The Hindu : Sport : So, we thought it would never end?

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Wednesday, Feb 08, 2006

Sport

Sport

So, we thought it would never end?

Halfway down Mount Tendulkar is still higher than most peaks in Indian cricket, writes Nirmal Shekar

So, we thought the show would last forever, smugly believed that time would remain frozen and the extra-terrestrially beautiful dream would never be interrupted.

So, feet in the air, glazed, mesmerised eyes on the object of our worship, mind willed into a sort of minimal consciousness, we came to believe that nothing can come between us and our seemingly ever-lasting enjoyment of one of the greatest spectacles sport has had to offer in this part of the world.

So, we thought that Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar landed amidst us on a UFO from another universe; that the physical laws and everyday realities of the one we live in did not apply to him; that he will forever remain the charming, invincible boy wonder who first captured our hearts from across the border 17 years ago.

Fantasy ride

Ah, what a fantasy ride! What a marvellous journey that carried us all on the wings of one little man's genius to every great emotional peak that sports-watching can possibly take us to!

But then, lost as we were in this other-world, riding the crest of a sensory tidal wave, it never struck us that the show would have to stop sometime, that we will indeed hear the fat lady sing sooner or later, that no force on earth — not even our little Mumbai superman with his magic wand — can arrest time.

The simple truth is, when it comes to Sachin, we cannot accept the truth. Fantasies and myths offer greater comfort. And it is not hard to understand why. For this is the man who helped many of us attain our sports-watching nirvana, the man who offered us a peak experience like no other.

In the event, how can we let go of something as supremely life-enhancing as that? But, firstly, how can we even bring ourselves to imagine that one day — maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in 2006, perhaps not even in 2007, and if we are truly blessed, maybe not even until the end of this decade — Sachin will not bat for us? That some day, in the future, the show will stop.

The real issue

Of course, those who suspected that it may have stopped already and, unbidden, quickly pronounced judgement were unabashedly eating their own words during the Peshawar ODI the other day. But we are hardly concerned here with reckless headline writers. The real issue has to do with the longevity of the most celebrated sporting career in this nation's history.

Unlike prescription drugs and supermarket products, sportspersons don't come with the use-by date stamped on their shirt-front. Every career, great and ordinary, goes through a process of evolution that is quite distinct although broad patterns can be gleaned from history.

Only human

And no single sportsman — not even a Bradman or an Ali or a Sampras — performed at any patented peak level from start to finish. They would not have been human if they had managed to. Limbs age, rhythms change, and even if hunger burns in the heart and mind, the carefree vigour of youth dissipates with age and maturity.

Tendulkar, in his 18th year in international cricket, stands nearer the end than the beginning; and, to accept this is not the same as joining the jarring

He's-Finished chorus.

What is more, it is only when we come to terms with this reality — that the little genius is not spring chicken anymore — that we can think of digging deeper and getting to the truth that matters more than anything else, something that is the real measure of the man's greatness.

Simple truth

That truth, like all great truths in life, is very simple — halfway down Mount Tendulkar is still higher than most peaks in Indian cricket. A battle weary, ageing Tendulkar close to the twilight of his career can still — on his day — do things with the bat that most other batsmen can only dream of.

His batting, post-elbow surgery, may not remotely resemble the atavistic frenzy of a Sehwag or Dhoni sizzler. But Tendulkar can still back his own instincts and deliver when it matters.

But then, the point of this column is not to reaffirm faith in Tendulkar's abilities — which will seem ludicrous if attempted — but simply to remind ourselves that the great man is not going to be around forever. And while he is still at it, let us not waste time and energy debating how near — or far — the end might be.

"Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be; the last of life for which the first was made.''

Robert Browning's immortal words might ring true soon vis-a-vis our little man on whose genius we have feasted for so long and with such avaricious relish. And, believe me, the dessert is still to come.

Printer friendly page
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail