Sachin Tendulkar: A Stump Cam view

Decades ago in Mumbai, then known as Bombay, a certain young lad would attend net sessions in order to practice and perfect his batting. Whenever the talented youngster began to tire, his coach would place a one rupee coin on top of the stumps. If he remained successful in guarding his wicket all day long, he had the liberty to take that coin home. He grew up to become one of the greatest sportspersons that the world has seen and still treasures all the coins that he took home. He, of course, was none other than Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

As I could not see or hear yet, I did not know about this story until someone one day held me in their hands and explained to his friend that I was one of the stumps that was used in those practise sessions. This, of course, was after I had a microphone installed on me. Sachin took home those coins but ignored me, the one thing he was trying to guard with all his life. I was glad that he did. For instead of staying locked up in a trophy cabinet somewhere, I was shipped out to many places to be used in many international matches.

I was right in the middle of the ground and in the thick of some great cricketing action. I often got names painted or wrapped around me; From Gold Spot to Samsung; from Philips to Airtel. I finally got my sight when BBC introduced the stump camera in the early 1990s and that was the greatest thing that happened in my life. Besides being more useful to the third umpire, I could witness some great cricket.

Soon I was eager to watch that special boy bat; the same boy who revered not losing his wicket back in Bombay. I wondered if he really was that special. I only got my chance to watch him bat in 1994 in Auckland against New Zealand. All my questions were answered once he started his stroke play. I had seen many a batsmen in action since I got my sight but none came close to the technique that this man had. I soon understood why he became so famous in such a short span of time. His timing and balance was impeccable. He redefined batting as the world knew it. That day he scored a brilliant century, perhaps one of his best. And all of a sudden, I realised the purpose behind my existence.

This continued for many years as I was sent from one country to another as part of the official match equipment. I liked what I did but I would only really come alive to see the maestro bat. Given the special relation between us, it was only understandable. At times, I watched him up close when he took his stance inches in front of me and, at times, I had the privilege of watching him from the non-striker’s end when they rotated ends in between overs. Standing behind him, I could see his classy footwork from up close. His batting a visual treat; but sound of the ball middling the bat that was picked up by my microphone only made me worship him more. Why wouldn’t I worship him? After all, they had already starting calling him God. He had his special moments with the ball too. Something that I’ve missed for a long time now.

The shots that he played were right out of the text book. And some even outside of it. He was not known for any one particular shot. All cricketing shots were his signature shots. His cover drives and straight drives were a pleasure to watch, especially from behind the wicket. His pulls, lofted drives and cuts were a treat to watch from the non-striker’s end. Due to my limited vision, I could never watch the ball go to the boundary for a six or a four. However, the roar of the crowd was enough for me to understand that Sachin was on fire.

Not just his shots, but his defending won my admiration as well. He did all he could to guard me from the best of bowlers. From the extreme swing of Wasim Akram to the extreme spin of Shane Warne; from Manchester to Melbourne; from Chennai to Christchurch; from Lords to Lahore; this man had more passion than any other to stay on the pitch. Sometimes he did fail to protect me and I got hit hard; but if that was the price to pay to watch him play, I would gladly do it. The way he regretted it showed that he cared for me. God cared for me.

I was extremely lucky to be present in some of the greatest moments that India’s number 10 produced. I watched him dance down the wicket during the Desert Storm, cut Shoaib Akthar in South Africa; I was there during his double century in the Sydney Test and when he got to a double century at Gwalior – this time in an ODI – only to mention a few. But the most special moment in my life – and perhaps even in his – came when he lifted me up after India won the World Cup in 2011, carrying me and an Indian flag in his hands as he himself was being carried around the stadium by his teammates on their shoulders. The expression on his face was priceless. Life, for me, had come a full circle.

With the likes of express bowlers like Malinga and Steyn still lurking around, I am not sure how long I will last before being split to pieces. And now that Sachin will soon say goodbye to the game for good, I do not mind going away. The best way to go out would be if I was hit by a strong straight drive from the man himself while being at the non striker’s end. But then again, that might be asking for too much.