Sachin Tendulkar’s last stand

The Little Master's decision to hang up his gloves brought India and the cricketing world to a standstill

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At 3.32pm local time in India, as Sachin Tendulkar walked down the steps of the Mumbai Cricket Association Pavilion, bat in hand, the 32,000-strong crowd at the Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai rose as one to cheer the man who millions of cricket fans consider the greatest player of all time. This was his 200th Test match, the last before he would retire.

His mother Rajni Tendulkar was among the crowd. Seated in the VIP enclosure, it was the first time she’d ever watched her celebrity son play. For the past 24 years, while he was breaking one world record after another, she refused to watch him play live, insisting she was too nervous. Perhaps it was contagious.

As Sachin prepared to face West Indian fast bowler Shane Shillingford, it was obvious that this time he was also nervous. He jabbed at the ball, perhaps overwhelmed that more than a billion pairs of eyes were watching him play his last match on TV. But from the third delivery, which he swept away for a single, his 15,848th run of his Test career, there was no looking back.

The Little Master, a moniker Indian media gave the 1.65m-tall Sachin, 40, had got into his stride. He went on to score 74 runs before he was out.

Once again the crowd stood up to salute the man, who now has a temple in his honour in Bihar, India, and to thank him for elevating the game to new heights. But instead of basking in the ovation, Sachin rushed up to his mother.

But Sachin had something to give his mother in return for all her support and encouragement. Within hours of retiring, the Indian government awarded him the Bharat Ratna – India’s highest civilian honour – and Sachin promptly dedicated it to Rajni.

A dream journey

For Sachin, his career has been a dream journey, and standing solidly behind him and fuelling his dreams have been his family and friends. “My life has been on the 22 yards [the distance between the wickets on a cricket pitch] in the past 24 years; it’s hard to believe that it’s coming to an end,’’ he told Friday. “And in that journey, I had the support of my family, coaches, friends, players – a lot of people were with me... I find it difficult to believe that I will not play cricket again. That reality is still to sink in.

“I have no regrets that I’m leaving cricket. I just thought this was the right time to stop playing – but it was an enjoyable journey.’’

Sachin began his cricketing career as a child when his elder brother Ajit, a college-level cricketer, realised he was talented and took him to a noted local cricket coach Ramakant Achrekar. Until then, Sachin had played only with friends in the narrow lanes around the Sahitya Sahawas Cooperative Housing Society in Bandra (East) building where he lived with his father, Ramesh Tendulkar, a professor at Kirti College, Rajni and three older siblings – brothers Ajit and Nitin and sister Savita.

“Sachin was 11 at the time, and was dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts when I took him to Ramakant,’’ says Ajit. “The first piece of advice the coach gave him was to go home and return the next day wearing a pair of trousers.’’ Ramakant, keen to see that Sachin got the basics right, wanted him to be dressed in the right attire when playing.

The next day Sachin was back, in regulation white trousers and white tee. And from the moment he saw Sachin face the first ball, the coach knew he was special.

Ramakant asked Ajit to get Sachin moved from the Indian Education Society’s New English School in Bandra (East) where he was studying in class seven, to Sharadashram Vidyamandir (English) High School in Dadar, which was well known for its cricket team. “Being in a group of like-minded players is important,’’ the coach told him.

Sachin would spend around five hours a day at the Dadar Shivaji Park learning the finer points of the game.

Realising he could spend more time on the field if he lived close to the Dadar Shivaji Park, Sachin moved into his uncle’s house in Dadar.

Sachin’s parents always supported their son’s dream to play cricket professionally. “Without my father’s guidance, I wouldn’t be here,’’ says Sachin. “He told me ‘chase your dreams, but do not opt for shortcuts; don’t give up even if the path is difficult’. I’ve followed his words always and was devastated when he died of a cardiac arrest in 1999.”

Coach Ramakant, meanwhile, was determined to make Sachin the best cricketer he could. “Sometimes he used to place a one-rupee coin on the stumps when I batted,” recalls Sachin. “If a bowler dismissed me, he got to keep the coin. If I managed to defend my wicket all through the session, I got to keep the coin. I still have 13 of those coins and they are among my prized possessions.’’

Ramakant was a strict coach and a disciplinarian. One thing he wouldn’t tolerate was Sachin skipping practice sessions.

“He would insist I be at the cricket ground every morning and evening for practice,’’ says Sachin. “But one day, I decided to skip a session and go instead to the Wankhede Stadium where my school was playing a match, to cheer on my friends. The next day, Coach asked me where I’d been. I was honest and told him I’d gone to cheer for my school team. In reply I got a late cut [a slap] on my face. I never forgot that and that was the basis for my consistent hard work and discipline.”

In his first year at Dadar, Sachin debuted for his school in the Harris Shield, a prestigious inter-school tournament. He was soon among the runs, scoring centuries, double centuries and even triple centuries.

“Don’t be disappointed at not getting the Award. If you look at the award winners, you will find one name missing, but that person has not done badly in Test cricket,” he wrote, referring to himself.

Sachin, who idolised Gavaskar, was thrilled to receive the letter, which he says helped him remain grounded and not worry about awards and accolades. Gavaskar later even gave him a pair of his ultra-light pads.

In the 1987 World Cup semi-final between India and England at the Wankhede Stadium, Sachin, who was 14 at the time, was one of the ball boys dreaming to play for India. “I never imagined that by the next World Cup four years later, I’d be playing for my country,’’ he says.

Sachin’s big break came when he played a match for his school in the Harris Shield Inter School tournament on February 24, 1988. He scored an amazing unbeaten 326 and, together with his teammate, Vinod Kambli, who made 364 runs not out, put on an unbeaten 664-run partnership – a world record.

He caught the eyes of the regional cricket team selectors and in December 1988, Sachin made his first-class debut – at just 15 years and 232 days – and became the youngest Indian to score a century on debut.

The following year, on November 15, 1989, Sachin made his Test debut at the age of 16.

“I was nervous and didn’t know what was going on around me,’’ he says of facing Pakistani fast bowlers. “I thought it was a school game and I batted as if it was one. I can never forget that moment as I felt that was the first and the last Test match of my career.”

He did well, scoring 59 in the first innings against the formidable Pakistani pace bowlers. There was no looking back.

A career built on respect

Former Indian spinner Venkatapathy Raju, who has played alongside Tendulkar, summed up Sachin’s rise. “When every youngster was going to school, Tendulkar was walking out to the Test cricket arena.”

A quality that set Sachin apart from many players was the great respect he had for his cricket kit. “I never throw my bat, however disappointed I get,’’ he says. “I respect my bat and my cricketing kit a lot.”

Once when a bowler, who was frustrated after he bowled poorly, threw the ball down in anger, Tendulkar picked it up, went up to the bowler and handed over the ball to him saying, “Respect it first. Only then will it help you.”

A vital factor in Sachin’s long-lasting success was his approach to diet and exercise. He was a great fan of butter chicken, but opted to eat it only sparingly to remain fit.

“I enjoy all cuisines – Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Malaysian or Thai. But to be in good shape, I learnt you have to try to stay away from things that are not good for a sportsman.”

The day before his retirement, Sachin’s wife Anjali joked, “Tendulkar can now eat his butter chicken without having to think about cricket.”

“I also used to love going to see movies,’’ Sachin says. Once while he was dating Anjali, who was his teenage sweetheart, he even sported a beard and dark glasses so his fans would not recognise him.

“However, during the break [in the movie] my glasses slipped off and someone recognised me.’’ That triggered a near-riot situation with hundreds of people rushing for a glimpse of him and an autograph. “We had to leave the theatre in a hurry,’’ he says.

Sudhir Nayak, who played with Sachin in local leagues and shared a room with him during the matches, describes Tendulkar’s desire to give his best. “Even at nights I have seen him practise his batting stances in the room and try out different shots. I used to find him very fidgety and quite a restless boy.”

Just like his appetite for good food, Tendulkar’s hunger for runs was something that could never be appeased. His coach once said, “He has an appetite for runs more than others. It’s insatiable.”

‘75 per cent of my life is cricket’

So how has life changed for Sachin after retiring from the game?

“A lot,’’ he says. “The first day of retirement, I woke up at 6.50am and suddenly realised I didn’t have to quickly shower and get ready for a match. So I made myself a cup of tea and enjoyed a nice breakfast with my wife.

“After a relaxed morning, I spent a lot of time responding to all the messages I received.’’

What are the lessons he has for his 14-year-old-son son, budding cricketer Arjun?

“As a father, my request is please leave my son Arjun alone,’’ he says. “Don’t pressurise him to do something because I did it. If that was the case, I would have had a pen in my hand and not a bat – considering the fact that my father was a professor.

“Arjun is mad about cricket and that is what matters. About performances – I won’t put pressure on him – and you must not too. Leave any player alone and he’ll enjoy cricket.’’

As for the future, Sachin is keeping his cards close to his chest. “Cricket is my oxygen – out of the 40 years of my life, I’ve played cricket for 30. So 75 per cent of my life is cricket. There will be some association with cricket, maybe not in the immediate future though.’’

After three decades of swinging the bat, Sachin finds it difficult to come to terms with the fact that he will no longer be donning India’s colours.

“It still hasn’t struck me that I’m not going to play any more cricket,’’ he says. “But I’ll find some place to play!’’

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