his brilliance. He then followed it by unleashing his full repertoire of skills against Australia; at first in the test series at home against them and then at Sharjah. What followed after that is, as they say, history. Only, in his case, history repeats itself, over and over again.

Sachin has always been a diligent pupil of the game. His dedication and application are the foundation of his excellence. He is always learning and this enables him to get one up on the opposition. We have borne witness to many of his innovative shots. It has been 12 years since he came up with the paddle sweep and we are yet to find a single heir worthy of Sachin’s legacy. Other players have been proponents of the switch-hit and the Dil-scoop among others, but none make them look as elegant as Sachin does. Sehwag might have hit more upper cuts for a six but his attempts are brutal bludgeons compared to Tendulkar’s artistic masterpieces. There is timeless quality about them.

Sachin’s has just turned 37 years old. For many sportsmen, even cricketers, it is a point of retirement. Most of them hang up their sporting shoes and start preparing for the over-40s tournaments. Some become expert commentators, some start coaching or get into administrative posts in the sport and some others live the family life. Sachin clearly doesn’t believe in following that example. For him Time, not only seems to have frozen but is now going into reverse. He is young once again and as hungry for runs as he was 20 years ago. Time too wants to see him carry on until Time itself gets old and comes to an end.

The man is a legend. In the years to come, legend will give rise to myth and myth to divinity.

For many of us, time, age and dementia might rob us of our most precious memories. One of them will linger though; the joy of watching Sachin playing a perfectly straight-bat drive past the bowler. He wouldn't have aged a day.

“We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will.”