Twenty Years of Tendulkar

Sachin completed 20 years as an international cricketer recently. It deserves a salute, a prayer and gratitude. I wonder often, what could be termed as Tendulkar's calling card. It's not pure ability (Sehwag and Lara surpass him), neither is it grace (Ganguly and Laxman) nor is it stoic longevity (Waugh and Dravid). Why then has this Mumbai batsman has been regarded as the greatest modern batsman ever ?

Perhaps to answer that question, one needs to put it in context of what his exploits meant to a generation of Indians. I grew up without a world cup exploit to talk about, or a No. 1 test ranking to boast about. In the decade of the nineties, my sole link to the Indian team was Sachin - the epitome of excellence in batsmanship. I guess it also has a lot to do with the person within. Perhaps Rahul Dravid comes close - but the gravitas that Tendulkar the person brings to an occassion is unrivalled.

When Tendulkar was young and rising, we had no multi-crore sponsorships, no IPL. It was a different time. India itself was confused - what was our identity ? Would we, as a nation, succeed or fail ? The economic riches that some of see today were just a glorious tapestry then. We weren't aggressive, we weren't brash, we didn't slap team-mates and never were we accused of racism. Unfortunately, neither did we win.

But my memories of the 90s is defined by Tendulkar's achievements. The century at Perth, the marvellous 169 in South Africa, Chennai the lost cause, The Desert Storm at Sharjah. They inspired. They told of talent harnessed to achieve perfection. They told of one man against everyone. Tendulkar's achievement at this time was to show us the infinity of possibilities. Perhaps, as he became older, this also became the albatross around his neck. He grew up, his fans didn't.

Tendulkar at the crease caused us to devote attention. This was not a case of mind-numbing stonewalling, neither was it a case of unabashed swinging. With Tendulkar, you knew it would be a battle of wits. He had the technique to match the best of them. But perhaps Tendulkar realized that technique for technique's sake is useless. It has to be applied to score runs - that was his dharma as a batsman. And that made all the difference. Each delivery was analyzed carefully, field placements noted, angles calculated before that club of a bat came down like a bludgeon.

Tendulkar, together with Dravid, is the last link to an earlier generation. There is no show of strength but humility in his achievements. Behind that helmet, also rests a thoughtful brain. My dad just cannot relate to the Indian cricket team without Tendulkar and neither can I. But when Tendulkar does talk, the audience listens. As the Aussie coach found out earlier.

With the swagger of a few lusty hits, the joy of a few undeserved wickets, some of the players have the gall to call him grandpa. They forget that this Grandpa, just crashed a majestic 175 against Australia recently. Why Tendulkar failed as a leader and a captain will always remain a mystery to me. I suspect there was more going on behind the scenes than meets the eye. Perhaps it just wasn't in him - the cheeky tendlya just couldn't lead the masses.

How will history remember him ? Perhaps as a fine product of Bombay Batsmanship. A thorough gentleman in a rapidly changing milieu. A thinker and a genius. A fighter, worn down by responsibility in his best years. A star reborn as part of a winning team. An underrated bowler. A beacon of hope for a generation past. A monument to greatness for a generation to come.

Thanks for the memories, Sachin.