The fact that everyone knew it would come soon makes it no less agonizing when it arrives; Like a close family member suffering from a terminal disease you know the end is near but there are still tears when the end comes.
For India's greatest cricketer, the end had come at the conclusion of the second test of the series against the West Indies. Sachin Tendulkar had played his 200th and last Test in a career that spanned 24 glorious years, in which he has broken batting records aplenty and inspired millions of his countrymen.
But while the dejection at his impending departure can scarcely be stifled, the more appropriate feeling, though this may seem counterintuitive, should be that of appreciation. Every age throws up its champions; names like Brian Lara, Sourav Ganguly, Glenn McGrath, Ricky Ponting, Rahul Dravid, VVS Laxman, Shane Warne and Dale Steyn, among others, will be with us as long as the great game lasts. Tendulkar has been one of the very best of his time and we are fortunate to have observed such a master as he engaged in the business of making runs.
The world first took notice of Tendulkar as a 16-year-old wunderkind who was destined for greatness. At an age when most of us were grappling with the trials of approaching adulthood, he was playing test cricket for his country, sharing the game's biggest stage with men who were already legends.
The runs didn't flood in right away, but before we were tempted to wonder what the fuss was about there was a hundred at Old Trafford on the 1990 English tour. Two more came on the 1991-92 tour of Australia, including an exquisite 114 in the lion's den at Perth while everything crumbled around him. There could be no denying his quality now, and Tendulkar would go on to build a statistical edifice that will be near impossible to surpass. He was relentless in his run scoring - a glutton who squeezed the maximum out of every run-gathering opportunity. His level of skill was almost otherworldly. In studied defence his blade appeared broader than any in the game. His push through mid-on, especially in his early days, was as bankable a shot as the game has known. If he were a bit discomfited by the short ball in the beginning, he grew to the point where he could beat back the likes of Brett Lee at his fastest, and spin bowlers, even of the caliber of Shane Warne, knew that their best offerings might still be dominated by the "Little Master."
In terms of both magnitude and intensity, the boy from Mumbai attracted a level of devotion unlike anything ever experienced in sport in India. But this level of hero-worship was invasive and forced Tendulkar into a kind of cocoon from which he could seldom escape. Peaceful moments in public became impossible and only darkness and disguise allowed him any semblance of normal activity in communal spaces.
I am not qualified to make this judgment, but this state of affairs might have imposed a level of discipline upon the batting master that served him well in the exercise of his craft. Even as he strove to subjugate his opposition, the tight control was always apparent.
Prior to a test match against the West Indies at Perth, Australian Kim Hughes vowed to resist the risky hook shot until, he said, "I am 150 and we were 3-330." Early in his innings, however, Michael Holding fed him a bouncer which he hooked down Malcolm Marshall's throat at deep square leg, 146 runs earlier than he promised.
In 2004, Tendulkar decided to put away the cover drive in Sydney, after falling to the stroke in Melbourne when he seemed set for a big score. Eighty-two runs in five innings was well below the standards he had set for himself, and he was determined make things right. If shunning the off side drive was what he felt was best for his game at the time then that is what he would do. The result was 613 minutes at the crease for 241 runs without a single drive through the covers. Even as Laxman enchanted the gathering with drives through the off side and all round the park, Tendulkar remained resolute, never once departing from his pledge, though the temptation to do so must have been considerable.
From getting excited in 1994 when he made his then-highest Test score of 179 to feeling cheated when he was not awarded the Man-of-the-series in the 1996 World Cup for being the highest and classiest scorer in the tournament. From remembering the painful struggle he went through as captain in 1997 - when he had to battle not only opponents but officials as well - to feeling exhilarated throughout much of 1998, as the destroyer in Tendulkar returned to quell not just Australians but sandstorms too on an unforgettable night in Sharjah. From having our hearts broken along with his when he miscued a Saqlain doosra in the Chennai Test of 1999 to having our faith in the game restored during the match-fixing scandal, when it was revealed that bookies would take bets on Indian matches only after he got out.
From remembering the 2003 World Cup as an image forever frozen of Tendulkar cutting Shoaib Akhtar over third-man for maximum to shaking our heads in disbelief in 2004 at the amazing self-control and discipline of a man who did not play a single cover drive in an innings of 241 not out.
From exulting with him at burying the ghost of 'finishing' matches for India in the CB series in 2008 to the sharing his solemn joy and humility at bringing a Test victory to the nation immediately after his city had been ravaged by scum towards the end of the year.
Through proxy-wars and floods, through terrorist attacks and droughts, through living under corrupt politicians and battling for survival at work or school - through it all, it was one man that brought us hope. One man who needed only to wield a bat to unite the most diverse country in the world. A hero who did not need a script, arc-lights and endless retakes to have the audience gasping in awe, but played out his dramas in real-time.
A credible argument could be advanced that India's heartbeat should have hung up his helmet some time ago. It is undisputed that his powers have seriously waned; his movements at the crease have not been as assured as they were in his prime; his defences have been too frequently breached; and runs that once flowed like the Ganges have slowed to a trickle.
Not that he hasn't suffered bad patches before: A poor run of form that began in 2004 never really ended until sometime in 2007. But it was followed by the most productive period in his career. This time, however, is different. The great man is now 40, and though cricket has occupied most his waking hours (and probably much of his sleeping ones as well) since he was born, retirement could not be deferred much longer. If, in the final analysis, it was delayed for him to reach the landmark of 200 tests, then no one was more deserving of such a historical achievement.
So, as the time nears for us to bid farewell to one of the game's greatest, it is normal that his departure from the middle will cause some sadness. His fabulous speech today must have surely brought tears to each and everyone who watched it. It's probably the most emotional and inspiring speech we are gonna get in a long time. Humility was the only word that came to my mind when SRT walked all alone and paid reverence to the 22 yards where he had spent 24 years of his life. A memory to etch. We all definitely feel sad that its curtains down for him but let us also rejoice in the fact that we were able to witness the artistry of Tendulkar, and that technology gave us a front row view of greatness unfolding before our eyes.
Finally I would like to say - Batman puts on a cape, Spiderman wears a costume, Superman sheds his normal clothes to reveal his true self - Sachin Tendulkar needs only to pick up a bat in hand to be a superhero.
#ThankYouSachin
For India's greatest cricketer, the end had come at the conclusion of the second test of the series against the West Indies. Sachin Tendulkar had played his 200th and last Test in a career that spanned 24 glorious years, in which he has broken batting records aplenty and inspired millions of his countrymen.
But while the dejection at his impending departure can scarcely be stifled, the more appropriate feeling, though this may seem counterintuitive, should be that of appreciation. Every age throws up its champions; names like Brian Lara, Sourav Ganguly, Glenn McGrath, Ricky Ponting, Rahul Dravid, VVS Laxman, Shane Warne and Dale Steyn, among others, will be with us as long as the great game lasts. Tendulkar has been one of the very best of his time and we are fortunate to have observed such a master as he engaged in the business of making runs.
The world first took notice of Tendulkar as a 16-year-old wunderkind who was destined for greatness. At an age when most of us were grappling with the trials of approaching adulthood, he was playing test cricket for his country, sharing the game's biggest stage with men who were already legends.
The runs didn't flood in right away, but before we were tempted to wonder what the fuss was about there was a hundred at Old Trafford on the 1990 English tour. Two more came on the 1991-92 tour of Australia, including an exquisite 114 in the lion's den at Perth while everything crumbled around him. There could be no denying his quality now, and Tendulkar would go on to build a statistical edifice that will be near impossible to surpass. He was relentless in his run scoring - a glutton who squeezed the maximum out of every run-gathering opportunity. His level of skill was almost otherworldly. In studied defence his blade appeared broader than any in the game. His push through mid-on, especially in his early days, was as bankable a shot as the game has known. If he were a bit discomfited by the short ball in the beginning, he grew to the point where he could beat back the likes of Brett Lee at his fastest, and spin bowlers, even of the caliber of Shane Warne, knew that their best offerings might still be dominated by the "Little Master."
In terms of both magnitude and intensity, the boy from Mumbai attracted a level of devotion unlike anything ever experienced in sport in India. But this level of hero-worship was invasive and forced Tendulkar into a kind of cocoon from which he could seldom escape. Peaceful moments in public became impossible and only darkness and disguise allowed him any semblance of normal activity in communal spaces.
I am not qualified to make this judgment, but this state of affairs might have imposed a level of discipline upon the batting master that served him well in the exercise of his craft. Even as he strove to subjugate his opposition, the tight control was always apparent.
Prior to a test match against the West Indies at Perth, Australian Kim Hughes vowed to resist the risky hook shot until, he said, "I am 150 and we were 3-330." Early in his innings, however, Michael Holding fed him a bouncer which he hooked down Malcolm Marshall's throat at deep square leg, 146 runs earlier than he promised.
In 2004, Tendulkar decided to put away the cover drive in Sydney, after falling to the stroke in Melbourne when he seemed set for a big score. Eighty-two runs in five innings was well below the standards he had set for himself, and he was determined make things right. If shunning the off side drive was what he felt was best for his game at the time then that is what he would do. The result was 613 minutes at the crease for 241 runs without a single drive through the covers. Even as Laxman enchanted the gathering with drives through the off side and all round the park, Tendulkar remained resolute, never once departing from his pledge, though the temptation to do so must have been considerable.
From getting excited in 1994 when he made his then-highest Test score of 179 to feeling cheated when he was not awarded the Man-of-the-series in the 1996 World Cup for being the highest and classiest scorer in the tournament. From remembering the painful struggle he went through as captain in 1997 - when he had to battle not only opponents but officials as well - to feeling exhilarated throughout much of 1998, as the destroyer in Tendulkar returned to quell not just Australians but sandstorms too on an unforgettable night in Sharjah. From having our hearts broken along with his when he miscued a Saqlain doosra in the Chennai Test of 1999 to having our faith in the game restored during the match-fixing scandal, when it was revealed that bookies would take bets on Indian matches only after he got out.
From remembering the 2003 World Cup as an image forever frozen of Tendulkar cutting Shoaib Akhtar over third-man for maximum to shaking our heads in disbelief in 2004 at the amazing self-control and discipline of a man who did not play a single cover drive in an innings of 241 not out.
From exulting with him at burying the ghost of 'finishing' matches for India in the CB series in 2008 to the sharing his solemn joy and humility at bringing a Test victory to the nation immediately after his city had been ravaged by scum towards the end of the year.
Through proxy-wars and floods, through terrorist attacks and droughts, through living under corrupt politicians and battling for survival at work or school - through it all, it was one man that brought us hope. One man who needed only to wield a bat to unite the most diverse country in the world. A hero who did not need a script, arc-lights and endless retakes to have the audience gasping in awe, but played out his dramas in real-time.
A credible argument could be advanced that India's heartbeat should have hung up his helmet some time ago. It is undisputed that his powers have seriously waned; his movements at the crease have not been as assured as they were in his prime; his defences have been too frequently breached; and runs that once flowed like the Ganges have slowed to a trickle.
Not that he hasn't suffered bad patches before: A poor run of form that began in 2004 never really ended until sometime in 2007. But it was followed by the most productive period in his career. This time, however, is different. The great man is now 40, and though cricket has occupied most his waking hours (and probably much of his sleeping ones as well) since he was born, retirement could not be deferred much longer. If, in the final analysis, it was delayed for him to reach the landmark of 200 tests, then no one was more deserving of such a historical achievement.
So, as the time nears for us to bid farewell to one of the game's greatest, it is normal that his departure from the middle will cause some sadness. His fabulous speech today must have surely brought tears to each and everyone who watched it. It's probably the most emotional and inspiring speech we are gonna get in a long time. Humility was the only word that came to my mind when SRT walked all alone and paid reverence to the 22 yards where he had spent 24 years of his life. A memory to etch. We all definitely feel sad that its curtains down for him but let us also rejoice in the fact that we were able to witness the artistry of Tendulkar, and that technology gave us a front row view of greatness unfolding before our eyes.
Finally I would like to say - Batman puts on a cape, Spiderman wears a costume, Superman sheds his normal clothes to reveal his true self - Sachin Tendulkar needs only to pick up a bat in hand to be a superhero.
#ThankYouSachin
