Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Tendulkar's glory untouched by fame || Harsha Bhogle
Tendulkar has given an adoring nation everything it has asked for and still managed to keep his game and his ambitions pure
Sachin Tendulkar sugar-coated the recent reality of India and gave its people something to cheer about. It is not easy to possess the mandate to lift the spirits of such a large nation, but he has done that consistently. The comparison with Sir Donald Bradman is not restricted to his batting alone. Like the great man who brought cheer to post-war Australia, Tendulkar allowed India to momentarily forget fires and bombs and inflation and terrorist threats. It was like that with the century he made after England so graciously agreed to tour after the 26/11 attacks in Mumbai. It has been like that for a long time. For better or worse cricket is more than a sport in India; Tendulkar is more than just a cricketer. Where our elected representatives callously fritter away the mandate people give them, Tendulkar has stayed true to it.
And he has never forgotten why he started playing the game in the first place. The best have lofty ambitions when they begin but soon commerce, like a tenacious worm, gnaws into them. Fame surrounds them and prevents the fresh air of reason from breaking through. They acquire sycophants, that great curse of success. Playing the game becomes a means to a seemingly superior, but in reality hollower, end. Tendulkar has kept those demons at bay. He has made more money than anyone else in the game, acquired greater fame than is imaginable, but you could never guess that from the way he plays his cricket. He remains the servant, pursues the game with purity. Through the last decade India have been well-served by like-minded giants.
And he works as hard as anybody has. Lance Armstrong once said that he wins the Tour de France not when he is cycling down the Champs Elysees but when he is out in the mountains facing icy winds while others are cosying in their blankets for an extra hour. Two years ago Tendulkar realised that his future lay in the way his body coped; that eventually his body rather than a bowler would get him. During the first IPL, as he struggled with a groin injury, he admitted that he found continuous rehab very difficult to live with. Once fit, he was like the child again, able to do what he wanted without worrying about whether his body was accomplice or traitor. And so he trained harder and rested well. You could see the effect as he scampered between wickets. Tendulkar's delightful second wind is the result of what you and I have not seen: hours in the gym and in training.
As a result, Tendulkar's endgame is nowhere in sight. He is peeling off centuries like he did in his prime. The old air of predictability is still around; he is grinding his way through when needed, clobbering the ball when required. In this extraordinary long-distance race he is running, this looks like a mid-race burst rather than the finishing kick his age suggests it should be.
As a result, Tendulkar's endgame is nowhere in sight. He is peeling off centuries like he did in his prime. The old air of predictability is still around; he is grinding his way through when needed, clobbering the ball when required. In this extraordinary long-distance race he is running, this looks like a mid-race burst rather than the finishing kick his age suggests it should be.
Sachin Tendulkar sugar-coated the recent reality of India and gave its people something to cheer about. It is not easy to possess the mandate to lift the spirits of such a large nation, but he has done that consistently. The comparison with Sir Donald Bradman is not restricted to his batting alone. Like the great man who brought cheer to post-war Australia, Tendulkar allowed India to momentarily forget fires and bombs and inflation and terrorist threats. It was like that with the century he made after England so graciously agreed to tour after the 26/11 attacks in Mumbai. It has been like that for a long time. For better or worse cricket is more than a sport in India; Tendulkar is more than just a cricketer. Where our elected representatives callously fritter away the mandate people give them, Tendulkar has stayed true to it.
And he has never forgotten why he started playing the game in the first place. The best have lofty ambitions when they begin but soon commerce, like a tenacious worm, gnaws into them. Fame surrounds them and prevents the fresh air of reason from breaking through. They acquire sycophants, that great curse of success. Playing the game becomes a means to a seemingly superior, but in reality hollower, end. Tendulkar has kept those demons at bay. He has made more money than anyone else in the game, acquired greater fame than is imaginable, but you could never guess that from the way he plays his cricket. He remains the servant, pursues the game with purity. Through the last decade India have been well-served by like-minded giants.
And he works as hard as anybody has. Lance Armstrong once said that he wins the Tour de France not when he is cycling down the Champs Elysees but when he is out in the mountains facing icy winds while others are cosying in their blankets for an extra hour. Two years ago Tendulkar realised that his future lay in the way his body coped; that eventually his body rather than a bowler would get him. During the first IPL, as he struggled with a groin injury, he admitted that he found continuous rehab very difficult to live with. Once fit, he was like the child again, able to do what he wanted without worrying about whether his body was accomplice or traitor. And so he trained harder and rested well. You could see the effect as he scampered between wickets. Tendulkar's delightful second wind is the result of what you and I have not seen: hours in the gym and in training.
As a result, Tendulkar's endgame is nowhere in sight. He is peeling off centuries like he did in his prime. The old air of predictability is still around; he is grinding his way through when needed, clobbering the ball when required. In this extraordinary long-distance race he is running, this looks like a mid-race burst rather than the finishing kick his age suggests it should be.
As a result, Tendulkar's endgame is nowhere in sight. He is peeling off centuries like he did in his prime. The old air of predictability is still around; he is grinding his way through when needed, clobbering the ball when required. In this extraordinary long-distance race he is running, this looks like a mid-race burst rather than the finishing kick his age suggests it should be.
So why has no one else scored a double-century in limited-overs cricket so far? Well, because it is very difficult for a start. Assuming 300 balls, you should expect to get no more than 150, which means you need to bat at a strike-rate of 133. You need to be mentally alert, because one casual shot, one moment of disrespect, could be your undoing. But, let's admit, the combination of pitches, outfields and boundary ropes has rarely tilted the balance so much in the batsman's favour. In Gwalior the groundsman told one half of the class they were not wanted. The bowlers were the extras in a movie, seeking, at best, a talking part. The stage had been prepared for Tendulkar but he still had to deliver an unforgettable performance.
Inevitably the question will be asked: what next? I know there is only one thing he genuinely covets, and that is not in his hands. In 12 months Tendulkar hopes to play his sixth and last World Cup. So far his relationship with the World Cup has been like that of a child who scurries to the rossogulla shop only to find it shut every time. If he was a golfer seeking a Masters win or a tennis player hoping to win another Grand Slam, he could plan for it but he doesn't hold the key to a win in a team sport. It must happen, he cannot make it happen. But what else? Frankly, I don't care.
Tendulkar's journey is about joy and purity and a landmark is merely a comfort stop.
The Sachin I know || Harsh Bhogle
Tendulkar has found the urge, and the solutions, to be able to play for 20 years. That is a landmark to be celebrated
I approached him hesitantly, I couldn't see his eyes because they were shrouded by these huge dark glasses, probably the only time they were used to cover rather than to adorn, for he had just lost his father. I asked him if he would talk to us about coming back to play. He nodded his head and only briefly took the glasses off. His eyes were red and swollen; you could see he had been crying copiously. For the interview he put them on, and once the camera had stopped rolling, admitted he didn't want to return, that his mind was all over the place, that he felt anchorless. It was the only time he didn't want to play for India but he had been forced back by his family, aware that only cricket could help him overcome his grief. When he got a hundred the next day and looked heavenwards, some other eyes were moist. Even in his grief there was resolve, for he wanted that century. It might only have been Kenya but he was battling himself, not the bowlers.
Four years later he agreed to do an interview for a series of programmes I was then doing. Our producer thought we would make it special, and to our surprise and joy, Amitabh Bachchan agreed to introduce the programme. In the first break Sachin whispered, "That was a beautiful surprise." Little did he know there was more to come.
Sachin Tendulkar may have inspired others to write poetry but he batted in robust prose. Not for him the tenderness and fragility of the poet, the excitement of a leaf fluttering in a gentle breeze. No. Tendulkar is about a plantation standing up to the typhoon, the skyscraper that stands tall, the cannon that booms. Solid. Robust. Focused. The last word is the key. He loves the game deeply but without the eccentricities of the romantic. There is a match to be won at all times.
But Tendulkar too was a sapling once. And his brother Ajit sheltered him from the gale, kept him focused. Sachin looked after his cricket, Ajit looked after Sachin. Twenty-two years ago, I was asked by Sportsworld to do an article on this extraordinary schoolboy. It wasn't Sachin I had to speak to, it was Ajit. When the time for the interview came, at Ramakant Achrekar's net in Shivaji Park, Ajit was there with a cyclostyled copy of Sachin's scores. And Achrekar admonished me for spoiling his child, for fear that Sachin would get distracted.
The interview was done. Sachin was neither overwhelmed nor garrulous; indeed he was so limited with his words that you had to hold on to every one of them. It was sent to Sportsworld in Calcutta by courier (or was it just put into a normal post box?) and then came a request for two photographs. Again it was Ajit who produced them. When I got the cheque, I noticed they had paid me an extra 100 rupees for the photographs. They weren't mine but Sportsworld had a policy of paying for them and so I wrote out a cheque to Ajit for Rs 100. It was acknowledged and accepted gratefully. We lived in different times then!
It was also my first realisation that young men in the public eye needed to be sheltered so they could focus on playing cricket; that they needed an elder brother, or an equivalent, to put a gentle hand on the shoulder and, occasionally, lay one the back side. A lot of other young men today see Tendulkar's runs, eye his wealth, but their brattishness comes in the way of noticing his work ethic. For Tendulkar's life is not the story of extraordinary ability but of an extraordinary work ethic.
Twelve years later, on a cold evening in Bristol, preparing for a World Cup game against Kenya the next day, I saw him in dark glasses, fiddling around with his kit. Aimlessly, like he was searching for something to do. At most times he would be bounding around with energy, bowling off 18 yards, taking catches, shouting thoughts to other batsmen.
Four years later he agreed to do an interview for a series of programmes I was then doing. Our producer thought we would make it special, and to our surprise and joy, Amitabh Bachchan agreed to introduce the programme. In the first break Sachin whispered, "That was a beautiful surprise." Little did he know there was more to come.
Sometime earlier he had told me he was a big fan of Mark Knopfler and we thought it would be great if we could get the great Dire Straits man to talk to us.
"I'm recording all night but immediately after that, before I fall asleep," Knopfler said, and somehow we persuaded Sachin to do the programme in the afternoon rather than in the morning. And when the moment came, we patched the line on and when I said, "Hello Mark," Sachin looked puzzled. A minute later his eyes lit up when he realised which Mark we had on the line. And then he was like a child, tongue-tied, fidgety, excited - much like most people are when they first meet Tendulkar. Even the stars can get starry-eyed!
And there have been moments of surprising candour. When asked, as batsmen tend to be, which bowlers had troubled him the most, he smiled an almost embarrassed smile and said, "You won't believe this." When probed, he said, "Pedro Collins and Hansie Cronje."
"In fact," he said, "I once told my partner 'Will you please take Hansie for me? I don't mind playing Allan Donald'"
Tendulkar's batting has been much chronicled over the years. Indeed, I believe he has been the most analysed cricketer in the history of the game. Yet he has found the urge, and indeed the solutions, to play on for 20 years. Now that is a landmark to be celebrated, not the many inconsequential others that we exploit for our own need. It has been fantastic having a ringside view of this journey, watching a cricketer, and a person, grow. But one thing hasn't changed. He still approaches every game like a child would a bar of chocolate, feeling happy and fortunate.
Read the Sportsworld article from 1988 here
Two of a kind || 20 years: A journey to immortality Sachin Tendulkar and Ryan Giggs
The world of sport is such that it is ever changing. Everyday there is a new face on the block. A new face hoping to make it big someday. Some do make it while the others dont.Some achieve greatness instantly, while some have to struggle to achieve it. The more time you spend in the game the more difficult it becomes to sustain one’s performance. Thats the reason why of all the great players that were and are there currently in the world of cricket and football, two of them stand out.Sachin Tendulkar and Ryan Giggs. Their journey and careers have been quite similar. Both of them were child prodigies. They both started their careers almost at the same time. Their rise through the ranks was identical. So was the blip in their careers and their comebacks too. Both of them are now in the final phases of their careers. What they have achieved is quite phenomenal. Lets have a look...
Sachin Tendulkar: Although Tendulkar was already looked at as a child prodigy in school, the year 1988 was what did it for him. A century in each of his innings in 1988, a 664 run partnership with Vinod Kambli and a net session in which he faced the great Kapil Dev. These were enough to give him his first tour to Pakistan.
Ryan Giggs: “If you lose him you will regret him.” These were the exact words that made Sir Alex Ferguson notice the 13 year old Ryan Giggs. Giggs even scored a hattrick against a United side unaware of the fact that Sir Alex was watching him from his window. A trial followed and Sir Alex ended up at the Giggs doorstep with a contract in hand.
First Decade
Sachin Tendulkar: In his first tour to Pakistan he had an outstanding innings in a 20 over exhibition match. On his third tour to England he became the second youngest cricketer to score a Test century when he scored 119 at Old Trafford. 2 more centuries followed against Australia, that too in difficult conditions. Although he was doing well in tests, a century in an ODI still eluded him. He had to wait for 4 years and 79 ODI’s to get his first century. Tendulkar began to rise within the Indian cricket setup. 1996 opened the floodgates of success for the little master. First of all he finished the leading run scorer at the 1996 world cup. What followed was Australia’s tour to India in which he got 3 centuries to his name. During the 1999 world cup, he had to return home due to his father’s demise but returned back to score yet another century which he dedicated to his father.
The next 2 3 seasons he became one of United’s key players helping United win their first title in 26 years and also the double the following season. The team around him was changing as old faces were being replaced by newer ones. By the end of the 1995 season, the Fergie Fledlings had replaced the likes of Ince and Hughes.It was now time for Giggs to make his mark in Europe, as he helped United reach the European Cup semi-finals in 1996.
1999 was a big season for United and Giggs. He scored one of the greatest goals ever scored in FA Cup history against Arsenal. He scored the equaliser against Juventus in the Champions League semi-finals. To top it, he set up the equaliser in the final against Bayern Munich. Later that year, he was also awarded the Man of the Match award in the Intercontinental Cup final. 4 fruitful seasons followed where Giggs was pivotal in United’s success. When Denis Irwin departed in 2001, he became United’s longest serving player. At the start of the 2001 season, Giggs completed his first decade at Old Trafford.
Second Decade
Sachin Tendulkar: Tendulkar continued with good performances in 2001 and 2002. However the next 4 5 years were dominated by injuries. Although he had another great World Cup in 2003, he spent almost the whole of 2004 outside the game due to his tennis elbow problem. He was booed at for the first time in his career in 2006 and with a shoulder operation on cards, things were not looking that good for Tendulkar. Although many critics believed his career was sliding down, he announced his comeback with his 40th ODI hundred against West Indies. 2007 was a year shrowded with controversy as differences between him and coach Greg Chappell became public. The result was a dismal World Cup campaign, not only for him but for India too. He had another good tour against Australia in 2007. The next year he broke the record for most runs in test cricket, a record previously held by Brian Lara. The last few years has seen Tendulkar perform consistently for Team India. Although greats like Ganguly and Dravid have slowly been phased out, his place in the squad remains fixed.
Ryan Giggs: The next 4-5 seasons were quiet compared to Ryan Giggs standard. Having started out as a winger for United, Sir Alex started playing him in a central role in midfield. In the Champions League final, Giggs broke Bobby Charlton’s appearance record coming on for the 759th time. At the start of the 2008 season many thought that Giggs’s prime was over. But the last two seasons he has played as well as he has ever played in his career. Although he just started 12 games last season for United, Ryan Giggs was named the PFA Player of the Year for the first time in his career. This season too his performances for United have been breath taking. No one will say he is 36 year old. Just this week he signed a new contract that will keep him at Old Trafford till 2011.
Sportsmen are not supposed to get better at the end of their careers, but nobody told Ryan Giggs and Sachin Tendulkar. In sport, old age starts in the mid-30s. This is when the eyes slow, the waistline thickens, the knees rebel against all that twisting and turning, and the hotels and airports begin to pall. In the major outdoor sports, only a golfer or a goalie can expect to stay at the top of his game through his 30s. But somehow two 37-year-olds are among today’s leading sportsmen, trading not on reputation but on recent form. Ryan Giggs, recently voted Manchester United’s greatest player of all ahead of George Best, has again been one of the most influential figures in club football, steering United back to the top of the Premiership. Sachin Tendulkar, already installed as one of cricket’s all-time greats, was the best batsman of 2010, keeping India at the top of the Test rankings with a string of centuries. Both men were born in 1973, and have stayed at the top for 20 years while careers in general have been getting shorter. How have they done it?
Fitness: Keeping fit is the first duty of a sportsman. A winger like Giggs would normally be creaking at 30, fading at 32, strolling about in a lower division at 34, and spouting platitudes in a commentary box at 36. Giggs has bucked the trend by devoting his afternoons to an activity many footballers might sneer at: yoga.
Batting is less strenuous than football, so Tendulkar is less unusual—101 men have played Test cricket in their 40s, but their ranks have thinned as the international programme has sprawled. The last was Alec Stewart in 2003, and he only started at 26. Tendulkar was a Test regular at 16, so he is that rare bird, the child star with staying power. Where Giggs is slim and wiry, Tendulkar is 5ft 5in and chunky. A shoulder injury and some poor form nearly finished him in 2006, but he fought back by working ferociously in the gym and the nets. Making a Test century, as he has done far more times than anyone else, means batting for four to six hours in the heat of the day. He regroups with breathing exercises and meditation. Open mind, healthy body.
Stickability: The one-club man is an endangered species, hunted almost to extinction by the plutocrats who have turned sport into a form of luxury shopping. But Ryan Giggs hasn’t changed clubs since 1987, when, as a 14-year-old, he shrewdly left Man City for Man United. With his open mind, he might have made a better fist of playing abroad than most British footballers, but he has stayed firmly put.
The leading cricketers barely play for their clubs these days, but even so, as Kevin Pietersen of England has shown, they can still walk out on them. Tendulkar has played for Mumbai since 1988, and when the Indian Premier League arrived, bearing unprecedented gifts, he simply joined Mumbai Indians.
Vision: Wingers don’t always have this, as Theo Walcott of Arsenal has been known to demonstrate. All they need is pace, and the ability to make one decision—cross the ball or pull it back. Giggs can do that in his sleep, but when he moves into central midfield, it’s as if he has a sat-nav in his head, showing where Rooney and Berbatov are at any given moment. Tendulkar, when he opens the batting for India in a one-day game, has a similar device to tell him where the fielders are.
Stamina: Bobby Charlton’s record of 759 games for Manchester United stood for 35 years, but Giggs surpassed it the night he won his second Champions League medal, in 2008, and by January 2011 he had played another hundred times. Behind the statistics lie decades of dedication and application, of rising to the big occasion and not sinking to the small one. In cricket, it was long thought that 100 Tests or a little more was the limit; they do last five days, after all. Then one bloody-minded Australian, Allan Border, battled his way to 156 Tests, and another, Steve Waugh, managed 168. Tendulkar, without being bloody-minded at all, has played 177 Tests. Going into this year’s World Cup, he also shared the world record for one-day-international caps—a mind-boggling 444. He has far more miles on the clock than any other cricketer of any era.
Humility: Both men play for teams with an arrogant streak. If there were a competition to find the world’s most supported sports team, the final would probably be between Manchester United and the Indian cricketers. The big names in both teams are worshipped like gods and paid like bankers. No player has ever held this status for as long as Giggs and Tendulkar, yet they have remained humble. Giggs doesn’t mind being substituted or coming on as a sub. Tendulkar, unlike some Indian batsmen, takes trouble with his fielding, cricket’s third and least egotistical dimension. He has kept up his sideline as a bowler, purveying modest little allsorts when the team needs them. And neither man minds whether he is captain or not: they just slot in as the senior pro, an almost equally vital but far less visible role.
Simplicity: Tendulkar’s technique is compact and classical: he observes the basics that cricket coaches drum into children—pick up the length, step forward or back, keep your head still—while adding flourishes of his own, such as the whip past mid-on that is more like a tennis shot, a cross-court topspin forehand. Giggs too respects the eternal verities: keep possession, track back, find space, be in a position to be passed to. The younger men he plays against, from Arsenal to Barcelona, play sideways, like quicksilver crabs. Giggs is forever looking to slip the ball forwards. What sounds like a no-brainer has become a USP.
Appetite: Every sporting career begins with a child who just loves kicking or hitting a ball. Giggs and Tendulkar are elder statesmen now, but you can still see that child in them. They come to each game fresh, as if unaware that they have played hundreds of them. They still want to win, although they can hardly move for medals. And they take pleasure in their craft—timing a drive, weighting a pass, whipping up some magic.
Selectivity: Sportsmen who play for both club and country struggle to please both masters: the 2010 football World Cup was a parade of club superstars failing to reproduce their club form, from Rooney to Torres. Giggs, like Paul Scholes, worked out that he couldn’t satisfy his country’s demands as well as Alex Ferguson’s. He quit international football in 2007, after only 64 games for Wales. Tendulkar has played just one Twenty20 match for India, and hasn’t appeared in county cricket since a stint with Yorkshire in 1992.
Dignity: Most of us hope to grow old with dignity. Giggs and Tendulkar both started showing dignity before they grew old: no scandals, no shenanigans, no sex texts. In a petulant age, they show grace under pressure. Neither has much to say, which can be dull for fans but makes sense for them and their teams: their skills do the talking. In “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”, the meaning of life was 42. In football and cricket at the moment, it seems to be 37.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
A Cricketer as 'Balm of the Nation' || Manu Joseph
March 16, 2011
NEW DELHI — Sachin Tendulkar is a short, stout man with a gentle paunch that is the right of any 37-year-old Indian male. He does not look like a millionaire sportsman, but he is that and much more. He is a genius cricketer, one of the greatest batsmen ever to have played the game.
For several years now, fans and journalists in the country have been calling him God (he has denied that he is).
He is probably the most famous living person in India, where the predominant sport is cricket. His epic career has stretched over more than 20 years, and his reign continues in the World Cup that is under way in India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. Such a man tells the story of his nation in a profound way that economic indicators and the laments of activists cannot.
Peter Roebuck, the former English county cricketer and popular cricket writer, says that Mr. Tendulkar “reveals the state of the nation, its evolution.”
In 1989, when Mr. Tendulkar started playing international cricket as a 16-year-old prodigy with an abundant mop of hair, India was on the brink of a severe economic crisis. In a few months, the country would exhaust its foreign currency reserves and have no money to pay for imports. It would have to endure the humiliation of selling its gold to save the day.
The 1990s were difficult, but Mr. Tendulkar bloomed in that decade. The beauty of sport is that even though it is in the realm of entertainment, it is also an indisputable reality. And Mr. Tendulkar became a rare Indian reality that did not depress Indians. In an impoverished, chaotic nation, he swiftly became the most reliable agent of mass euphoria.
In the final week of 1998, the national newsweekly Outlook dedicated an entire issue to him, declaring that he was “The Last Hero.” Tarun Tejpal, who was the magazine’s managing editor then, wrote in that special issue, “Indians are lucky that a short, gifted man can, with a few swishes of his wand, take away the cares and drudgery of their lives and transport them to a 22-yard pleasure palace where the onslaught of disease and the price of onions is for fleeting hours no more real than a distant mirage.”
That one sportsman could bring so much happiness to a whole nation is a consequence of the unsophisticated nature of collective poverty. In the first decade of the 21st century, as the effects of economic liberalization began to show and middle-class Indians boldly purchased comforts that gave them the sweet feeling of growing personal affluence, Mr. Tendulkar’s extraordinary influence over the mood of the nation dwindled (much to his relief). Even as the Indian cricket establishment became exceedingly rich through staggering corporate sponsorships, Mr. Tendulkar was now only a part of the larger celebration of the new Indian capitalism.
The writer Ramachandra Guha, in an essay that is to appear in the Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack next month, says that Mr. Tendulkar remains “the balm of the nation.” But, Mr. Guha points out, there have been crucial changes in the last 10 years:
“The social anxieties of Indians abated,” he wrote. “Economic liberalization created a class of successful entrepreneurs, who in turn generated a growing middle class. Hindu-Muslim riots became less frequent. It became possible once more to appreciate him in purely cricketing terms, rather than as the Savior of the Nation.”
India loves Mr. Tendulkar not only for his style of play, which is aggressive and crafty, but also for the way he behaves off the field — he is respectful and subdued. In a country that is just beginning to shed its sense of inferiority, humility is highly valued in a successful person, and the swagger of confidence is usually met with unspoken disdain. Mr. Tendulkar knows that. Part of his extraordinary fame is a result of his complete understanding of the nature of his people.
He does not flaunt his wealth, he leads a fiercely private life and guards himself from controversy at all times. When he appears in ads, which is often, there is a cultured austerity about him. For instance, his genius is rarely mentioned, he is never surrounded by pretty girls, and he does nothing outlandish.
During the 2003 cricket World Cup in South Africa, Mr. Tendulkar was walking bare-chested on a beach in Durban when an Indian photographer took his picture. I heard him tell the man, only partly in jest, that if he wanted to continue in the media business, the images should never leave his camera. Even as late as 2003, Indians were not used to seeing their cricketers bare-chested, and Mr. Tendulkar probably imagined that the images of his semi-nudity would get too much media play. (He was right.)
Indians are used to self-serving public figures, but somehow they have the extraordinary expectation of Mr. Tendulkar that he should do nothing wrong.
He faced public ire for the first time in his career when news broke in July 2003 that the Indian government had decided to waive the customs duty on the Ferrari Modena that the Italian sports car manufacturer had presented to him as a gift. The waiver, which amounted to about $250,000, created a media storm. The public consensus, as expressed in newspaper surveys and on television shows, was that it was obscene for a poor country to favor a rich man in this manner. People condemned Mr. Tendulkar for not insisting that he would pay the customs duty. (It is still not clear whether he applied for the waiver or the Indian government had volunteered it to honor him.)
The late Pramod Navalkar, a leader of the rightist political party Shiv Sena at the time, said: “Sachin has earned enough for five generations. He needs no financial considerations.”
It was a view that was largely shared by the Indian public.
The many ways in which India reacts to Mr. Tendulkar reveal something about the psychology of the nation. But Mr. Tendulkar, for his part, does not overtly react to India. When he speaks in public, his focus appears to be on avoiding trouble. The Ferrari controversy has made him even more cautious than he already was.
So, he has never spoken out against communal politics or against corruption, and it was with great reluctance that he spoke a little about a scandal that involved his former teammates accepting money from bookies to throw matches.
But even his silence says something about India. Success is a precarious fortune in this country, and people who have achieved something do not want to squander it by antagonizing the powerful. As Mr. Tendulkar told me about 10 years ago when I pressed him to comment on the cricket-bookie nexus: “We should mind our own business.”
Manu Joseph is the editor of OPEN magazine and author of the novel “Serious Men.”
For several years now, fans and journalists in the country have been calling him God (he has denied that he is).
He is probably the most famous living person in India, where the predominant sport is cricket. His epic career has stretched over more than 20 years, and his reign continues in the World Cup that is under way in India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. Such a man tells the story of his nation in a profound way that economic indicators and the laments of activists cannot.
Peter Roebuck, the former English county cricketer and popular cricket writer, says that Mr. Tendulkar “reveals the state of the nation, its evolution.”
In 1989, when Mr. Tendulkar started playing international cricket as a 16-year-old prodigy with an abundant mop of hair, India was on the brink of a severe economic crisis. In a few months, the country would exhaust its foreign currency reserves and have no money to pay for imports. It would have to endure the humiliation of selling its gold to save the day.
The 1990s were difficult, but Mr. Tendulkar bloomed in that decade. The beauty of sport is that even though it is in the realm of entertainment, it is also an indisputable reality. And Mr. Tendulkar became a rare Indian reality that did not depress Indians. In an impoverished, chaotic nation, he swiftly became the most reliable agent of mass euphoria.
In the final week of 1998, the national newsweekly Outlook dedicated an entire issue to him, declaring that he was “The Last Hero.” Tarun Tejpal, who was the magazine’s managing editor then, wrote in that special issue, “Indians are lucky that a short, gifted man can, with a few swishes of his wand, take away the cares and drudgery of their lives and transport them to a 22-yard pleasure palace where the onslaught of disease and the price of onions is for fleeting hours no more real than a distant mirage.”
That one sportsman could bring so much happiness to a whole nation is a consequence of the unsophisticated nature of collective poverty. In the first decade of the 21st century, as the effects of economic liberalization began to show and middle-class Indians boldly purchased comforts that gave them the sweet feeling of growing personal affluence, Mr. Tendulkar’s extraordinary influence over the mood of the nation dwindled (much to his relief). Even as the Indian cricket establishment became exceedingly rich through staggering corporate sponsorships, Mr. Tendulkar was now only a part of the larger celebration of the new Indian capitalism.
The writer Ramachandra Guha, in an essay that is to appear in the Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack next month, says that Mr. Tendulkar remains “the balm of the nation.” But, Mr. Guha points out, there have been crucial changes in the last 10 years:
“The social anxieties of Indians abated,” he wrote. “Economic liberalization created a class of successful entrepreneurs, who in turn generated a growing middle class. Hindu-Muslim riots became less frequent. It became possible once more to appreciate him in purely cricketing terms, rather than as the Savior of the Nation.”
India loves Mr. Tendulkar not only for his style of play, which is aggressive and crafty, but also for the way he behaves off the field — he is respectful and subdued. In a country that is just beginning to shed its sense of inferiority, humility is highly valued in a successful person, and the swagger of confidence is usually met with unspoken disdain. Mr. Tendulkar knows that. Part of his extraordinary fame is a result of his complete understanding of the nature of his people.
He does not flaunt his wealth, he leads a fiercely private life and guards himself from controversy at all times. When he appears in ads, which is often, there is a cultured austerity about him. For instance, his genius is rarely mentioned, he is never surrounded by pretty girls, and he does nothing outlandish.
During the 2003 cricket World Cup in South Africa, Mr. Tendulkar was walking bare-chested on a beach in Durban when an Indian photographer took his picture. I heard him tell the man, only partly in jest, that if he wanted to continue in the media business, the images should never leave his camera. Even as late as 2003, Indians were not used to seeing their cricketers bare-chested, and Mr. Tendulkar probably imagined that the images of his semi-nudity would get too much media play. (He was right.)
Indians are used to self-serving public figures, but somehow they have the extraordinary expectation of Mr. Tendulkar that he should do nothing wrong.
He faced public ire for the first time in his career when news broke in July 2003 that the Indian government had decided to waive the customs duty on the Ferrari Modena that the Italian sports car manufacturer had presented to him as a gift. The waiver, which amounted to about $250,000, created a media storm. The public consensus, as expressed in newspaper surveys and on television shows, was that it was obscene for a poor country to favor a rich man in this manner. People condemned Mr. Tendulkar for not insisting that he would pay the customs duty. (It is still not clear whether he applied for the waiver or the Indian government had volunteered it to honor him.)
The late Pramod Navalkar, a leader of the rightist political party Shiv Sena at the time, said: “Sachin has earned enough for five generations. He needs no financial considerations.”
It was a view that was largely shared by the Indian public.
The many ways in which India reacts to Mr. Tendulkar reveal something about the psychology of the nation. But Mr. Tendulkar, for his part, does not overtly react to India. When he speaks in public, his focus appears to be on avoiding trouble. The Ferrari controversy has made him even more cautious than he already was.
So, he has never spoken out against communal politics or against corruption, and it was with great reluctance that he spoke a little about a scandal that involved his former teammates accepting money from bookies to throw matches.
But even his silence says something about India. Success is a precarious fortune in this country, and people who have achieved something do not want to squander it by antagonizing the powerful. As Mr. Tendulkar told me about 10 years ago when I pressed him to comment on the cricket-bookie nexus: “We should mind our own business.”
Manu Joseph is the editor of OPEN magazine and author of the novel “Serious Men.”
To Sachin || Shreerang Godbole
Dear Sachin,
I feel sad. Even after 22 years of playing for the country, you are still expected to win matches on your own. We forget that apart from you there are 10 more players in the team. You have been the run machine in World Cups with an average of 60. Even today while you yet again proved your class with a 111 the others around took it easy. You chased the ball in the outfield and ensured that your throws landed on top of the bails. Others preferred to drop catches or go back to the dressing room for a 'rest' while a substitute fielder came in.
Sachin, the current Indian cricket team doesn't deserve you. They don't know what it is like to give one's blood and sweat for this nation of a billion people. For them fame and money has come to easy and undeserving - not commensurate to the 'supposed talent' that they posses. Do you remember what you had said to Tom Alter in that interview in 1989? "I just want to play cricket".
Sachin, let me also not hide the truth - you are not my favorite cricketer - but one plays favorites only with humans - not with Gods for they are revered, emulated and looked at in awe...
[We expect Sachin to win this cup for us. But what about the other players? Are they supposed to be playing ludo in the dressing room? I hope that the rest of the team wake up and realize that they are not there to 'play' in the tournament, they are supposed to 'win' it - not for themselves, not for India but for the greatest Indian to have lived - Sachin Tendulkar.
P.S: In the 1992, Hero Cup semi-final in Eden Gardens Kolkata (India Vs. SA), SA needed 6 runs to win off the last over. Tendulkar snatched the ball from Azhar and bowled a magnificent over to win that match for us. (He gave away only 3 runs). Maybe our team needs to watch that over to know what guts and glory are all about.]
Sachin, I hope we win the final in Wankhede. If we don't a billion people can only hang their heads in shame and ask for your forgiveness.
Regards,
One of your undying fans who:
1. Still goes crazy when you hit that straight drive and show us the manufacturer's name on the bat.
2. Stayed awake late into the night before my end terms to watch that 100 in Sharjah in the midst of that sandstorm.
3. Relished every shot that you played to decimate Warne in 1998 and then Shoaib Akhtar in that 2003 World Cup against Pakistan.
4. Will stop watching cricket after you retire.
https://www.facebook.com/notes/shreerang-godbole/to-sachin/10150117162284631
I feel sad. Even after 22 years of playing for the country, you are still expected to win matches on your own. We forget that apart from you there are 10 more players in the team. You have been the run machine in World Cups with an average of 60. Even today while you yet again proved your class with a 111 the others around took it easy. You chased the ball in the outfield and ensured that your throws landed on top of the bails. Others preferred to drop catches or go back to the dressing room for a 'rest' while a substitute fielder came in.
Sachin, the current Indian cricket team doesn't deserve you. They don't know what it is like to give one's blood and sweat for this nation of a billion people. For them fame and money has come to easy and undeserving - not commensurate to the 'supposed talent' that they posses. Do you remember what you had said to Tom Alter in that interview in 1989? "I just want to play cricket".
Sachin, let me also not hide the truth - you are not my favorite cricketer - but one plays favorites only with humans - not with Gods for they are revered, emulated and looked at in awe...
[We expect Sachin to win this cup for us. But what about the other players? Are they supposed to be playing ludo in the dressing room? I hope that the rest of the team wake up and realize that they are not there to 'play' in the tournament, they are supposed to 'win' it - not for themselves, not for India but for the greatest Indian to have lived - Sachin Tendulkar.
P.S: In the 1992, Hero Cup semi-final in Eden Gardens Kolkata (India Vs. SA), SA needed 6 runs to win off the last over. Tendulkar snatched the ball from Azhar and bowled a magnificent over to win that match for us. (He gave away only 3 runs). Maybe our team needs to watch that over to know what guts and glory are all about.]
Sachin, I hope we win the final in Wankhede. If we don't a billion people can only hang their heads in shame and ask for your forgiveness.
Regards,
One of your undying fans who:
1. Still goes crazy when you hit that straight drive and show us the manufacturer's name on the bat.
2. Stayed awake late into the night before my end terms to watch that 100 in Sharjah in the midst of that sandstorm.
3. Relished every shot that you played to decimate Warne in 1998 and then Shoaib Akhtar in that 2003 World Cup against Pakistan.
4. Will stop watching cricket after you retire.
https://www.facebook.com/notes/shreerang-godbole/to-sachin/10150117162284631
Why I dont wanna be Sachin - Some true Sachin Fan
Remember when you failed an examination. How many people recall that, your class, friends, relatives? You failed to make it to the IITs or IIMs. Who remembers. How many times have you had the feeling of being the best in your class, school , university, state….., you failed to get a visa stamped this quarter…, you missed a promotion this year…, how did it feel when your dad told you in your early twenties that you are good for nothing…..and now your boss tell you the same...
You keep introspecting and go into a shell when people most of whom don’t matter a dime in your life criticize you, back bite you, make fun of you. You are left sad and shattered and you cry when your own kin scoffs at you. You say I am feeling low today. It takes a lot from us to come out of these everyday situations and move on. A lot??? really?
Now here’s a man standing on the third man boundary in the last over of a world cup match. The bowler just has to bowl sensibly to win this game. What the man at the boundary sees is 4 rank bad bowls bowled without any sense of focus, planning or regret. India loses, yet again in those circumstances when he has done just about everything right.
He does not cry. Does not show any emotion. Just keeps his head down and leaves the field. He has seen these failures for 22 years now. And not just his class, relatives, friends but the whole world has seen these failures. We are too immature to even imagine what goes on in that mind and heart of his. That’s why I would never want to be Sachin.
True, he has single handedly lifted to moods of this entire nation umpteen number of times. He has been an inspiration to rise above our mediocrity. Nobody who has ever lifted the willow even comes close to this man’s genius. His dedication and metal strength is unparallel. This is specially for those people who would have made fun of him again last night when India lost. They are people who are mediocre in their own lives. Who just scoff at others to create cheap fun. Who have lived in a small hole throughout their lives and thought they have seen the oceans.
Think about the man himself. He is 37 years of age. He has been playing almost non stop for 22 years. The way he was running and diving around the field last night would have put 22 year olds to shame. The way he played the best opening quickies in the world was breathtaking. He just keeps getting better which is by the way humanly impossible. Its not for nothing that people call him GOD.
But still I don’t want to be in those shoes. We struggle in keeping our monotonous lives straight, lives which affect a limited number of people. Imagine what would be the magnitude of the inner struggle for him, pain both mental and physical, tears that have frozen with time, knees and ankles and every other joint in the body that is either bandaged or needs to be attended to every night, eyes that don’t sleep before a big game, bats that have scored 99 international tons and still see expectations from a billion people.
And he just converts those expectations into reality. We watch in awe, feel privileged.
Well I think its time that his team realizes that enough is enough. They have an obligation, not towards their country alone but towards sachin. They need to win this one for him. Stay assured that he himself will still deliver and leave no stone unturned to make sure India wins this cup.
This is not just a game, and he is not just a sportsman. Its much more than this. Words fail here.....
---
A great piece that was being wrongly credited to Harsha Bhogle - he has denied writing this: http://twitter.com/#!/bhog
How great is Tendulkar? || Ben Dirs
There is, I will admit, something slightly absurd about journalists ranking the deeds of our finest sportsmen and women: who am I, to whom greatness is a stranger, to judge greatness in others? And how 'great', really, is someone who happens to have been conferred with the talent of ball control? Mandela-great? Give me a break.
Yet there was lionisation of gladiators in ancient Rome and wrestlers in ancient Greece, suggesting it is inherent in humans to be awed by the athletic prowess of others. No pub bores back in Neolithic times, but there were probably caves full of blokes arguing over who was the greatest tree-climber ever. Even Nelson Mandela, usually taken up with more cerebral matters, admits one of his biggest heroes is Muhammad Ali.
So, let's have it then: how great is Sachin Tendulkar, who goes into Saturday's World Cup final needing to score one century to have amassed 100 in international cricket and one win away from sending the nation of India into meltdown? To answer that question, first it is necessary to define sporting greatness. Then we must address whether Tendulkar fits each component part of that definition.
Don't worry, this isn't a university thesis. But Tendulkar hagiographies are everywhere, and for a full-on love letter to 'The Little Master', you can read a blog I wrote before the World Cup kicked off in earnest, what seems like a eternity ago.
When Andrew Flintoff retired from cricket in 2009 arguments raged in the media and in pubs across the land as to whether he was great or not. I said not, because the first component part of greatness is cold hard statistics.
In 79 Tests and 141 one-day internationals, Flintoff scored eight centuries and took five five-wicket hauls, and never a 10-fer. South Africa's Jacques Kallis has to date played 145 Tests and 314 ODIs, scoring 57 centuries and taking seven five-wicket hauls. In addition, his bowling average in Tests is better than Flintoff's (the Englishman's ODI bowling average is, admittedly, markedly lower).
If a great cricketer is someone whose numbers are comparatively better than all or almost all of his contemporaries, then Kallis qualifies. Flintoff does not. Tendulkar, meanwhile, has scored 30 more tons than the next highest century-maker in international cricket, Ricky Ponting, which puts the Indian out on his own. Miles out, in fact, just like Don Bradman's vertiginous batting average.
Flintoff was a cricketer who occasionally did great things, which is different from being a great cricketer. Which takes us to our next component parts of greatness - longevity and consistency of performance.
To have scored 99 international centuries, it has been necessary for Tendulkar to be at the top of the game for more than 20 years, which in any sport is extraordinary. In that time, he has suffered nary a blip. He had a rough time in Tests in 2006, but the following year he scored 776 runs at an average of 55.4. Not much of a blip.
Paul Gascoigne, one of my few footballing heroes, had more talent in his big toe than most England footballers playing today. But truly great? I would have to say no - too few highlights, far too many lows.
John Daly has won two majors in golf, but only one tournament since claiming the Open Championship in 1995. Does that make him a better golfer than Colin Montgomerie, who has 40 professional wins to his name spanning 18 years, but none of them a major? And if so, does it follow that Daly is necessarily a great? Again, I would have to say no.
Longevity was a big part of Ali's greatness - he won Olympic gold in 1960 and regained the heavyweight world title 18 years later. Mike Tyson, past his best by the age of 24, does not even make venerable boxing historian Bert Sugar's all-time heavyweight top 10.
Sugar, meanwhile, has Britain's Lennox Lewis down at 18 in his list. This is frankly bizarre, but I can understand his thinking: Lewis' achievements, Sugar would no doubt argue, are downgraded by a lack of competition. Competition and rivalry are also significant factors in greatness.
Roger Federer and Rafa Nadal are considered by some to be the two greatest tennis players of all time, and that is in large part down to the fact they have amassed 25 Grand Slam titles between them by having to beat each other on a regular basis.
In Tendulkar's first Test, against Pakistan in Karachi in 1989, the 16-year-old faced fearsome pace duo Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis and he played during the last flourishing of great West Indian quicks. Against Australia, the world's best team for much of the last 20 years, he averages 46 in ODIs and more than 60 in Tests. Like Federer and Nadal, like Nicklaus and Palmer, he thrived against the best.
But where, I hear some of you ask, are Tendulkar's medals, concrete proof of a sportsperson's greatness? Truth is, Tendulkar has won nothing of note. But this is often the way with team sports, especially modern cricket, where the best play almost exclusively in the international arena and the World Cup is the only thing of note to win.
A better gauge of the greatness of team players is how they perform on the biggest stage, and to that end Tendulkar is peerless. In six World Cups, Tendulkar has scored the most runs (2,260 to date), most centuries (six), most 50+ scores (21) and the most runs in a single tournament (673 in 2003). Sure, he has not won a World Cup (yet), but Italy rugby captain Sergio Parisse has a fair few Six Nations Wooden Spoons in his imaginary utensil drawer and is considered at number eight for any world XV.
Last, it is necessary to look at how Tendulkar has gone about his business - the manner in which he has achieved what he has. Personally, I don't subscribe to the view that Tiger Woods is any less great because of his personal travails or because he spits and curses on the course. But there are those who think Tom Watson, for example, is the greater golfer because of his more dignified nature.
Temperament-wise, Tendulkar is more Watson than Woods. During three decades at the pinnacle of his sport, under the glare of more than a billion countrymen, there has been barely a hint of controversy. Indeed, some would argue he has been a little bit dull, that a bit of off-field strife or outspokenness would have made him a more engaging figure.
But it is impossible to imagine the pressure Tendulkar is under. As the signs at his home ground in Mumbai will say on Saturday: "If cricket is a religion, then Sachin is God." The poor bloke has enough on his plate without inviting more attention, and perhaps only Manny Pacquiao, whose fights stop wars in his native Philippines, can truly empathise.
Where Tendulkar is concerned, it is not a case of whether he is great, but how great. Ask a member of England's Rugby World Cup-winning side of 2003 who the most important member of the team was and there is a good chance he will say Richard Hill. Hill is a bona fide great, but he is fortunate in that he can stroll round his local supermarket and hardly anyone will recognise him.
The true greats - the really, really, really great - transcend their sport, become almost god-like, and gods don't go to the supermarket for their shopping. Tendulkar, a legend in his own career, is on the top table, up there with Tiger and Jordan and Pele. Not the greatest, though - I'm with Mandela, that simply has to be Ali, the greatest great there has ever been and probably ever will be.
Yet there was lionisation of gladiators in ancient Rome and wrestlers in ancient Greece, suggesting it is inherent in humans to be awed by the athletic prowess of others. No pub bores back in Neolithic times, but there were probably caves full of blokes arguing over who was the greatest tree-climber ever. Even Nelson Mandela, usually taken up with more cerebral matters, admits one of his biggest heroes is Muhammad Ali.
So, let's have it then: how great is Sachin Tendulkar, who goes into Saturday's World Cup final needing to score one century to have amassed 100 in international cricket and one win away from sending the nation of India into meltdown? To answer that question, first it is necessary to define sporting greatness. Then we must address whether Tendulkar fits each component part of that definition.
Don't worry, this isn't a university thesis. But Tendulkar hagiographies are everywhere, and for a full-on love letter to 'The Little Master', you can read a blog I wrote before the World Cup kicked off in earnest, what seems like a eternity ago.
When Andrew Flintoff retired from cricket in 2009 arguments raged in the media and in pubs across the land as to whether he was great or not. I said not, because the first component part of greatness is cold hard statistics.
In 79 Tests and 141 one-day internationals, Flintoff scored eight centuries and took five five-wicket hauls, and never a 10-fer. South Africa's Jacques Kallis has to date played 145 Tests and 314 ODIs, scoring 57 centuries and taking seven five-wicket hauls. In addition, his bowling average in Tests is better than Flintoff's (the Englishman's ODI bowling average is, admittedly, markedly lower).
If a great cricketer is someone whose numbers are comparatively better than all or almost all of his contemporaries, then Kallis qualifies. Flintoff does not. Tendulkar, meanwhile, has scored 30 more tons than the next highest century-maker in international cricket, Ricky Ponting, which puts the Indian out on his own. Miles out, in fact, just like Don Bradman's vertiginous batting average.
Flintoff was a cricketer who occasionally did great things, which is different from being a great cricketer. Which takes us to our next component parts of greatness - longevity and consistency of performance.
To have scored 99 international centuries, it has been necessary for Tendulkar to be at the top of the game for more than 20 years, which in any sport is extraordinary. In that time, he has suffered nary a blip. He had a rough time in Tests in 2006, but the following year he scored 776 runs at an average of 55.4. Not much of a blip.
Paul Gascoigne, one of my few footballing heroes, had more talent in his big toe than most England footballers playing today. But truly great? I would have to say no - too few highlights, far too many lows.
John Daly has won two majors in golf, but only one tournament since claiming the Open Championship in 1995. Does that make him a better golfer than Colin Montgomerie, who has 40 professional wins to his name spanning 18 years, but none of them a major? And if so, does it follow that Daly is necessarily a great? Again, I would have to say no.
Longevity was a big part of Ali's greatness - he won Olympic gold in 1960 and regained the heavyweight world title 18 years later. Mike Tyson, past his best by the age of 24, does not even make venerable boxing historian Bert Sugar's all-time heavyweight top 10.
Sugar, meanwhile, has Britain's Lennox Lewis down at 18 in his list. This is frankly bizarre, but I can understand his thinking: Lewis' achievements, Sugar would no doubt argue, are downgraded by a lack of competition. Competition and rivalry are also significant factors in greatness.
Roger Federer and Rafa Nadal are considered by some to be the two greatest tennis players of all time, and that is in large part down to the fact they have amassed 25 Grand Slam titles between them by having to beat each other on a regular basis.
In Tendulkar's first Test, against Pakistan in Karachi in 1989, the 16-year-old faced fearsome pace duo Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis and he played during the last flourishing of great West Indian quicks. Against Australia, the world's best team for much of the last 20 years, he averages 46 in ODIs and more than 60 in Tests. Like Federer and Nadal, like Nicklaus and Palmer, he thrived against the best.
But where, I hear some of you ask, are Tendulkar's medals, concrete proof of a sportsperson's greatness? Truth is, Tendulkar has won nothing of note. But this is often the way with team sports, especially modern cricket, where the best play almost exclusively in the international arena and the World Cup is the only thing of note to win.
A better gauge of the greatness of team players is how they perform on the biggest stage, and to that end Tendulkar is peerless. In six World Cups, Tendulkar has scored the most runs (2,260 to date), most centuries (six), most 50+ scores (21) and the most runs in a single tournament (673 in 2003). Sure, he has not won a World Cup (yet), but Italy rugby captain Sergio Parisse has a fair few Six Nations Wooden Spoons in his imaginary utensil drawer and is considered at number eight for any world XV.
Last, it is necessary to look at how Tendulkar has gone about his business - the manner in which he has achieved what he has. Personally, I don't subscribe to the view that Tiger Woods is any less great because of his personal travails or because he spits and curses on the course. But there are those who think Tom Watson, for example, is the greater golfer because of his more dignified nature.
Temperament-wise, Tendulkar is more Watson than Woods. During three decades at the pinnacle of his sport, under the glare of more than a billion countrymen, there has been barely a hint of controversy. Indeed, some would argue he has been a little bit dull, that a bit of off-field strife or outspokenness would have made him a more engaging figure.
But it is impossible to imagine the pressure Tendulkar is under. As the signs at his home ground in Mumbai will say on Saturday: "If cricket is a religion, then Sachin is God." The poor bloke has enough on his plate without inviting more attention, and perhaps only Manny Pacquiao, whose fights stop wars in his native Philippines, can truly empathise.
Where Tendulkar is concerned, it is not a case of whether he is great, but how great. Ask a member of England's Rugby World Cup-winning side of 2003 who the most important member of the team was and there is a good chance he will say Richard Hill. Hill is a bona fide great, but he is fortunate in that he can stroll round his local supermarket and hardly anyone will recognise him.
The true greats - the really, really, really great - transcend their sport, become almost god-like, and gods don't go to the supermarket for their shopping. Tendulkar, a legend in his own career, is on the top table, up there with Tiger and Jordan and Pele. Not the greatest, though - I'm with Mandela, that simply has to be Ali, the greatest great there has ever been and probably ever will be.
Cricket World Cup: Sachin Tendulkar - myth or man? | By Suresh Menon
Suresh Menon is a Bangalore-based journalist and author of "Sachin: Genius Unplugged"
"To us he is no more a person
Now but a whole climate of opinion
Under whom we conduct our different lives."
- W H Auden, from his elegy to Sigmund Freud
In India, Sachin Tendulkar ceased being a person long ago. To a small group of friends and colleagues, he is human with all the frailties that implies. But to the vast majority he is merely a figure on television, indistinguishable from characters such as Superman and Batman.
The illusion is strengthened by the number of occasions he arrives when the team is in trouble and takes them to safety, whipping out his killer straight drive and unstoppable cover drive to deal with the enemy's vicious outswingers or off breaks.
When he does well his fans discover that life has meaning after all; when he fails occasionally they feel suicidal. Then he scores again and the wheel is set in motion once more. The cycle of birth and rebirth is never seen more clearly and more often than on the cricket fields of India.
Auden's lines say it well. Being a non-person means that your ambitions are not your own. Others decide how many runs you should make before you retire. It is always the next milestone that is important.
On the eve of the World Cup final, the ambitions have crystallised. All Tendulkar's fans ask for is that India win the title, and that Tendulkar himself scores his 100th international century.
Currently he has 51 centuries in Tests and 48 in one-day internationals. The next best combined aggregate is former Australia captain Ricky Ponting's 69. The adjective 'Bradmanesque' will have to be replaced by 'Tendulkarine' for the next generation.
In two decades, Tendulkar has been both symbol of a resurgent India, the coming powerhouse, and one of the first sportsmen to benefit from the changed economic climate.
Asked on his first tour of England in 1990 whether he found the endorsements a distraction, the 17-year-old replied: "I am aware it is the cricket that is bringing me these opportunities. If I neglect that, the other will slip away."
Now, a few weeks short of his 38th birthday, as he prepares for his second final (after 2003) in his sixth World Cup, it is easy to imagine that even his rivals will be hoping he gets a century. For Tendulkar is that rare sportsman, one who is worshipped beyond boundaries as much for what he brings to the game as a batsman as for his demeanour as a person.
"When fans call you 'God'," said the Sri Lankan great Muthiah Muralitharan, "it is difficult not to believe it yourself, but Sachin is the most grounded person I know."
The campaign to award the nation's highest civilian honour to a sportsman might reek of cuteness anywhere else, but in India there is no embarrassment in suggesting that Tendulkar be placed in the same category as the great leaders, scientists and social workers.
This could well be Tendulkar's last World Cup, but will it also be his last one-day international? It is a format of the game that he caused to burst into life again with a double century against South Africa last year and by taking India, the nerve centre of the game, into the final of the World Cup.
Since he was a boy of 16, international cricket is the only thing Tendulkar has known. His idea of relaxation after a cricket match is to play more cricket matches. He is willing to bat anywhere. At international stadiums, neighbourhood parks, even in his drawing room in the days when his children were growing up and were pressed into service as bowlers.
Can such a man walk away into the sunset merely because he has achieved everything?
"To us he is no more a person
Now but a whole climate of opinion
Under whom we conduct our different lives."
- W H Auden, from his elegy to Sigmund Freud
In India, Sachin Tendulkar ceased being a person long ago. To a small group of friends and colleagues, he is human with all the frailties that implies. But to the vast majority he is merely a figure on television, indistinguishable from characters such as Superman and Batman.
The illusion is strengthened by the number of occasions he arrives when the team is in trouble and takes them to safety, whipping out his killer straight drive and unstoppable cover drive to deal with the enemy's vicious outswingers or off breaks.
When he does well his fans discover that life has meaning after all; when he fails occasionally they feel suicidal. Then he scores again and the wheel is set in motion once more. The cycle of birth and rebirth is never seen more clearly and more often than on the cricket fields of India.
Auden's lines say it well. Being a non-person means that your ambitions are not your own. Others decide how many runs you should make before you retire. It is always the next milestone that is important.
On the eve of the World Cup final, the ambitions have crystallised. All Tendulkar's fans ask for is that India win the title, and that Tendulkar himself scores his 100th international century.
Currently he has 51 centuries in Tests and 48 in one-day internationals. The next best combined aggregate is former Australia captain Ricky Ponting's 69. The adjective 'Bradmanesque' will have to be replaced by 'Tendulkarine' for the next generation.
In two decades, Tendulkar has been both symbol of a resurgent India, the coming powerhouse, and one of the first sportsmen to benefit from the changed economic climate.
Asked on his first tour of England in 1990 whether he found the endorsements a distraction, the 17-year-old replied: "I am aware it is the cricket that is bringing me these opportunities. If I neglect that, the other will slip away."
Now, a few weeks short of his 38th birthday, as he prepares for his second final (after 2003) in his sixth World Cup, it is easy to imagine that even his rivals will be hoping he gets a century. For Tendulkar is that rare sportsman, one who is worshipped beyond boundaries as much for what he brings to the game as a batsman as for his demeanour as a person.
"When fans call you 'God'," said the Sri Lankan great Muthiah Muralitharan, "it is difficult not to believe it yourself, but Sachin is the most grounded person I know."
The campaign to award the nation's highest civilian honour to a sportsman might reek of cuteness anywhere else, but in India there is no embarrassment in suggesting that Tendulkar be placed in the same category as the great leaders, scientists and social workers.
This could well be Tendulkar's last World Cup, but will it also be his last one-day international? It is a format of the game that he caused to burst into life again with a double century against South Africa last year and by taking India, the nerve centre of the game, into the final of the World Cup.
Since he was a boy of 16, international cricket is the only thing Tendulkar has known. His idea of relaxation after a cricket match is to play more cricket matches. He is willing to bat anywhere. At international stadiums, neighbourhood parks, even in his drawing room in the days when his children were growing up and were pressed into service as bowlers.
Can such a man walk away into the sunset merely because he has achieved everything?
Cricket World Cup: The Sachin & Sourav show | By Tim Peach (BBC Radio Producer)
There was a banner at the VCA Stadium in Nagpur on Saturday night saying 'countdown to God's 100 hundreds'.
The 'God' in question is India's Sachin Tendulkar, a man whose cricket genius has elevated him to a stratospheric level of fame on home soil.
India may have lost a fantastic match to South Africa by three wickets , but with the home side as good as qualified for the quarter-finals, it was the moment that Tendulkar got his 99th century for India that will stay with the 40,000 people present.
As Tendulkar made his way through the nineties, anticipation grew each time he was on strike, dropping to a virtual silence when he only took a single.
Finally, as the Little Master took strike on 99, an expectant roar grew round the stadium. Everyone rose to their feet; Simon Mann, commentating on Test Match Special at the time, had to stand on tip-toes to see.
The adulation that Tendulkar and co receive around the clock is simply astonishing. Former India captain Sourav Ganguly has been part of our commentary team for TMS during this tournament, as well as commentating for television.
As producer, I was responsible for getting him from the TV commentary box to ours. Usually, these boxes are next to each other. But when it is on the other side of the ground, and you are revered as much as Ganguly, that can be quite a problem.
As we walked around the outside of the ground, I soon realised that my tactic of politely asking people to give Sourav some space was not working. I commandeered a passing policeman who was only too happy to help 'Dada' and we soon made our way to the TMS commentators.
Which was where another problem arose. Despite the great match in front of them, the nearby crowd were more interested in turning their backs on the game to see the former Indian captain.
Crowds gathered to the extent that we could no longer see the game - the flash bulbs were almost blinding. One man even blew Sourav a kiss (unless it was to Lee James commentating alongside him).
Later on in the match, I walked around the outskirts of the boundary with him. This created a Mexican wave-effect, as both tiers of the crowd stood up to shout and scream at their hero.
The noise was so loud all the Indian fielders on the off-side turned to see what was going on. Even when I walked back on my own, I got a huge cheer from the crowd, shouting 'Dada's friend!' at me.
"What happens when you go out to the shops?" I asked Ganguly afterwards.
"I don't," came the reply.
"What happens when you go out for a drink?"
"I don't."
I was beginning to see what life is like for the likes of Ganguly and Tendulkar here in India. Both have houses in London, where they can walk the streets without traffic grinding to a halt.
As for his former team-mate, Ganguly is full of praise.
"Sachin does it for the people and for himself," he said. "It's his hunger for the game and his love of batting. He wants to bat and score runs, it makes him happy.
"His family, wife and two children stay away from him quite a lot - that's the sacrifices involved in being a cricketer."
Ganguly believes Tendulkar will retire from one-day internationals after this World Cup, but carry on in Tests for a couple more years - good news for those hoping to see him in action in England this summer.
By that time, Tendulkar may well have become the first ever batsman to make a century of international centuries. What chance it happening in the final on 2 April, in his home city of Mumbai?
The 'God' in question is India's Sachin Tendulkar, a man whose cricket genius has elevated him to a stratospheric level of fame on home soil.
India may have lost a fantastic match to South Africa by three wickets , but with the home side as good as qualified for the quarter-finals, it was the moment that Tendulkar got his 99th century for India that will stay with the 40,000 people present.
As Tendulkar made his way through the nineties, anticipation grew each time he was on strike, dropping to a virtual silence when he only took a single.
Finally, as the Little Master took strike on 99, an expectant roar grew round the stadium. Everyone rose to their feet; Simon Mann, commentating on Test Match Special at the time, had to stand on tip-toes to see.
Sachin does it for the people and for himself. It's his hunger for the game and his love of batting - Ganguly on Tendulkar
The adulation that Tendulkar and co receive around the clock is simply astonishing. Former India captain Sourav Ganguly has been part of our commentary team for TMS during this tournament, as well as commentating for television.
As producer, I was responsible for getting him from the TV commentary box to ours. Usually, these boxes are next to each other. But when it is on the other side of the ground, and you are revered as much as Ganguly, that can be quite a problem.
As we walked around the outside of the ground, I soon realised that my tactic of politely asking people to give Sourav some space was not working. I commandeered a passing policeman who was only too happy to help 'Dada' and we soon made our way to the TMS commentators.
Which was where another problem arose. Despite the great match in front of them, the nearby crowd were more interested in turning their backs on the game to see the former Indian captain.
Crowds gathered to the extent that we could no longer see the game - the flash bulbs were almost blinding. One man even blew Sourav a kiss (unless it was to Lee James commentating alongside him).
Later on in the match, I walked around the outskirts of the boundary with him. This created a Mexican wave-effect, as both tiers of the crowd stood up to shout and scream at their hero.
The noise was so loud all the Indian fielders on the off-side turned to see what was going on. Even when I walked back on my own, I got a huge cheer from the crowd, shouting 'Dada's friend!' at me.
Sachin Tendulkar celebrates his 99th international century
"What happens when you go out to the shops?" I asked Ganguly afterwards.
"I don't," came the reply.
"What happens when you go out for a drink?"
"I don't."
I was beginning to see what life is like for the likes of Ganguly and Tendulkar here in India. Both have houses in London, where they can walk the streets without traffic grinding to a halt.
As for his former team-mate, Ganguly is full of praise.
"Sachin does it for the people and for himself," he said. "It's his hunger for the game and his love of batting. He wants to bat and score runs, it makes him happy.
"His family, wife and two children stay away from him quite a lot - that's the sacrifices involved in being a cricketer."
Ganguly believes Tendulkar will retire from one-day internationals after this World Cup, but carry on in Tests for a couple more years - good news for those hoping to see him in action in England this summer.
By that time, Tendulkar may well have become the first ever batsman to make a century of international centuries. What chance it happening in the final on 2 April, in his home city of Mumbai?
A glimpse into the high pressure world of Sachin Tendulkar in India | Mike Selvey
This article was written on the eve of the World Cup final
This has become Tendulkar's World Cup, and for the final in his home town he is expected to deliver – yet again
To experience a small potpourri of what it means to be an Indian cricketer in his homeland, the lobby of Mumbai's Taj Mahal hotel was the place to be on Thursday afternoon. A large crowd had gathered, strung three or four deep either side of a roped gangway and, as the cameras raised on high clicked and the messages of endearment rang out, the India team, in their smart-casual travel outfits, made their way from the team bus through the concourse to their apartments in the tower wing. And as they passed through they remained stony-faced and silent, looking neither to right nor left before disappearing. The crowd dispersed, hotel staff mostly in this fortress, chattering animatedly, comparing their pictures. Friday morning's paper contained a whole half-page report on this arrival alone.
There are demigods, though, and then there is the true deity. They say that Mahendra Singh Dhoni, the captain on the verge of guiding India to a second World Cup triumph, and the very representation of modern India, earns more now than Sachin Tendulkar, whose own income is believed to be astronomical by any global sporting standard. They adorn billboards, the pair of them, and dominate television advertising. But for Indian followers there is only one true cricketing god, and he stands on the verge of an achievement that, like Don Bradman's Test match average and the international wicket tally of Muttiah Muralitharan, will surely never be beaten.
Tendulkar, accompanied by his wife, hung back a little as the team arrived, not wanting to be first, looking to be as inconspicuous as is possible for the most famous face in a country of a billion people and more. This procession, this need to divorce himself as far as possible from the daily lives of his followers while being mindful of them, has been normal procedure for the past two decades. He has been known to adopt disguise in order to leave the closeted confines of home, and, for fun rather than practicality, drive his high-powered sports cars in the middle of the night, not just to avoid Mumbai's gridlock but to escape the attention that a red Ferrari can bring. Imagine being, say, David Beckham, and then multiply the attention and intrusion tenfold, a hundredfold even, and you get close to understanding what being Tendulkar is all about.
Five years ago Greg Chappell, the Australian who was India's coach at the time of their disastrous World Cup campaign in 2007, did an interview for this paper and spoke of the crushing claustrophobic environment in which Indian players in general and Tendulkar in particular must exist. "I don't think anyone can imagine just how much of a goldfish bowl it is until you are in it,' he said. "When we arrive at airports, large crowds accrue. They want to see the high-profile players, they want to touch them, get a photograph of them. The most intrusive invention in modern times has to be the mobile phone-camera because everyone has a phone, everyone wants an autograph or a snap.
"It is an unnerving experience to drive out of stadiums and see the streets lined with people from all walks of life, particularly those from poorer communities whose only glimpse of the team would be as the bus flashes past, and to see their faces light up. People lining the streets from the airport to the city. That happens here every day with this team.
"For a while I wondered why some of them didn't respond to all these waving people and smiling faces and I realised they can't afford to. Just to give a little bit of emotion to each person would drain them. So they really do just have to live in their own little world as they are carried from hotel to ground, from ground to airport, from airport to plane, to the next airport and the next horde of waiting people all wanting a glimpse of their heroes.
"Players oblige as much as is humanly possible. Sachin Tendulkar, for example, is still the one who is most in demand and the way in which he just copes serenely with it is a lesson to us all. You know he gives what he can but he has learned that there is a limit. So he gives that much and then has to shut himself down."
It is against this background that Tendulkar has prepared himself for what may be the most important innings he has played, and perhaps might be the most anticipated innings in cricket history. Ever since the award of the World Cup to the subcontinent, and the decision to stage the final in Mumbai, it has become Tendulkar's World Cup, even to the extent that the powers might have agreed this for no reason other than this is the home town of India's greatest cricketer. Some even postulated that as his list of international centuries mounted, and the unwavering desire of his renaissance continued, it was almost a matter of destiny that he should make his 100th international hundred in a winning cause in a World Cup final. And so it has come to pass. Almost.
We talk unknowingly of what pressure means in sport. We understand well enough that it is a relative term, that it is not bomb-disposal or living below the breadline. But that is to ignore the mental process that Tendulkar must go through each and every time he straps on his pads and goes out to play for India. Is it he alone that carries the Indian tricolor on his helmet as a sign that he regards each innings as being played, not for himself or the team, but on behalf of a nation? He is a representation of a nation's ambition. When he walks out to bat the noise, in a packed Indian stadium, is deafening. When he is dismissed, the silence is equally deafening. When he fails, he is failing not just the team but the Indian people. This may sound like hyperbole but, truly, it is not.
Now we shall find out the absolute depths of his mental strength, for his skills are second to none. Can he do this? The power to switch off all distraction is the same one that makes him ignore the crowds as much as he might like to engage them. He will encounter a test in a ferocious opponent on the biggest occasion. The pitch will turn, say the experts, and there at the other end, for the last time, will be Murali. Two of the greatest cricketers of this or any other generation locking horns in the biggest game of them all. It is a promoter's dream: a balanced match with a subtext to savour. And who, whatever the result, would not wish the Tendulkar century of centuries and wickets for Murali? Only a churl.
This has become Tendulkar's World Cup, and for the final in his home town he is expected to deliver – yet again
A boy stands with a Sachin Tendulkar poster in the holy Ganges River as Hindu priests and cricket fans perform rituals for the Indian team in Allahabad, India.
To experience a small potpourri of what it means to be an Indian cricketer in his homeland, the lobby of Mumbai's Taj Mahal hotel was the place to be on Thursday afternoon. A large crowd had gathered, strung three or four deep either side of a roped gangway and, as the cameras raised on high clicked and the messages of endearment rang out, the India team, in their smart-casual travel outfits, made their way from the team bus through the concourse to their apartments in the tower wing. And as they passed through they remained stony-faced and silent, looking neither to right nor left before disappearing. The crowd dispersed, hotel staff mostly in this fortress, chattering animatedly, comparing their pictures. Friday morning's paper contained a whole half-page report on this arrival alone.
There are demigods, though, and then there is the true deity. They say that Mahendra Singh Dhoni, the captain on the verge of guiding India to a second World Cup triumph, and the very representation of modern India, earns more now than Sachin Tendulkar, whose own income is believed to be astronomical by any global sporting standard. They adorn billboards, the pair of them, and dominate television advertising. But for Indian followers there is only one true cricketing god, and he stands on the verge of an achievement that, like Don Bradman's Test match average and the international wicket tally of Muttiah Muralitharan, will surely never be beaten.
Tendulkar, accompanied by his wife, hung back a little as the team arrived, not wanting to be first, looking to be as inconspicuous as is possible for the most famous face in a country of a billion people and more. This procession, this need to divorce himself as far as possible from the daily lives of his followers while being mindful of them, has been normal procedure for the past two decades. He has been known to adopt disguise in order to leave the closeted confines of home, and, for fun rather than practicality, drive his high-powered sports cars in the middle of the night, not just to avoid Mumbai's gridlock but to escape the attention that a red Ferrari can bring. Imagine being, say, David Beckham, and then multiply the attention and intrusion tenfold, a hundredfold even, and you get close to understanding what being Tendulkar is all about.
Five years ago Greg Chappell, the Australian who was India's coach at the time of their disastrous World Cup campaign in 2007, did an interview for this paper and spoke of the crushing claustrophobic environment in which Indian players in general and Tendulkar in particular must exist. "I don't think anyone can imagine just how much of a goldfish bowl it is until you are in it,' he said. "When we arrive at airports, large crowds accrue. They want to see the high-profile players, they want to touch them, get a photograph of them. The most intrusive invention in modern times has to be the mobile phone-camera because everyone has a phone, everyone wants an autograph or a snap.
"It is an unnerving experience to drive out of stadiums and see the streets lined with people from all walks of life, particularly those from poorer communities whose only glimpse of the team would be as the bus flashes past, and to see their faces light up. People lining the streets from the airport to the city. That happens here every day with this team.
"For a while I wondered why some of them didn't respond to all these waving people and smiling faces and I realised they can't afford to. Just to give a little bit of emotion to each person would drain them. So they really do just have to live in their own little world as they are carried from hotel to ground, from ground to airport, from airport to plane, to the next airport and the next horde of waiting people all wanting a glimpse of their heroes.
"Players oblige as much as is humanly possible. Sachin Tendulkar, for example, is still the one who is most in demand and the way in which he just copes serenely with it is a lesson to us all. You know he gives what he can but he has learned that there is a limit. So he gives that much and then has to shut himself down."
It is against this background that Tendulkar has prepared himself for what may be the most important innings he has played, and perhaps might be the most anticipated innings in cricket history. Ever since the award of the World Cup to the subcontinent, and the decision to stage the final in Mumbai, it has become Tendulkar's World Cup, even to the extent that the powers might have agreed this for no reason other than this is the home town of India's greatest cricketer. Some even postulated that as his list of international centuries mounted, and the unwavering desire of his renaissance continued, it was almost a matter of destiny that he should make his 100th international hundred in a winning cause in a World Cup final. And so it has come to pass. Almost.
We talk unknowingly of what pressure means in sport. We understand well enough that it is a relative term, that it is not bomb-disposal or living below the breadline. But that is to ignore the mental process that Tendulkar must go through each and every time he straps on his pads and goes out to play for India. Is it he alone that carries the Indian tricolor on his helmet as a sign that he regards each innings as being played, not for himself or the team, but on behalf of a nation? He is a representation of a nation's ambition. When he walks out to bat the noise, in a packed Indian stadium, is deafening. When he is dismissed, the silence is equally deafening. When he fails, he is failing not just the team but the Indian people. This may sound like hyperbole but, truly, it is not.
Now we shall find out the absolute depths of his mental strength, for his skills are second to none. Can he do this? The power to switch off all distraction is the same one that makes him ignore the crowds as much as he might like to engage them. He will encounter a test in a ferocious opponent on the biggest occasion. The pitch will turn, say the experts, and there at the other end, for the last time, will be Murali. Two of the greatest cricketers of this or any other generation locking horns in the biggest game of them all. It is a promoter's dream: a balanced match with a subtext to savour. And who, whatever the result, would not wish the Tendulkar century of centuries and wickets for Murali? Only a churl.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sachin scores Madien T20 Century
Two weeks ago, the crowd at the Wankhede was delirious though a fervently anticipated Sachin Tendulkar century didn't materialise. On Friday, the crowd at the Wankhede was dejected despite Tendulkar crafting a century, as Kochi Kerala Tuskers busted their party with one of the most memorable chases in IPL history.
Sachin Tendulkar checked off another item on his ever-shrinking to-do list with his first century in Twenty20s. Tendulkar had combined power and placement to reach a memorable century. It, however, came after a nervy start: Tendulkar was nearly run out on 0, umpire Paul Reiffel turned down two lbw appeals from Vinay Kumar which should have been given. There was also a close call for caught behind, and an outside edge off Thisara Perera that just beat the keeper. These scares apart, Tendulkar never looked in trouble and wasn't put under any pressure by Kochi Tuskers' bowlers, and he even pulled out a helicopter shot towards the end of Mumbai Indians' innings - perhaps now KP's switch hit and the Dilscoop are left!
Sachin Tendulkar checked off another item on his ever-shrinking to-do list with his first century in Twenty20s. Tendulkar had combined power and placement to reach a memorable century. It, however, came after a nervy start: Tendulkar was nearly run out on 0, umpire Paul Reiffel turned down two lbw appeals from Vinay Kumar which should have been given. There was also a close call for caught behind, and an outside edge off Thisara Perera that just beat the keeper. These scares apart, Tendulkar never looked in trouble and wasn't put under any pressure by Kochi Tuskers' bowlers, and he even pulled out a helicopter shot towards the end of Mumbai Indians' innings - perhaps now KP's switch hit and the Dilscoop are left!
Tendulkar took 43 balls to reach 50 and the final five overs turned into a Tendulkar show as he plundered 45 runs. Tendulkar showed how he could finesse the ball or force it depending on his mood: in the 16th over, a short ball on legstump was helped over fine leg for six, and a length ball outside off was pummelled over long-on for six more as 20 came off the over. A helicopter shot for four (eat your heart out MSD!) and a slugged six over midwicket took him to 90 after 19 overs.
Tendulkar proceeded to paddle a four past short fine leg, and bludgeon another past long-on before reaching his ton with a push to cover off the final delivery of the innings. Tendulkar reached his century off the last ball of Mumbai Indians' innings to remain unbeaten on 100 (66 balls, 12x4, 3x6). Tendulkar, who has now scored 201 runs in IPL-4 without being dismissed once also wrested away the Orange Cap from Kolkata Knight Riders' Jacques Kallis (187 runs).
The decibel level shot up in the Wankhede but it was a muted celebration from Tendulkar on reaching the milestone. Unfortunately, neither he nor the crowd were celebrating at the end of the game.
So, first a Poila Boishak gift to Bongs by KKR and now a Vishu gift by KTK to Mallus - quite a festive evening of crickentertainment indeed! Not often that Sachincredible batting is in vain... never mind, another item ticked off the list. Now centuries in all forms of the game!
Vintage wizardry | Ramchandra Guha
The Leading Cricketer in the World was instituted in Wisden 2004. The six previous winners have been Ricky Ponting, Shane Warne, Andrew Flintoff, Muttiah Muralitharan, Jacques Kallis and Virender Sehwag. Players can be chosen more than once for this award.
From the middle of October to the middle of December 2010, the Republic of India was beset by a series of corruption scandals - money illegally made on contracts for the Commonwealth Games, on housing projects in Mumbai and mining schemes in Karnataka, on the allocation of scarce airwaves for mobile-phone companies. The amount stolen by politicians (of all parties) ran into hundreds of billions of rupees. The scandals dominated the headlines for weeks until they were temporarily set aside to make way for Sachin Tendulkar's 50th Test hundred. This was met with relief, but also with wonder and admiration - indeed, it revived calls for the batsman to be awarded the Bharat Ratna, India's highest honour, previously reserved for politicians, scientists and musicians.
For Tendulkar to be viewed as a balm for the nation's (mostly self-inflicted) wounds was not new. As long ago as 1998, the Bombay poet C. P. Surendran wrote: "Batsmen walk out into the middle alone. Not Tendulkar. Every time Tendulkar walks to the crease, a whole nation, tatters and all, marches with him to the battle arena. A pauper people pleading for relief, remission from the lifelong anxiety of being Indian, by joining in spirit their visored saviour."
Over the next decade, the social anxieties of Indians abated. Economic liberalisation created a class of successful entrepreneurs, who in turn generated a growing middle class. Hindu-Muslim riots became less frequent. Meanwhile, Rahul Dravid, Sourav Ganguly, V. V. S. Laxman and Virender Sehwag arrived to take some of the burden of making runs (and relieving fans) off Tendulkar. It became possible once more to appreciate him in purely cricketing terms, rather than as the Saviour of the Nation.
Viewed thus, there appear to have been three distinct stages in Tendulkar's career as an international cricketer. For a full decade following his debut as a 16-year-old in 1989, he was a purely attacking batsman. Coming in at (say) ten for two, he would seek not to stabilise an innings but to wrest the game away from the opposition. This he did frequently, and in dazzling fashion, through slashing square cuts and pulls, and drives past the bowler and wide of mid-on. There was no shot he would not play, no form of bowling that in any way intimidated or even contained him.
Then Tendulkar began to slow down. He now ducked the short ball (previously he would have hooked it), and played spin bowlers from the crease. The back-foot force through cover that was his trademark became scarce. He still scored runs regularly, but mostly through the on side, via dabs, sweeps, drives and the occasional pull.
We now know that this transformation in Tendulkar's game was due to a sore elbow. But while it lasted it appeared to be permanent; I even wrote at the time that "the genius has become a grafter". (My embarrassment at recalling this is tempered by the fact that some other writers were even more dismissive.) On the advice of a Mumbai doctor, he rested his left hand completely - he would not even, I am told, lift a coffee mug with it. The treatment worked, for as his elbow healed he recovered his fluency. The hook shot and the lofted drive were used sparingly, but his mastery of the off side was once more revealed in all its splendour.
It is commonplace to juxtapose Tendulkar with Don Bradman, but a more relevant comparison might be with the great Surrey and England opening batsman Jack Hobbs. There was a pre-war and a post-war Hobbs, and there has been a pre-tennis elbow and post-tennis elbow Tendulkar. Like Hobbs, in his late thirties he no longer so wholly dominates the bowling, but he is still pleasing to watch, and remains the batsman whose wicket (Sehwag, Dravid, Laxman notwithstanding) the opposition prizes most highly.
Young Sachin enjoyed several truly fabulous years, but 2010 was the annus mirabilis of the Late Tendulkar. Last year he scored more Test runs (1,562, at an average of 78) than anybody else. In February he scored the first double-century in one-day internationals; in December, he became the first man to score 50 Test hundreds, both landmarks achieved against the best pace attack in world cricket, South Africa. I was privileged to watch, live, a magnificent double-hundred he made against Australia at Bangalore, marked by cuts, drives, pulls, hooks and even two colossal sixes into the stands.
As he has grown older, Tendulkar has taken several measures to prolong his career. He does not play any Twenty20 internationals, bowls rarely, and fields mostly at mid-on, a position Sir Robert Menzies once called "the last refuge of mankind", but in this case a measure intended to preserve his fingers from damage (when younger he fielded very effectively in the slips).
Hanif Mohammad once said of Garfield Sobers that he "had been sent by God to Earth to play cricket". It is not only Indians who think that way about Tendulkar. Like Hobbs, he is equally admired by fans and players, by team-mate and adversary alike. His off-field conduct has been exemplary (with one trifling exception - when he asked for a tariff waiver on the import of a fancy foreign car). Australians venerate him; they do not even sledge him.
What might mean even more to him is the frank adoration and love of his team-mates. Indian cricket was long marked by personal rivalries and parochial jealousies; if that seems now to be behind us, this is the handiwork of a generation of gifted and selfless cricketers, among them Dravid, Laxman, Ganguly and Anil Kumble, but perhaps Tendulkar most. One image captures it all. A cake was being cut to mark victory in a hard-fought one-day series in Pakistan several years ago. The first piece was offered to the player of the tournament, Yuvraj Singh, who immediately turned the plate towards his hero and said, "Pehlé Sachin bhai ko": the first one is for our elder brother, Sachin.
From the middle of October to the middle of December 2010, the Republic of India was beset by a series of corruption scandals - money illegally made on contracts for the Commonwealth Games, on housing projects in Mumbai and mining schemes in Karnataka, on the allocation of scarce airwaves for mobile-phone companies. The amount stolen by politicians (of all parties) ran into hundreds of billions of rupees. The scandals dominated the headlines for weeks until they were temporarily set aside to make way for Sachin Tendulkar's 50th Test hundred. This was met with relief, but also with wonder and admiration - indeed, it revived calls for the batsman to be awarded the Bharat Ratna, India's highest honour, previously reserved for politicians, scientists and musicians.
For Tendulkar to be viewed as a balm for the nation's (mostly self-inflicted) wounds was not new. As long ago as 1998, the Bombay poet C. P. Surendran wrote: "Batsmen walk out into the middle alone. Not Tendulkar. Every time Tendulkar walks to the crease, a whole nation, tatters and all, marches with him to the battle arena. A pauper people pleading for relief, remission from the lifelong anxiety of being Indian, by joining in spirit their visored saviour."
Over the next decade, the social anxieties of Indians abated. Economic liberalisation created a class of successful entrepreneurs, who in turn generated a growing middle class. Hindu-Muslim riots became less frequent. Meanwhile, Rahul Dravid, Sourav Ganguly, V. V. S. Laxman and Virender Sehwag arrived to take some of the burden of making runs (and relieving fans) off Tendulkar. It became possible once more to appreciate him in purely cricketing terms, rather than as the Saviour of the Nation.
Viewed thus, there appear to have been three distinct stages in Tendulkar's career as an international cricketer. For a full decade following his debut as a 16-year-old in 1989, he was a purely attacking batsman. Coming in at (say) ten for two, he would seek not to stabilise an innings but to wrest the game away from the opposition. This he did frequently, and in dazzling fashion, through slashing square cuts and pulls, and drives past the bowler and wide of mid-on. There was no shot he would not play, no form of bowling that in any way intimidated or even contained him.
Then Tendulkar began to slow down. He now ducked the short ball (previously he would have hooked it), and played spin bowlers from the crease. The back-foot force through cover that was his trademark became scarce. He still scored runs regularly, but mostly through the on side, via dabs, sweeps, drives and the occasional pull.
We now know that this transformation in Tendulkar's game was due to a sore elbow. But while it lasted it appeared to be permanent; I even wrote at the time that "the genius has become a grafter". (My embarrassment at recalling this is tempered by the fact that some other writers were even more dismissive.) On the advice of a Mumbai doctor, he rested his left hand completely - he would not even, I am told, lift a coffee mug with it. The treatment worked, for as his elbow healed he recovered his fluency. The hook shot and the lofted drive were used sparingly, but his mastery of the off side was once more revealed in all its splendour.
It is commonplace to juxtapose Tendulkar with Don Bradman, but a more relevant comparison might be with the great Surrey and England opening batsman Jack Hobbs. There was a pre-war and a post-war Hobbs, and there has been a pre-tennis elbow and post-tennis elbow Tendulkar. Like Hobbs, in his late thirties he no longer so wholly dominates the bowling, but he is still pleasing to watch, and remains the batsman whose wicket (Sehwag, Dravid, Laxman notwithstanding) the opposition prizes most highly.
Young Sachin enjoyed several truly fabulous years, but 2010 was the annus mirabilis of the Late Tendulkar. Last year he scored more Test runs (1,562, at an average of 78) than anybody else. In February he scored the first double-century in one-day internationals; in December, he became the first man to score 50 Test hundreds, both landmarks achieved against the best pace attack in world cricket, South Africa. I was privileged to watch, live, a magnificent double-hundred he made against Australia at Bangalore, marked by cuts, drives, pulls, hooks and even two colossal sixes into the stands.
As he has grown older, Tendulkar has taken several measures to prolong his career. He does not play any Twenty20 internationals, bowls rarely, and fields mostly at mid-on, a position Sir Robert Menzies once called "the last refuge of mankind", but in this case a measure intended to preserve his fingers from damage (when younger he fielded very effectively in the slips).
Hanif Mohammad once said of Garfield Sobers that he "had been sent by God to Earth to play cricket". It is not only Indians who think that way about Tendulkar. Like Hobbs, he is equally admired by fans and players, by team-mate and adversary alike. His off-field conduct has been exemplary (with one trifling exception - when he asked for a tariff waiver on the import of a fancy foreign car). Australians venerate him; they do not even sledge him.
What might mean even more to him is the frank adoration and love of his team-mates. Indian cricket was long marked by personal rivalries and parochial jealousies; if that seems now to be behind us, this is the handiwork of a generation of gifted and selfless cricketers, among them Dravid, Laxman, Ganguly and Anil Kumble, but perhaps Tendulkar most. One image captures it all. A cake was being cut to mark victory in a hard-fought one-day series in Pakistan several years ago. The first piece was offered to the player of the tournament, Yuvraj Singh, who immediately turned the plate towards his hero and said, "Pehlé Sachin bhai ko": the first one is for our elder brother, Sachin.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
If wishes were horses!
"So what do I wish for my hero in the future – well if wishes were horses then I would want him to score atleast 15,000 runs in test cricket (well that’s only 2227 runs away), complete a century of international centuries (only 14 more to get!), to break Lara’s record of the highest test score of 400* (it’s sad that Sachin hasn’t got a triple ton till date…) and break Saeed Anwar’s record of the highest ODI score of 194 (well Sachin came close in Hyderabad scoring 186* (150b) on 8th Nov 1999 – a game I was priviledged to have watched at the Lal Bahadur Stadium)… but above all else, he must win India the World Cup (his stature demands it!)."
I wrote the down this fantastic wishlist on 20th September 2009 when Sachin completed his two decades in International Cricket - at the time, I did not imagine that in just over a year down the line, playing his 21st season for India, at 37, my hero would achieve almost all of the above. In 2010, he achieved most of the wishes on my list: He closed in on 15,000 test runs (just 308 runs away now) having already hit an incredible 51 Test Centuries ... and he fulfilled my 4th wish - in February 2010, a few days before his 37th Birthday (and one day after my 29th!), Sachin scored the first double century in ODIs thus eclipsing Saeed Anwar's record! What a birthday gift! What a year he had!
Come February 2011, the entire country (including his coach, Achrekar Sir) was willing him to lead India to World Cup victory. Sachin Tendulkar himself had said that ICC cricket World Cup 2011 was the most important tournament of his life. Even though he has never let his private emotions to be made public, he is in full vigour to continue playing WC 2011.Sachin said, "Yes, it is the most important tournament of my life. Everyone wants the team to do well. I need to focus all my energies on how to go about doing my job."
Well., to say that the pressure on Team Indian and Sachin in particular was immense, would be the understatement of the century!
India started as favourites and in a long tournament, that started on 19/02/2011, the team started slowly and fans got restless. Then add to that the drama of the tied game with England and losing to South Africa after having scored 300+ runs (Sachin scored centuries in each of these matches).
However with pressure just increasing in the knock out phase, Team India came through to the finals beating Australia in QFs in Motera and Pakistan in the semis in Mohali. Finally on 02/04/2011, Dhoni led India to World Cup glory over Sri Lanka and my biggest wish came true! Here's SRT during WC 2011 Finals that was played in his homeground, Wankhade Stadium in Mumbai:
Sachin Tendulkar said that winning cricket World Cup is the best moment of his life and that the winning the Cup was for all of India (Well India says thanks a billion, Sachin). India's master batsman He described winning the World Cup in front of his home crowd in Mumbai as the proudest moment of his life. Tendulkar was unable to mark the occasion with the 100th international hundred millions had craved for him, leaving it instead to captain Mahendra Singh Dhoni (91no) and Gautam Gambhir (97) to lead the run chase in a six-wicket victory over Sri Lanka.
But after India had won the Cup for the first time since their maiden trophy in 1983, at 37-year-old Tendulkar's sixth attempt (see picture above for Sachin at all 6 WCs), he admitted to shedding tears of joy at succeeding at last. "They are happy tears, so I don't mind at all," he said. "I could not have asked for anything better than this. Winning the World Cup ... it is the proudest moment of my life. It's never too late. Thanks to all my team-mates. Without their fabulous performances, this would never have happened."
During the WC, Sachin went past 18,000 ODI runs. At the end of the tournament, he finished up as India's leading batsman and was the second highest run-scorer with 482 runs (just 18 behind leader Dilshan) with 2 centuries, one each against England and South Africa. He nearly got his 100th International Century against Pakistan in the semis in Mohali but got out on 85. Never mind... there's just one more to get for my third wish to come true!
"Couldn't have asked for more. This is ultimate. It is the proudest moment of my life," said Tendulkar in a choked voice after the victory. "I thank the team for putting up a fabulous performance and playing consistent cricket," the maestro added.
Tendulkar, who did a lap of honour on shoulder of his teammates, said that there were tears in his eyes once Dhoni hit that six. "Yes, they were happy tears. So I don't mind. We have stuck together through ups and down," stated the smiling legend.
The entire team wanted to win the World Cup for the Little Master. Before the tournament started, Gautam Gambhir was brimming with confidence and was sure that Team India will go all out to win the World Cup in honour of the team's oldest player and veteran 6 times over, of the mega-tournament. "I sincerely wish that this would not be Sachin's last World Cup and he would play one more. All members of the Indian side would like to win it for him," Gambhir told a leading news channel. And the Boys in Blue kept their word. Gauti himself said after winning the Cup that the win was a gift to his great teammate from the entire squad. "All credit for this win should go to Tendulkar. We were all playing for him, this trophy is for him."
After the victory over Australia in the QFs, Yuvi has said: "I want to win the World Cup for someone special." After playing a major role in India's World Cup title triumph, a feat that fetched him the man of the tournament award, swashbuckling left-handed batsman Yuvraj Singh revealed that he wanted to win cricket's most coveted title for senior teammate Sachin Tendulkar. "Very sorry to disappoint you, guys. It was not for my girlfriend but for Sachin Tendulkar," he said at the packed post-final media conference with skipper Mahendra Singh Dhoni sitting by his side.
And the man to whom the team dedicated the cup was his humble-self, stating that it was a team effort. "Thanks to our support staff. Everyone worked very hard, especially Mike Horn who joined us before the World Cup started. And also in the last couple of games worked on our mental side to deal with expectations and pressure. So I think that has really helped," said Tendulkar.
"Obviously the team stuck together through ups and downs; there were a few rough phases in the team. We proved most of the people wrong, who were doubting our ability," the master batsman added.
When quizzed about the evident self-belief in Team India, Tendulkar said it was "always there." "It has always been there, a little more in the last two years when we have been consistent. It has been an honour to be part of this team. A special thanks to Gary and the whole staff. I think their contribution has been immense."
Describing India's World Cup win as a dream he had been chasing for 21 years, Sachin Tendulkar said that he could not sleep on Saturday night as he could not believe that India had finally become world champions. "I never thought that God would show me this day. I cannot express my delight," Tendulkar said.
"As an Indian, we have all won this cup. It's not just us 15 (in the squad) but the entire nation. The cup belongs to the entire nation so I am sure they are feeling part of it." Asked if he would play in the next edition in 2015 in Australia and New Zealand, Tendulkar replied: "All I will say is that it is a great moment. Focus on this, enjoy this, rather than looking back or too far ahead." Tendulkar, who was speaking at a reception hosted in honour of the victorious team at Raj Bhavan, said: "We should leave all that (speculation on his future plans) and enjoy this moment." Asked if he was disappointed at missing a chance to make his 100th international century in the final, Tendulkar said that was not relevant. "The World Cup win was big and should be savoured."
Sachin, later, also revealed that he started nurturing ambitions of winning the 2011 World Cup right after India's crushing first-round exit in the 2007 edition of the tournament. Talking to Mid-Day after India's victory in the World Cup final, Tendulkar said the prospect of lifting the Cup in front of his home crowd had motivated him through tough times.
Sachin had a very interesting observation: Indian cricketers from small towns are making their presence felt in a big way in international cricket, and Sachin feels these players are a bit "more motivated" to make it big. "I think the players from the smaller towns sacrifice a bit more for developing their cricketing skills. They are a bit more motivated to make it big."
Sachin rated MS Dhoni as the best captain he has played under during his 22-year cricket career. Dhoni had earlier said what the rest of the world already knew:
Sachin Tendulkar also spoke about about his finest memories of the 2011 World Cup where he finally fulfilled his lifetime dream of lifting the coveted trophy:
Unforgettable dressing room moment: The moment the winning runs were scored, I jumped. Viru (Sehwag) who was next to me, jumped too. We were sitting in the dressing room and praying.
Unforgettable part of the celebrations: When we got the trophy in our hands and the popping of champagne. Also, when the team lifted me with the tri-colour in my hand. That was the ultimate feeling.
Unforgettable innings that you played: I was batting really well against South Africa, but in terms of importance, it's got to be the one against Pakistan.
Unforgettable innings from your teammates: There were many! The one Viru played in the first game against Bangladesh, Yuvraj Singh played many, Suresh Raina, Gautam Gambhir, Virat Kohli... all the guys chipped in.
Unforgettable bowling spell: Zaheer Khan bowled some very important spells. In the semi-final, Ashish Nehra bowled well. Munaf got some important wickets too. Harbhajan Singh and R Ashwin bowled well too. Everyone has chipped in. That is why I call it a thorough team performance. Everyone did their job and somewhere they made an impact.
Unforgettable captaincy move: We set a 6-3 field against Pakistan at Mohali. Their opening batsman, Mohammad Hafeez tried to play a sweep shot off Munaf Patel and got caught behind. I thought that was the turning point of the match.
Unforgettable catch: The one Viru caught off Shahid Afridi. The match was very much alive then because Misbah & Afridi were batting and we needed two-three big overs at that stage, so that was an important catch. An easy one, but important.
Unforgettable tense moment: There were many moments when we were really tense especially in the last three matches....we knew there would be no second chance. There were many moments like that.
For me, this was the most unforgettable moment of the victory celebrations:
Sachin Tendulkar walked out of the changing room and gestured to Sudhir Gautam to come up. Gautam is the thin, pale man with a shaven head and body covered in the Indian tri-colour. He is the man you would have seen recently with a miniature replica of the World Cup hanging atop his head. For at least half a decade now, Gautam has been Tendulkar's biggest fan, waving the Indian flag and blowing his conch shell at every venue Tendulkar plays. On Saturday, Tendulkar decided to repay Gautam for his devotion.
No sooner had he realised that Tendulkar was calling, than Gautam jumped the electronic advertising hoarding and then skipped up the 30-odd stairs on to the corridor of the Indian changing room. All through his short journey he screamed in delight. Tendulkar shook hands with him, then embraced him and finally asked one of his teammates to get the World Cup trophy. Zaheer Khan brought the cup outside with utmost care and held it tight. Gautam virtually snatched it out of the hands of the tournament's joint-highest wicket-taker. But Zaheer held on to the crown still. Eventually Gautam lifted the Cup with both hands as Zaheer let go. As soon as Gautam lifted the Cup and screamed "Indiaa", Tendulkar could not help but smile. He even clapped and was joined in appreciation by a few of his teammates. The sweat on Tendulkar's face glistened under the floodlights, enhancing his joy of winning the World Cup. It was a day when the common man felt he was part of something special. (Read the full story at: http://sports.ndtv.com/world-cup-2011/news/item/171558-indias-cup-of-joy-overflows)
--
In the match Vs Netherlands, the Run Machine became the first player to score 2,000 runs in World Cup history. Sachin, playing his sixth World Cup, the most by any player (a record he shares with Javed Miandad), also holds the records for most centuries (6) and most half-centuries (15) in 45 matches in the flagship event of the ICC. Also, in this edition, he reached 99 International Centuries.
Further, the batting legend , while achieving the magical figure of 99 international hundreds during the India-South Africa Group B match in Nagpur, became the first one to score 20 One-day International (ODI) centuries in his home country. Sachin made an Indian record for most sixes in ODIs, taking his sixes’ tally to 193, bettering Sourav Ganguly’s tally of 190. (Shahid Afridi (289) holds a record followed by Sanath Jayasuriya (270) and Sachin Tendulkar (193))
The master blaster also has become the first to complete 2,000 runs against South Africa. Sachin has now complete 2,000 runs against four countries in ODIs - South Africa, Australia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka.
So with the World Cup lifted, it's truly been 21 years of glory. With 51 Test tons, 48 ODI tons and nearly 33,000 runs in the bag, here's what his incredible record currently looks like:
What's left then? For starters, a century at Lords - the Honours Board at Lords has his name missing. Heck even Ajit Agarkar has his name on it! It could happen this July.
And maybe, round it off with Mumbai Indians lifting the IPL and even the Champions League T20? That would kill two irritating arguments against the man - one, on his captaincy and two, on his age, retirement, ability of veterans to play T20, et all!
But the one I wish for the most is a test match triple century... he has six double hundreds (it would have been seven if not for Rahul Dravid's abrupt declaration in the Multan Test in 2004, which left SRT stranded only six runs short of a double century. Tendulkar, batting on 194 in the first Test against archrivals Pakistan, left no one in doubt that "he felt let down", Wright says in his just-published book Indian Summers. "The matter became a full-fledged sensation when Tendulkar told a press conference he was disappointed not to get his double century. He'd been playing for India since he was 16; he'd stood up for his country in bad times and tough conditions, and often been the only man to do so. Having given so much for the team, over such a long period, he probably thought this was one time the team could give something back to him. Even the greatest have their goals and dreams and milestones, and a double century against Pakistan in Pakistan would have been a memory to treasure.")
Well at least for now, Lara's 400 is safe. But India is visiting Brian's part of town this summer - if wishes were horses, eh?
I wrote the down this fantastic wishlist on 20th September 2009 when Sachin completed his two decades in International Cricket - at the time, I did not imagine that in just over a year down the line, playing his 21st season for India, at 37, my hero would achieve almost all of the above. In 2010, he achieved most of the wishes on my list: He closed in on 15,000 test runs (just 308 runs away now) having already hit an incredible 51 Test Centuries ... and he fulfilled my 4th wish - in February 2010, a few days before his 37th Birthday (and one day after my 29th!), Sachin scored the first double century in ODIs thus eclipsing Saeed Anwar's record! What a birthday gift! What a year he had!
Come February 2011, the entire country (including his coach, Achrekar Sir) was willing him to lead India to World Cup victory. Sachin Tendulkar himself had said that ICC cricket World Cup 2011 was the most important tournament of his life. Even though he has never let his private emotions to be made public, he is in full vigour to continue playing WC 2011.Sachin said, "Yes, it is the most important tournament of my life. Everyone wants the team to do well. I need to focus all my energies on how to go about doing my job."
Well., to say that the pressure on Team Indian and Sachin in particular was immense, would be the understatement of the century!
India started as favourites and in a long tournament, that started on 19/02/2011, the team started slowly and fans got restless. Then add to that the drama of the tied game with England and losing to South Africa after having scored 300+ runs (Sachin scored centuries in each of these matches).
However with pressure just increasing in the knock out phase, Team India came through to the finals beating Australia in QFs in Motera and Pakistan in the semis in Mohali. Finally on 02/04/2011, Dhoni led India to World Cup glory over Sri Lanka and my biggest wish came true! Here's SRT during WC 2011 Finals that was played in his homeground, Wankhade Stadium in Mumbai:
Sachin Tendulkar said that winning cricket World Cup is the best moment of his life and that the winning the Cup was for all of India (Well India says thanks a billion, Sachin). India's master batsman He described winning the World Cup in front of his home crowd in Mumbai as the proudest moment of his life. Tendulkar was unable to mark the occasion with the 100th international hundred millions had craved for him, leaving it instead to captain Mahendra Singh Dhoni (91no) and Gautam Gambhir (97) to lead the run chase in a six-wicket victory over Sri Lanka.
But after India had won the Cup for the first time since their maiden trophy in 1983, at 37-year-old Tendulkar's sixth attempt (see picture above for Sachin at all 6 WCs), he admitted to shedding tears of joy at succeeding at last. "They are happy tears, so I don't mind at all," he said. "I could not have asked for anything better than this. Winning the World Cup ... it is the proudest moment of my life. It's never too late. Thanks to all my team-mates. Without their fabulous performances, this would never have happened."
During the WC, Sachin went past 18,000 ODI runs. At the end of the tournament, he finished up as India's leading batsman and was the second highest run-scorer with 482 runs (just 18 behind leader Dilshan) with 2 centuries, one each against England and South Africa. He nearly got his 100th International Century against Pakistan in the semis in Mohali but got out on 85. Never mind... there's just one more to get for my third wish to come true!
"He has carried the burden of the nation for 21 years. It is time we carried him on our shoulders." - Virat Kohli leads the Tendulkar tributes after India's World Cup triumph
"Couldn't have asked for more. This is ultimate. It is the proudest moment of my life," said Tendulkar in a choked voice after the victory. "I thank the team for putting up a fabulous performance and playing consistent cricket," the maestro added.
Tendulkar, who did a lap of honour on shoulder of his teammates, said that there were tears in his eyes once Dhoni hit that six. "Yes, they were happy tears. So I don't mind. We have stuck together through ups and down," stated the smiling legend.
The entire team wanted to win the World Cup for the Little Master. Before the tournament started, Gautam Gambhir was brimming with confidence and was sure that Team India will go all out to win the World Cup in honour of the team's oldest player and veteran 6 times over, of the mega-tournament. "I sincerely wish that this would not be Sachin's last World Cup and he would play one more. All members of the Indian side would like to win it for him," Gambhir told a leading news channel. And the Boys in Blue kept their word. Gauti himself said after winning the Cup that the win was a gift to his great teammate from the entire squad. "All credit for this win should go to Tendulkar. We were all playing for him, this trophy is for him."
After the victory over Australia in the QFs, Yuvi has said: "I want to win the World Cup for someone special." After playing a major role in India's World Cup title triumph, a feat that fetched him the man of the tournament award, swashbuckling left-handed batsman Yuvraj Singh revealed that he wanted to win cricket's most coveted title for senior teammate Sachin Tendulkar. "Very sorry to disappoint you, guys. It was not for my girlfriend but for Sachin Tendulkar," he said at the packed post-final media conference with skipper Mahendra Singh Dhoni sitting by his side.
And the man to whom the team dedicated the cup was his humble-self, stating that it was a team effort. "Thanks to our support staff. Everyone worked very hard, especially Mike Horn who joined us before the World Cup started. And also in the last couple of games worked on our mental side to deal with expectations and pressure. So I think that has really helped," said Tendulkar.
"Obviously the team stuck together through ups and downs; there were a few rough phases in the team. We proved most of the people wrong, who were doubting our ability," the master batsman added.
When quizzed about the evident self-belief in Team India, Tendulkar said it was "always there." "It has always been there, a little more in the last two years when we have been consistent. It has been an honour to be part of this team. A special thanks to Gary and the whole staff. I think their contribution has been immense."
Describing India's World Cup win as a dream he had been chasing for 21 years, Sachin Tendulkar said that he could not sleep on Saturday night as he could not believe that India had finally become world champions. "I never thought that God would show me this day. I cannot express my delight," Tendulkar said.
"As an Indian, we have all won this cup. It's not just us 15 (in the squad) but the entire nation. The cup belongs to the entire nation so I am sure they are feeling part of it." Asked if he would play in the next edition in 2015 in Australia and New Zealand, Tendulkar replied: "All I will say is that it is a great moment. Focus on this, enjoy this, rather than looking back or too far ahead." Tendulkar, who was speaking at a reception hosted in honour of the victorious team at Raj Bhavan, said: "We should leave all that (speculation on his future plans) and enjoy this moment." Asked if he was disappointed at missing a chance to make his 100th international century in the final, Tendulkar said that was not relevant. "The World Cup win was big and should be savoured."
Sachin, later, also revealed that he started nurturing ambitions of winning the 2011 World Cup right after India's crushing first-round exit in the 2007 edition of the tournament. Talking to Mid-Day after India's victory in the World Cup final, Tendulkar said the prospect of lifting the Cup in front of his home crowd had motivated him through tough times.
"That [winning the World Cup at the Wankhede Stadium] was my dream after we lost in 2007," Tendulkar said. "I took up that challenge. I said, the next World Cup is in Mumbai and this is where I would want the trophy. It was a challenge and I started working towards that. After the 2007 World Cup when we got to know that the next one is in India and the final would be held in Mumbai. That is when I felt that this is the place where we have to lift the trophy."
Tendulkar admitted the 2007 exit, which came on the back of a patch of poor personal form was the toughest phase of his career. "Yeah, it was really tough," Tendulkar said. "My family and friends really supported me at that stage. It was probably the toughest phase of my career and I was really demoralised. Talking about the World Cup in India at that time was something which motivated me. The final in Mumbai, that was greater motivation because here is where I grew up playing cricket. I wanted to do something really, really special here in India and Mumbai."
Tendulkar said MS Dhoni's winning hit in the final was the most unforgettable moment of the campaign. "The moment the winning runs were scored, I jumped," he said. "Viru [Virender Sehwag] who was next to me, jumped too. We were sitting in the dressing room and praying."
India's win included hard-fought victories against each of the former World Cup champions. Tendulkar scored two centuries in losing causes, but rated his chancy 85 against Pakistan as his most important contribution. Tendulkar recalled a couple of critical moments in that game, which India went on to win and extend their unbeaten record against Pakistan in World Cups.
Sachin had a very interesting observation: Indian cricketers from small towns are making their presence felt in a big way in international cricket, and Sachin feels these players are a bit "more motivated" to make it big. "I think the players from the smaller towns sacrifice a bit more for developing their cricketing skills. They are a bit more motivated to make it big."
Sachin rated MS Dhoni as the best captain he has played under during his 22-year cricket career. Dhoni had earlier said what the rest of the world already knew:
Sachin Tendulkar also spoke about about his finest memories of the 2011 World Cup where he finally fulfilled his lifetime dream of lifting the coveted trophy:
Unforgettable dressing room moment: The moment the winning runs were scored, I jumped. Viru (Sehwag) who was next to me, jumped too. We were sitting in the dressing room and praying.
Unforgettable part of the celebrations: When we got the trophy in our hands and the popping of champagne. Also, when the team lifted me with the tri-colour in my hand. That was the ultimate feeling.
Unforgettable innings that you played: I was batting really well against South Africa, but in terms of importance, it's got to be the one against Pakistan.
Unforgettable innings from your teammates: There were many! The one Viru played in the first game against Bangladesh, Yuvraj Singh played many, Suresh Raina, Gautam Gambhir, Virat Kohli... all the guys chipped in.
Unforgettable bowling spell: Zaheer Khan bowled some very important spells. In the semi-final, Ashish Nehra bowled well. Munaf got some important wickets too. Harbhajan Singh and R Ashwin bowled well too. Everyone has chipped in. That is why I call it a thorough team performance. Everyone did their job and somewhere they made an impact.
Unforgettable captaincy move: We set a 6-3 field against Pakistan at Mohali. Their opening batsman, Mohammad Hafeez tried to play a sweep shot off Munaf Patel and got caught behind. I thought that was the turning point of the match.
Unforgettable catch: The one Viru caught off Shahid Afridi. The match was very much alive then because Misbah & Afridi were batting and we needed two-three big overs at that stage, so that was an important catch. An easy one, but important.
Unforgettable tense moment: There were many moments when we were really tense especially in the last three matches....we knew there would be no second chance. There were many moments like that.
For me, this was the most unforgettable moment of the victory celebrations:
Sachin Tendulkar walked out of the changing room and gestured to Sudhir Gautam to come up. Gautam is the thin, pale man with a shaven head and body covered in the Indian tri-colour. He is the man you would have seen recently with a miniature replica of the World Cup hanging atop his head. For at least half a decade now, Gautam has been Tendulkar's biggest fan, waving the Indian flag and blowing his conch shell at every venue Tendulkar plays. On Saturday, Tendulkar decided to repay Gautam for his devotion.
No sooner had he realised that Tendulkar was calling, than Gautam jumped the electronic advertising hoarding and then skipped up the 30-odd stairs on to the corridor of the Indian changing room. All through his short journey he screamed in delight. Tendulkar shook hands with him, then embraced him and finally asked one of his teammates to get the World Cup trophy. Zaheer Khan brought the cup outside with utmost care and held it tight. Gautam virtually snatched it out of the hands of the tournament's joint-highest wicket-taker. But Zaheer held on to the crown still. Eventually Gautam lifted the Cup with both hands as Zaheer let go. As soon as Gautam lifted the Cup and screamed "Indiaa", Tendulkar could not help but smile. He even clapped and was joined in appreciation by a few of his teammates. The sweat on Tendulkar's face glistened under the floodlights, enhancing his joy of winning the World Cup. It was a day when the common man felt he was part of something special. (Read the full story at: http://sports.ndtv.com/world-cup-2011/news/item/171558-indias-cup-of-joy-overflows)
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For the record, here's how WC2011 went for SRT: Thought the most outstanding virtue of SRT is his conduct and dignity; to handle all the adulation and expectation and still have his feet on the ground is perhaps a bigger achievement than the hordes of batting records that he holds. But then, as fans, we love his records too... Here are His innings at World Cup 2011 and his 2 Centuries. (Click on the photos to zoom in)
Further, the batting legend , while achieving the magical figure of 99 international hundreds during the India-South Africa Group B match in Nagpur, became the first one to score 20 One-day International (ODI) centuries in his home country. Sachin made an Indian record for most sixes in ODIs, taking his sixes’ tally to 193, bettering Sourav Ganguly’s tally of 190. (Shahid Afridi (289) holds a record followed by Sanath Jayasuriya (270) and Sachin Tendulkar (193))
The master blaster also has become the first to complete 2,000 runs against South Africa. Sachin has now complete 2,000 runs against four countries in ODIs - South Africa, Australia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka.
So with the World Cup lifted, it's truly been 21 years of glory. With 51 Test tons, 48 ODI tons and nearly 33,000 runs in the bag, here's what his incredible record currently looks like:
What's left then? For starters, a century at Lords - the Honours Board at Lords has his name missing. Heck even Ajit Agarkar has his name on it! It could happen this July.
And maybe, round it off with Mumbai Indians lifting the IPL and even the Champions League T20? That would kill two irritating arguments against the man - one, on his captaincy and two, on his age, retirement, ability of veterans to play T20, et all!
But the one I wish for the most is a test match triple century... he has six double hundreds (it would have been seven if not for Rahul Dravid's abrupt declaration in the Multan Test in 2004, which left SRT stranded only six runs short of a double century. Tendulkar, batting on 194 in the first Test against archrivals Pakistan, left no one in doubt that "he felt let down", Wright says in his just-published book Indian Summers. "The matter became a full-fledged sensation when Tendulkar told a press conference he was disappointed not to get his double century. He'd been playing for India since he was 16; he'd stood up for his country in bad times and tough conditions, and often been the only man to do so. Having given so much for the team, over such a long period, he probably thought this was one time the team could give something back to him. Even the greatest have their goals and dreams and milestones, and a double century against Pakistan in Pakistan would have been a memory to treasure.")
Well at least for now, Lara's 400 is safe. But India is visiting Brian's part of town this summer - if wishes were horses, eh?
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