Sublime Genius and the Master Class

There was a time in late eighties, when Boris Becker likened the centre court at Wimbledon to his own backyard. Anyone would, given his fantastic record there. Dilip Vengsarkar spoke of rolling the Lords pitch and carrying it back to his hometown, Mumbai, after notching his third consecutive century in the Mecca of cricket. Sunil Gavaskar was so enamored of Port of Spain, that he dedicated a whole chapter – Trinidad, I Love You – in his autobiographical account, Sunny Days.

Sydney Cricket Ground would certainly hold a similar place in the hearts of VVS Laxman and Sachin Tendulkar.

Sublime genius
There have been very few 'Stylists' in Indian cricket over the past 75 years like ML Jaisimha, GR Vishwanath, Mohammad Azharuddin, to name a few. Outside India, I can think of only handful of players in last three decades or so, who could be called thus. David Gower, Roy Dias (Sri Lanka) and Mark Waugh spring to the mind immediately. All these players batted with such grace and finesse that they transcended the clichés used to describe their stay on the batting crease.

Even by their majestic standards, VVS Laxman stands tall, a cut above the rest and in a class of his own.

On the second day at SCG, he showed why he is the most elegant player and an impeccable timer of cricket ball. Every ball that he caressed with his magical willow, seem to suggest that there is much more to batting than just proper technique and diligence. How else could one play a ball, wide outside the offstump, to the mid wicket fence with a simple flick of wrist? Or the one pitched up, anywhere behind the bowler to the cover region? He makes batting look so ridiculously easy that lesser mortals could be excused for thinking it as all about padding up and walking to the crease, with a bat in hand.

To talk about the match situation and analyse his innings in this post would be doing a disservice to his genius. We will leave it for some other time.

But I would like to quote the Moghul Emperor Jahangir, who when so enchanted by the beauty of Kashmir valley, exclaimed:

Gar firdaus, Ruhe zamin ast, Hamin asto, Hamin asto, Hamin asto.
(If there is heaven on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here).

In cricketing parlance, if there was a great exhibition of batsmanship; it was on the second day at SCG.

Then again, one can say that for most of 'VVS Laxman special' innings!

The Master Class
Welcome back, Sachin Tendulkar. You could not have chosen a more appropriate venue to signal the return of the 'original' little master.

It was the same venue, where you hit a patient double century, four years ago. (Such woeful was your form prior to the 'Steve Waugh farewell' test, that captain Saurav Ganguly took an unprecedented step of batting at number 4 in the second innings of Melbourne test, ostensibly to shield you!) That double ton certainly helped in ending the unusually long drought of runs you were going through, but it also left behind a trail of defensive mindset, which you carried over for next four long years.

The sight of Sachin Tendulkar playing a Dravidesque innings was something, many of your fans, including yours truly, could never digest.

Whether it was your injury, or the larger team plan, or something else, we would never know, but you were stubborn in refusing to let your old avtaar take over. Although we had an occassional glimpse of aggression, like in the second test against South Africa at Durban, it was never quite same as in the series opener against same oponents, six years ago.

Still, much against our hopes, we were hoping that you would come good in Australia, the ultimate place for a cricketer to succeed. It was also to be your last hurrah in the land of World Champions. Your form in England was a good indicator to that. Even more heartening was the intent you showed in the practice match, preceeding the Boxing Day test. MCG kept the hope flickering. And Sidney Cricket Ground finally saw your reincarnation.

Gone was the tentative plodding and poking, replaced instead, with a full authoritative face of the bat, both in attack and defence. The lofted shot, which you so effectively used against the great Shane Warne in 1998, was back and so was the upper cut, way over the third man. More importantly, out went the paddle sweep, which had forced you into holding back those glorious drives and square cuts, under the false pretext of safety.

This is the Sachin Tendulkar we know, we love and have grown watching with.

Thank you for these memorable moments, Sachin. It has been a previledge watching you bat at the SCG.

Legacy

Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar both started as quintessential middle class Maharashtrians. Gavaskar played his early cricket in Chikalwadi and Tendulkar grew up playing at Sahitya Sahawas, the abode of Marathi Saraswats (intelligentsia).

Their cricketing exploits are well documented. But beyond the cricketing field, they have pioneered and abetted in their own way, a process of frenzied commercialization of the game. A legacy which subjects these players to alternate deification and vilification.

When Gavaskar started his career, team India had achieved little noteworthy in the preceding 40 years of international cricket. His advent coincided with two of India’s most famous overseas wins in West Indies and England. Gavaskar, in fact, played a huge part in the former. He was catapulted to stardom overnight. Not that there weren’t many stars before him, but Gavaskar challenged and demolished the stereotypical image of an Indian cricket star. He used his fame to commercially venture into areas that were never tapped by an Indian cricketer before. For some Indians entrenched in a socialist mindset, it was akin to desecration of the sacred game of cricket. After all, was cricket not played for the love of it?

Mihir Bose in his book ‘A Maidan View – The Magic of Indian Cricket’, devotes an entire chapter titled ‘The Besieged Hero’ to Gavaskar. He writes:

Indians respect Gavaskar but they also fear him. He is not for instance, able to invoke the sort of warmth that was accorded to Kapil Dev or his own brother in law, Vishwanath.

Bose quotes MAK Pataudi from the article ‘The decline of Indian cricket’. Writes MAK,

Gavaskar opened up entire new vistas of making money. He had noticed how quickly cricketers once out of the limelight were actually shunned by the same people who had fussed over them, fought for the pleasure of inviting them home and queued to have photographs taken with them. In Bombay only money seemed to matter, and there was more than one way to make it. Gavaskar found them all. Advertising, film producing, writing articles (on the same match, but for different publications), taking fee for organizing matches, writing instant books which were spiced to sell better, appearance money and signing contracts with manufacturers of sports equipment. He became the first millionaire through cricket, rich enough to buy a flat in the centre of Bombay. In a capitalist cricketing country, he would have been considered a genius. In India they began to call him a mercenary, and within the team he became the envy of some of who felt that their contribution to Indian cricket was not much appreciated. Why should Gavaskar hog all the publicity as well as the money? The answer was simple: he had reached those dizzy heights to which no Indian cricketer in his right mind would even dream of aspiring. As importantly, he was articulate where others were dumb, he was controversial where other dared not to be, he could even be witty and this made him ideal material for the media and advertiser.

What Gavaskar started, Tendulkar took to another level. Sachin was fortunate that within two years of making his international debut, India had shed its socialist mindset to become a free economy. Economy, that celebrated entrepreneurial spirit. Sachin was shrewd enough to capitalize on it. He wowed the Indian public, first with his Rs 200 million deal with World Tel in 1995 and then followed up with a mind boggling Rs one billion deal in the year 2000. It helped him no less that in the intervening period, Mark Mascaranhas had made BCCI aware of the gold mine they were sitting on, by successfully bagging the TV rights of 1996 world cup. Ofcourse, Sachin was also riding the crest of his batting form.

And so long as Sachin performed, his money matters remained a part of largely private domain. Tongues started wagging when there was a perceptible decline in his batting post 2002. Initial murmurs gave way to noisy talk. Fans who were previously dazzled by his multi-crore contracts, raised questions on Tendulkar’s attitude, something unthinkable five years ago.

Whereas other Indian sport icons like Sania Mirza, Leander Paes could afford to be erratic - they played an individual sport and largely controlled their own destiny – Sachin could not, for he not only played a team game but was also responsible for India’s fluctuating fortunes.

It seems remarkable therefore that, despite his recent failures, Sachin has managed to bag Rs two billion contract from Iconix, earlier this year. Harsha Bhogle dismisses questions on Tendulkar’s worth as typical ‘middle class’ ish. According to him Sachin still earns only a fraction of what the top international sportsmen and sportswomen do!

Two great cricketers, one huge legacy. Whether it bodes well or otherwise for Indian cricket, only time will tell. You can take your pick too.

Standing ovation and all that

Fittingly, it was Arun Lal on the microphone when Sachin Tendulkar pushed for a single on his way to 36th test hundred. Despite his trademark staid and drab voice, Arun Lal tried best to conjure up some excitement.

“WITH THIS SINGLE TENDULKAR COMPLETES HIS 36TH CENTURY, HIS SECOND AGAINST BANGLADESH. IT WAS AN INNINGS OF GREAT…. patience.”

When was the last time they used “Superlatives” to describe a Sachin Tendulkar test hundred? Don’t try; it will set you back by atleast three years, even more.

Tendulkar returned the compliment. He did an Arun Lal, by playing his first and the only attacking shot of an otherwise sedate, but now customary, innings. What a shame, that the very shot he was once a master playing at, and which he seldom plays these days, brought about his downfall.

I had the fortune of watching live, two of Sachin’s most memorable knocks - both first class hundreds - and both path breaking ones. First was when Sachin scored his debut century in Ranji Trophy against Gujarat. I have faint memories of this Ranji knock, but more vivid ones of the next century, nay a double century, he scored ten years later, against Mark Taylor’s Australian side at the Brabourne stadium in 1998. I remember Bombay opener Amit Pagnis - on Tendulkar’s advice - playing lofted shots against Australian bowlers, only to be followed by the master tearing apart the Aussie bowling. (I left the stadium immediately after Bombay declared their innings and rushed to Shivaji Park to attend the Sena supremo Bal Thackeray’s public meeting).

In ten years between these two knocks and further four years after the double ton, every test hundred from Sachin elicited a standing ovation from yours truly. Over the last few years though, the response has been more muted, sometimes even of disappointment. Blame it on the lofty standards set by the man himself.

I know Sachin’s centuries are coming few and far in between. We need to cherish each one of them. In next few months, India will be touring England followed by Australia later this year. I hope Sachin gives us a glimpse of some of the knocks he played at Old Trafford and Perth in his hey days.

Knocks that made him special, knocks that made us stand in appreciation of the Little Champion.