So, it is finally here. The second test of the Sachin
Tendulkar test series, his final one in whites, his final appearance for the
country in a cricket field. It is a time for reflection, for applause and above
all, for emotion. You can see the outpouring of emotion coming from all wakes
of life - I have spent the past few days reading article after article from
person after person whose was either directly involved with Tendulkar or whose
life was immeasurably enriched by the presence of the Master in their daily life - a living deity beamed into their rooms.
At this time, I wish I were in Wankhede, waiting and getting
to see the Master in play one last time. It is a visceral experience like no
other – watching Tendulkar bat on his home ground. I have experienced it once. From
the moment that the second wicket falls, all eyes go to the dressing room. You see
a figure move, a tiny speck when seen from the distant galleries way above. The
shuffle is familiar to you, the adjustment of the handguard second nature. He trudges
down with a bat in his hand and the gloves not quite strapped up. As the
departing batsman walks back to the pavilion, I wonder where his mind is. Is he
thinking about his dismissal or are his thoughts drowned out by the chanting of
a name – a single name of two syllables that becomes a cry of celebration and
despair at the same time. “Sachin, Sachin”. Over and over, the voices of
thousands ring that battle cry that surely has made every visiting player in
India smile in wonder. The small figure crosses the boundary into the field,
looks up at the sun, does a few jogs and goes into his zone. Oblivious to the
burden on a billion people. He takes guard, looks around, shuffles some more
and then settles into what must be the most perfectly balanced stance of all
batsmen.
The miracle isn’t that he has scored more runs and centuries
and played more games than any other player. The miracle is that he has done so
despite the expectations placed on him. When he goes onto the ground one last
time in Wankhede, I wonder what will go through his mind. Will he let himself
go despite a life spent in restraint? Will he allow the world to seep in for a
change rather than shut the noise out?
Tendulkar may not succeed in his last game. The odds are
against him. With all this pressure, with all the hype, with all the emotion
and his own divorce from the game after a quarter of a century at the highest
level, the odds are certainly against him scoring big. But again, if he scores
a duck, it will serve as poetic justice. Bradman would be proud. It doesn't matter. As Dhoni said, the important thing is that he enjoys his last match. We all sure will. It is a celebration of a career spent in service of the game and the country.
I won’t label myself a sentimental fellow, but I won’t be
surprised if I my eyes turned misty sometime over the next five days. Thank you
for all the memories, Sachin.
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