For,
a genius Sachin certainly is. A genius not just at his game, but even
in having managed perceptions and walking away with his image and
dignity intact from a game mired in controversy.
It does not
matter whether he exits with a whimpering 10 or a blast of a century.
What matters is that the man has had a great innings and has walked the
earth wearing a halo. What matters is that he has rewritten cricketing
history, and possibly, the history of hero worship too; he has created
records, challenged himself and the world, averted controversy, and in
an era when the game is mired in corruption, risen above all that is
dirty with it. And, above all, Sachin has maintained as low a profile as
a man constantly in the focus of world media possibly can.
As
Sachin turns his back on the media and public glare, he may have his
regrets, but he can also walk away with the satisfaction of having been
able to skirt controversies and walk away with his image and dignity
intact. For today, more important than being a clean person is to be
able to keep your image squeaky clean. The best marketers and image merchants have been known to falter and suffer a loss of face, but not Sachin.
What
made Sachin the ‘God’ of cricket? In what way was he better than some
of his contemporaries? Was it talent, opportunity or destiny that made
the diminutive hero walk taller than the rest? What makes a man a hero
anyway? Ideally, a hero should be a person who performs a selfless duty
for others, in the face of danger, without hope of profit. But in an era
starved of heroes, we latch onto anyone who is exceptionally talented
and even a mild success as our hero. And Sachin, of course, was wildly
successful.
What has been the secret of Sachin’s success and
long-lasting hero worship?
To begin with, Sachin’s is the story of a man
who came up the hard way, a shining example of merit eclipsing all
odds. A child cricketing prodigy, his hard work and respect for his
profession have lasted an entire career. Even at the top of his career,
Sachin never took the game lightly, nor his success too seriously. It is
when we start taking our image and ourselves seriously that we falter.
We then stop acting spontaneously and make demands befitting the new
status we think we have acquired. Known for being a bully as a child,
Sachin managed to maintain an extremely modest, and even shy, mien all through his dream career.
He remained pleasant-mannered and kept his game at a level where he was above all petty politicking and controversies. He also kept his personal image clean. And so, God remained above all. He even ensured he kept his strong family man image intact. When
the need arose, he stepped out to give a firm, if rare, press statement
to protect his son, exhorting the media to leave his son alone to enjoy
the game rather than comparing him to his famous dad. Above all, Sachin
has been a hero who has constantly delivered and made us proud on the
world stage. And we desperately need such heroes to boost our pride in
this age – when huge aspirational middle-class dreams are bigger than
reality.
Perhaps the biggest reason of Sachin’s success has been
his ability to remain intensely-focussed on the game, unswayed by
praise or criticism, and to have his feet firmly planted on the ground,
always considering and thanking God first, and then his audience, for
every little and big success. And for walking away from all the
deification, still a little, modest man who towers above many others.
Source : The opinions expressed in this column are the personal views of the writer in Times of India
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For one last time, the Little Master goes on a pilgrimage
For
Sachin Tendulkar,the walk towards the pitch has always been akin to a
pilgrimage: bat tucked under the arm, with nothing but humility in his
eye, he often looked more like a devotee eager to pay obeisance to the
Almighty, rather than the conqueror that he is.
On Saturday, at
high noon, he undertook that pilgrimage one final time: the world around
him had probably turned into a blur; he had entered a ‘zone’ again,
though quite unlike the ones he transposes himself into when he is
fighting a new battle for Team India, if not Mother India.
He
must have felt those tens of millions of eyes piercing through him as he
has done for close to 25 years now, having lived the life of a
goldfish: with no place to hide. But for just this once, he may not have minded; luckily, he had already shared his plan and a swarm of security personnel had cordoned off the sanctum sanctorum.
Way
back in 1999, he had a communion with his just-departed father out in
the open, after scoring a century in the World Cup in England; today,
again, he found another private moment in the most public of places: in
front of dozens of cameras, a packed stadium and a billion television
viewers across the world. As a disbelieving audience watched, he bent
forward with all solemnity and touched the soil that gave birth and
shape to the legend called Sachin Tendulkar; he may have wanted to offer
a prayer, and maybe thank all the gods who have blessed him with so
much love and affection too; but by then, the walls around him had come
crumbling down.
Goldfish, after all, cry too.
As the tears rolled off his face, he came out of his zone and saw the spell that had been cast on the crowds: they were
chanting his name, in a familiar sing-song way that shall ‘reverberate
in his ears till he stops breathing’. They had been up on their feet for
more than two hours, just like they were on Friday when he batted for
the last time, hoping to savour one last exquisite shot.
The
chant, and the roar, reached a crescendo once again, just like it had
done each time he touched the ball, or every delivery he bowled during those
two overs on Saturday; a wicket, or indeed two more during that
extended first session, would have meant his final ball too would have
become part of history. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
All those
who have been touched by his genius could feel the void swirling around
them; the rest, who simply partook on his exploits and victories for so
many years, were reduced to sniffles. And then, there were quite a few
out there who probably didn’t really understand the magic of Sachin; but
they too were swept away by the moment, by the sentiment. A moving
guard of honour. A final lap along the boundary. One of the longest
standing ovations. Roaring crowds. Crying fans. We will probably see all
these at different times of our lives again; but may be they will not
unfold at the same time, at the same place. We will not see one thing at
a cricket ground again though: Sachin’s walk to the middle. His
pilgrimage.
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MySAR for 18th November
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