Dear Sachin,
It has been a while since we spoke. To be honest, we’ve
never spoken… which was working extremely well for us. You kept performing on
the field while keeping a (mostly) dignified silence off it and I reveled in
your achievements. Until now. You see, over the past few months, things have
changed between us. And I wanted to share my thoughts with you instead of
letting them fester inside.
A long, long time ago, even before you debuted for India, you had
a fan, admirer and defender in me. We played briefly in a Harris Shield match –
I was carrying drinks for my school team, while you were smashing them to all
corners of the Azad maidan. Ok, so we didn't actually play, but I’ve told too
many people that I played against you for me to change my story after all these
years! Sorry, I digress.
As you reached for your place among the cricketing gods,
slowly but surely, your success began to translate into consistent wins for the
Indian cricket team. We'd seen glimpses of your individual wonder – against Pakistan, England
and Australia;
but the team’s results still lagged often in stark contrast to your
performances. By the late 90s however, the tide began to turn. We started
winning consistently. First at home and like home conditions of Sharjah, Sri Lanka
and Bangladesh.
Then overseas. We became contenders, no longer playing to compete – we played
to win.
I don’t know if you noticed, but I haven’t specifically
mentioned your great innings or the beauty of your technique and stroke play.
They have their place too, but it was the victories that we cherished over all
else. And through all those victories, you were humility personified. You
played for the team. Yes you were always important, but the team was
pre-eminent. Team results mattered more than individual records. To top it all,
we finally became world champions again in 2011 – things couldn’t get any
better that!
And they didn't. They got worse. Much worse. Very quickly.
We were thrashed in England,
Australia
and narrowly beat the Windies. But all through this, the focus was on just one
result – scoring your international century of centuries. After over a year you
ended our misery.
Lo and behold – the 100th 100 arrived! The century to beat
all centuries was delivered – and it wasn’t even good enough to beat Bangladesh.
Within a year, the world champions couldn’t even reach the finals of the Asian
championship.
This is where things got out of hand. During losses in England and Australia, we never saw or heard
from you. You were like a hermit, cocooned in your thoughts and preparations. With
the 100 under your belt however, you finally emerged to address us.
We were out of the tournament and had fallen dramatically in
cricketing terms, so I expected you to reassure us - “..worry no more. The
decline was temporary, made worse by the distraction of my meaningless
milestone. But things are going to be back on track now. The team can get on
with its journey. I however, would like to take my leave. It’s taken a year or
so more than I wanted, but I hope you allow the indulgence. So long and thanks
for the Ferrari!”
Those were the words I thought you wanted to share with us.
Alas, you had different thoughts.
“Retirement?!? You’d rather call me selfish! I’m at the
peak, why should I quit now? The team needs me. I love playing the game and
that’s the most important thing.”
There have been parties, platitudes, awards, felicitations.
Any tamasha that could be thought of has been performed. Heck, someone even
made you a Member of Parliament.
Here’s a sobering thought which I never thought I’d have to
mention to you – Boss, hume ab maaf karo. Please stop acting like the guest who
has overstayed their welcome.
What are you playing for? The World Cup – Done (bonus - at home in Mumbai!!!). Test
hundreds everywhere – Done. ODI double hundred – Done. Hundred in the 4thinnings guiding Indiato a win – Done. Leaving the game at your peak with an amazing sense of
accomplishment – NOT Done.
Going forward, I wish you the very best as you create more
meaningless records, give none of your attention to any legislation debated in
the national Parliament and ensure your cricketing existence continues to be
marginalised.
I am certain, your fans will continue with their blind
support for you – except me. I’m sorry, it’s not you… it’s me. When the circus
around the sport matters more than the sport itself, I tune out. I am sure we’ll
never be friends, but if you want to, my comments section is always open for
you.
Yours truly,
HD
3 comments:
Ah well, a subject that'll render endless debate! For me, it's a classic head v/s heart battle.
The head says he's achieved everything, has carved himself as an unsurpassable role model so best to go when he's on top. One should rather go when the people ask why than when they ask when. Then comes the argument about shouldn't India have someone like him in a middle order that's going to be left exposed with the retirement of the Wall, decline of VVS & the fallacy of having them covered by a young brigade that has chiselled its talent in the slam bang version rather than having spent hard tenacious hours at the crease against some incisive, ruthless bowling? The counter to that of course is the young guns need to be blooded in sooner or later so why not now when India plays a rich part of the oncoming season at home albeit against quality opposition? This will give them a flavour of things to come & fine tune their talent.
The heart says leave the 'great' (in true sense of the word; often used& hence gets diluted) man alone & let him pick & choose his swansong. Don't a billion hearts still beat for him? So what if he has nothing left to prove, won't you still travel miles to see his straight drive or that caress through the off-side? The legend of Tendulkar has grown & attained a Demi-God status not just for his feats on the field but because he represents a world where a middle-class Indian can become a world-beater by talent & hardwork alone, because he showed how you can win, because no one can & will carry such a weight of expectations for so long with aplomb and because to the modern India he remains a source of inspiration.
So let the God just be. When it's time you can trust him to leave with grace!
Agree with Abhishek. I dread the day when SRT decides to finally say good bye to the game. That would probably be the day i finally give up on cricket.
His recent actions indicate that he has already given up on cricket. He doesn't have the commitment to the game or the team. If he did, he wouldn't pick the IPL in 2011 over the test matches in the West Indies. Neither would he skip the upcoming tour to Lanka. On top of all that, he's become an MP. God has left the building, all we are left with is an impostor...
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