Close of play
Sachin Tendulkar’s batting graph resembled a mariner’s compass: he made a mark in all cricket playing nations, but more to the point, he could strike the ball with equal fluency to all corners of the ground ~ from the unique upper cut over the slip cordon to the delectable square cut and cover drive, the straight one like an arrow past the bowler, and the more powerful pulls, all of this punctuated with his deft trademark singles like the strokes of a miniature artist. There was never an elaborate follow through to admire his own shot. Tendulkar didn’t need to do that. He had millions of fans around the globe who did.
Despite his century of centuries, Tendulkar was never a run machine, a batsman merely bent on staying at the wicket like Geoffrey Boycott or an Alistair Cook. His inherent aggressiveness at the crease always gave the bowler a chance. This quality of risk-taking explains why he never hit a Test match triple hundred. Though he perhaps overstayed his welcome by a year or so with his reflexes slackening with age, he still epitomized the height of classical batsmanship with his impeccable forward defense, the economy of movement and the stillness of his head as he unleashed the power of his strokeplay. His last hurrah at the Wankhede stadium in his hometown of Bombay last week, a perfectly composed innings of 74, epitomized all the hallmarks of perfect batsmanship. A hundred of course would have been the proverbial icing, but let’s not forget that Don Bradman went for nought in his last Test innings. It is an interesting but ultimately futile exercise to compare great batsmen of different eras but where Tendulkar can match the Don’s astounding average of nearly a hundred per Test innings is his own unreal tally of a hundred international hundreds. It is a record never likely to be broken.
In contemporary cricket, his only rival was his friend Brian Lara, another worldclass batsman who, being a lefthander and endowed with Caribbean flair, was cut from a different cloth, far more aggressive and with a backlift all his own. Who was the better of the two will be debated for long but both were part of cricket folklore, their names enshrined in the history of the game. Tendulkar though was not short of flair and in his younger days could produce sixes almost at will. He could be also said to be the inventor of the upper cut just as Mahindra Singh Dhoni is the creator of the windmill shot (quite erroneously branded as the ‘helicopter’ shot).
In a nation starved of sporting heroes, it is not surprising that Tendulkar should be the bearer of both mantle and cross. But nearly two-and- a- half decades in any sport will take its toll, more so with the lightning reflexes needed to play in international cricket. There are indeed several players now who were not even born when Tendulkar made his Test debut all those years ago against Pakistan. But time moves on inexorably, and along with Ganguly, Dravid and Laxman, the formidable quartet of Indian batsmanship, and the imminent exit of Virender Sehwag and Gautam Gambhir, an era has indeed drawn to a close.
Other sporting nations may be somewhat bemused by India’s cathartic farewell to a champion. But the sad reality is that we do not have too many of them. In individual sports we may have a rare Vishwanathan Anand, a Leander Paes or an Abhinav Bindra. But in team sports, ever since the demise of hockey, we have only this other sport we excel in. And Sachin Tendulkar, despite the many stars who preceded him, has been the torchbearer of Indian cricket. While we may feel a little downcast in his shadow, we can also celebrate the light and halo he has left behind.
