The Sachin Tendulkar University of Cricket (est. 1989)

Picture courtesy: a crazy fan, from amongst billions

I am in no way hinting at being ‘different’, when I say that I cannot think of my life without this man. Jokes apart, had I not been born in this era, I would have surely given God a mouthful when I returned. I am talking about this generation’s incarnation; the man with a wooden sword, and a grilled crown; MRF’s reason of regret, and Adidas’ source of limitless joy; the root of Indian cricket and the superman with no known kryptonite, Sachin Tendulkar.

Never has the sporting arena seen a figure so diminutive, yet massive; so deferential, yet so murderously attacking. In short, He is the embodiment of the attitude ‘hunger beyond perfection’ in sport.

He has had a billion coaches throughout his career, who’ve always known how He should have played a delivery. How He should have not gone after that delivery outside the off stump. And He has managed to satisfy and entertain them all! That is real uber-human stuff!

Doing this 99 times must have been the cause of that tennis-elbow!

It is famously said that walls limit mortals. Great men jump over walls. Legends break through them! Whether it was the back problem in 1999, or the slump in form during mid 2000s, the country never left hope. More importantly, He didn’t lose hope. He had once said, “I make milestones out of the stones thrown at me.” What words. What attitude.

I can still recall the moment when he played Charl Langeveldt to point and took that historic, colossal single. It was just another single. Only difference being it took his score from 199* to 200*. “Superman from India” is the exact words Ravi Shastri used to address Him! Many people had come close to this achievement. But where others had failed, He succeeded. He had to. It was destiny. It had to be the greatest proponent of the game who could have had the distinction of being the first to score a double hundred in limited overs cricket!

The declaration of independence proclaims that people who have the ability to act, have the responsibility to act! It was the December of 2008. The setting was the 2^nd innings of a test match (apparently Sachin’s kryptonite!). A series of terror attacks on Mumbai was still a fresh wound. The government was helpless, and the people were angry, and wanted blood. This was the time when He rose up to the occasion. Sachin scored a century, and guided India to victory. That exaltation, as the ball crossed the boundary, was the balm that India so needed. He need not have proclaimed that it was dedicated to the nation. Nothing less was ever expected of Him.

Here was a man, a machine, an enigma, and a sea of calm in the cauldron of emotions. Battle scars have weakened His arms and losses have bruised His genius. His own countrymen have let Him down time and again. There is no piece of land left unconquered. There is no adversary who has not been demolished.

For 22 years and more, His workday has been a day of hope for millions. The time he spends on those 22 yards of land inspires the nation. What other marvel of this realm could make millions jump in joy, with a simple swoosh of His willow! What other phenomenon could galvanize a carved up, bisected nation!

Every time lesser mortals have let Him down, He has had nothing but praise for the less worthy. Every time His comrades have run away in battle, He has had nothing but truckloads of courage, braving the foe alone. At times of distress, His small frame, magnified thousand times, stood Hercules-like, to defend the hopes of millions! When countrymen around Him turned traitors, and character was sold for gold, and the one true religion of a country was in despair and doom, He bore the torch of hope. He did what none living has ever done, and none will ever do.

If there was one adornment that was missing from the legend’s wardrobe, it was that shiny world cup winners’ medal. It was all pre-ordained. This was the last frontier for the Alexander of cricket. Destiny couldn’t, but bow down before the man. Once again, the man top-scored for India in the tournament. In the words of Virat Kohli, it was only fitting to carry a man on his shoulders, who had been carrying Indian cricket on His shoulders for decades.

For once, the right thing happened. The fairy tale had a happy ending, one that will be etched in gold in the annals of Indian history.