Let me begin by admitting that I never hoped to be writing on this event now. In truth, I never expected that the event would come to pass, as it has, at this point in time, barely days after the last cricketing inscription was engraved on the Wall, and his exploits framed in gold for us to indulge our nostalgia, and for posterity to stare at in wonder. Sachin Tendulkar has announced that in his 200th career test, scheduled to be played against the West Indies next month, he will take his final bow as a professional cricketer. Unsurprisingly, this thunderclap has subdued the crackle of the news items that have broken since. The tributes, that had ebbed over the last few seasons, are gushing out, inundating every avenue of expression. The theme - if it were to be driven down the ground with the broad, open blade of a heavy bat coming straight down from the maxima of its backlift - is one of the despair experienced by a sky-gazer who has sighted the Halley's comet on his 76th birthday, yet wishes he could view an encore, knowing fully well it is too irrational to even be dubbed wishful thinking. There will not be another Sachin Tendulkar in our lifetime, and we will miss him.
It has been suggested that the right time for Tendulkar to call it a day was when India won the World Cup in 2011 on his home turf, an occasion which saw his teammates chair and parade him on a lap around the ground, in a display of gratitude, as one of the younglings claimed, for carrying India on his shoulders over the years. Whether he had faced such a thought, bowled by his sprightly mind, is a matter of conjecture, but he had gone on to say that it would not have been right for him to play that shot, not when the World Cup the nation's cricket-crazy fans had craved for had been delivered. He would have undoubtedly spread a pall over the jubilation.
The chair-and-parade ritual was repeated when the Mumbai Indians won the IPL this year. But, soon after, the Master Blaster revealed that he would no longer be taking guard in the IPL. It might have been a blow to the Mumbai Indians, but the remaining Indians were relieved that he had chosen to conserve his energy for international assignments.
October 6, 2013. Mumbai Indians emerge champions of the CLT20 competition. The chair-and-parade follows, but under the notion that he will still be seen in Indian colours. Four days later, he defies the pundits - much like he has done many a time in his career - to retire from all forms of competitive cricket.
Absurd as it may seem, one has to wonder if the victory laps in the IPL and CLT20, as against the one after the World Cup in 2011, nudged him towards his decision. In the World Cup, he had been one of the chief contributors to India's cause. Despite his reluctance to be hoisted on his peers' shoulders, he might have felt his performance had merited it, and he was, even if wrongly, being given the credit. The celebratory ritual after the conquest of the IPL and CLT20 should have been hard to stomach for a man who has always striven to give his best on a cricket field. What was being adored and revered was his reputation.
This might be discordant with the views of his devotees, but the cricket fans have missed Sachin Tendulkar for a while now. His bat that always spoke for him, and so eloquently at that, had begun to stutter, even occasionally seeming at a loss for words, especially in response to the inquest of pacy in-swingers pitched in that corridor of uncertainty. The bold strokes were there, even if they were more hesitant and less frequent than before. His works were still among the best that his contemporaries could conjure up. They were, however, no match for his own Masterpieces. Tendulkar, we can all agree, was only competing with himself. The bout must have lost its charm when he couldn't better his past attainments. Having risen to the Everest's summit you can't forever convince yourself that you will ascend into the heavens. Thank you, Sachin!
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