Something curious happened in the wake of Sachin Tendulkar's 100th hundred.
After the moment the cricket world had waited so long for, came another
moment the cricket world had waited equally patiently for-Sachin spoke.
Then he spoke again.
It's petty to bring something like this up when something so significant has been achieved, but hang in here, for in the pettiness can be found the DNA of something far more significant. In the immediate aftermath of the extraordinary achievement against Bangladesh, Tendulkar was as humble and as endearing as ever at the press conference. His greatness with the bat is matched by his humility at the microphone.
He denied, as he has often, that he is God, pointed out that he was in every way human and that the 369 days between his 99th and 100th century had reminded him just how significant a triple figure score can be for mere mortals. He admitted he, like all of us, was frustrated by his inability to get there any earlier. Then, strangely, word got out that he would speak again. Barely 12 hours had passed, but reporters raced to the appointed place, well ahead of the appointed time, to probe the Little Master.
It's impossible not to fawn to some degree when in the presence of somebody like Tendulkar. He is in rare company, a man who has achieved a level of greatness beyond most. It is impossible not to suspect that like a guru, he has somehow achieved a level of higher sporting consciousness and that if you could just find the right question, he might give us all a clue as to how to attain it. Somebody presented him with a cake, he was dressed casually, ate a slice of the offering and, as usual, he was polite and happy to answer any question.
Journalist Siddarth Ravindran wrote a small report on the cosy gathering, noting that Tendulkar had, earlier press conference aside, not spoken to the media for a year and concluded by observing: "The promised 15 minutes was stretched to 20, at which point the media manager ended the interaction. Those hoping to get Tendulkar's views on the defeats in England and Australia, or even the March 18 key match against Pakistan, were disappointed. Before being ushered out, several journalists, even those who had recently questioned Tendulkar's place in the team, lined up for autographs."
There were big issues that needed to be addressed. The issue of the senior players had begun to burn out of control. Rahul Dravid had done the honourable thing and retired a few days before Tendulkar achieved his milestone. There was, however, no invitation to offer salutations on his passing, just as there was no invitation to find an answer to the ongoing problem of how the change-over from Dravid's pack of "creaking Terminators" to the youngsters, who were beginning to demand a place in the middle, should be handled. Nobody even dared raise the issue of harmony or the lack of it.
In Australia, most knew that Tendulkar scored his 100th hundred, but only few realised that it was for a losing cause, or that the slow rate was part of the reason India lost the game to Bangladesh. The milestone had eclipsed all sensible appraisal of the team's performance and in this fact lies a great worry. The individual should never be allowed to overshadow the team, but this is what had happened at a number of levels.
It is true that even if Tendulkar is partly to blame for that loss, he cannot shoulder singular responsibility for India's failures. There is suspicion that at times, in Australia, his batting seized up as the milestone approached, and that his tempo was interrupted by the distraction of his own score and not the side's, but there was a bigger issue. "I wish there was someone to guide me about how to deal with this," he said, talking about dealing with the
expectation surrounding his reluctant milestone. Perhaps, he too didn't know what he should do when the wheels began to wobble and then roll away from Team India in Australia.
Michael Atherton does not offer negative comments lightly but he was moved to criticise the effect a personal milestone had taken on Tendulkar's cricket. "The wait had not only become tiresome, it had also shone a harsh light on Tendulkar himself and what is motivating him to continue," he wrote in The Times of London. "There are many reasons for playing the game, but, as (Ian) Chappell pointed out, the main one should always be to try to help your teammates to win games. Other considerations - financial, the challenge and especially personal statistics - should come second to that.
Tendulkar's recent struggles suggest a man a little too self-absorbed for his own good and that of his team. For the past year, it has been as if the Indian team has been in limbo, while Tendulkar stalked his milestone."
The England and Australian campaigns were calamitous. Much was made of the difficulties the batsmen had with local conditions but no such excuse can be made for missing the final of the Asia Cup.
Tendulkar is not a man who can comfortably wear a leader's cloak, we knew this when he handed back the captaincy to concentrate on his own game many years before. Neither is he a selfish man, but these times demanded that he step outside his comfort zone. Still, when all that's said and done, there is an overwhelming urge to fall slack-jawed at his feet in awe of his quiet achievements, especially when one considers the overwhelming din of expectation and veneration that has surrounded his every movement. Tendulkar is more than a once-in-a-generation player.
He is a once-in-a-century event, but it is time now to think of generations and generational change.
The author is a cricket writer for The Australian. The article was published in the India Today issue dated March 27-April 2, 2012
It's petty to bring something like this up when something so significant has been achieved, but hang in here, for in the pettiness can be found the DNA of something far more significant. In the immediate aftermath of the extraordinary achievement against Bangladesh, Tendulkar was as humble and as endearing as ever at the press conference. His greatness with the bat is matched by his humility at the microphone.
He denied, as he has often, that he is God, pointed out that he was in every way human and that the 369 days between his 99th and 100th century had reminded him just how significant a triple figure score can be for mere mortals. He admitted he, like all of us, was frustrated by his inability to get there any earlier. Then, strangely, word got out that he would speak again. Barely 12 hours had passed, but reporters raced to the appointed place, well ahead of the appointed time, to probe the Little Master.
It's impossible not to fawn to some degree when in the presence of somebody like Tendulkar. He is in rare company, a man who has achieved a level of greatness beyond most. It is impossible not to suspect that like a guru, he has somehow achieved a level of higher sporting consciousness and that if you could just find the right question, he might give us all a clue as to how to attain it. Somebody presented him with a cake, he was dressed casually, ate a slice of the offering and, as usual, he was polite and happy to answer any question.
Journalist Siddarth Ravindran wrote a small report on the cosy gathering, noting that Tendulkar had, earlier press conference aside, not spoken to the media for a year and concluded by observing: "The promised 15 minutes was stretched to 20, at which point the media manager ended the interaction. Those hoping to get Tendulkar's views on the defeats in England and Australia, or even the March 18 key match against Pakistan, were disappointed. Before being ushered out, several journalists, even those who had recently questioned Tendulkar's place in the team, lined up for autographs."
There were big issues that needed to be addressed. The issue of the senior players had begun to burn out of control. Rahul Dravid had done the honourable thing and retired a few days before Tendulkar achieved his milestone. There was, however, no invitation to offer salutations on his passing, just as there was no invitation to find an answer to the ongoing problem of how the change-over from Dravid's pack of "creaking Terminators" to the youngsters, who were beginning to demand a place in the middle, should be handled. Nobody even dared raise the issue of harmony or the lack of it.
In Australia, most knew that Tendulkar scored his 100th hundred, but only few realised that it was for a losing cause, or that the slow rate was part of the reason India lost the game to Bangladesh. The milestone had eclipsed all sensible appraisal of the team's performance and in this fact lies a great worry. The individual should never be allowed to overshadow the team, but this is what had happened at a number of levels.
It is true that even if Tendulkar is partly to blame for that loss, he cannot shoulder singular responsibility for India's failures. There is suspicion that at times, in Australia, his batting seized up as the milestone approached, and that his tempo was interrupted by the distraction of his own score and not the side's, but there was a bigger issue. "I wish there was someone to guide me about how to deal with this," he said, talking about dealing with the
expectation surrounding his reluctant milestone. Perhaps, he too didn't know what he should do when the wheels began to wobble and then roll away from Team India in Australia.
Michael Atherton does not offer negative comments lightly but he was moved to criticise the effect a personal milestone had taken on Tendulkar's cricket. "The wait had not only become tiresome, it had also shone a harsh light on Tendulkar himself and what is motivating him to continue," he wrote in The Times of London. "There are many reasons for playing the game, but, as (Ian) Chappell pointed out, the main one should always be to try to help your teammates to win games. Other considerations - financial, the challenge and especially personal statistics - should come second to that.
Tendulkar's recent struggles suggest a man a little too self-absorbed for his own good and that of his team. For the past year, it has been as if the Indian team has been in limbo, while Tendulkar stalked his milestone."
The England and Australian campaigns were calamitous. Much was made of the difficulties the batsmen had with local conditions but no such excuse can be made for missing the final of the Asia Cup.
Tendulkar is not a man who can comfortably wear a leader's cloak, we knew this when he handed back the captaincy to concentrate on his own game many years before. Neither is he a selfish man, but these times demanded that he step outside his comfort zone. Still, when all that's said and done, there is an overwhelming urge to fall slack-jawed at his feet in awe of his quiet achievements, especially when one considers the overwhelming din of expectation and veneration that has surrounded his every movement. Tendulkar is more than a once-in-a-generation player.
He is a once-in-a-century event, but it is time now to think of generations and generational change.
The author is a cricket writer for The Australian. The article was published in the India Today issue dated March 27-April 2, 2012
