Endulkar? Dare we imagine the unimaginable

Note: This is an article, by Siddhartha Mishra, which appeared in Times of India (Lucknow) on 2nd February 2006.

It was not the context which made me love this article the first time I read it. I was in Class 9th and I loved the way it was written. I cut it out and stuck it in my diary. 

Very recently I lost the cut out, which lead to frantic searching all over the web.

After a lot of painful search, with the help of a friend, I finally tracked it down. 

For cricket fans, you probably remember the context. Quoting Wiki, "In the test series in Pakistan in 2006, Sachin failed to get going in all three innings despite the pitches being flat tracks. In the third of those three innings, he was bowled comprehensively after making 26, and ended up on all fours. This prompted The Times of India to publish an article entitled "Endulkar" in which TOI opined that Tendulkar's batting prowess had declined and his career had slid permanently."

Well Sachin proved everyone wrong all right. 

I didn't want to lose the article again, so here it goes -

In numbers we trust.

Circa 2005: 412 runs in 16 ODI innings at an average of 27.46; 255 runs in five Test innings at an average of 51.

With form having forsaken him — he, whose gospel is cricket and commandment run-scoring — the blasphemy of quoting numbers is, perhaps, not babel in the wilderness. That is the cross he has to bear. For being the player he is, and the player he is imagined to be.
The oracle of doubt speaks: He too shall pass; and the beginning of the end is seemingly here.
Forgive us, O Sachin Tendulkar, for we know not what we are saying. Or maybe we do.
For the elixir of immortal youth finds no mention in cricket’s scriptures. Sachin, at 32, with the thorns of your toe, back and elbow protesting, the age of miracles is past you. In the past too is the age of revelation, when your technique and timing defined the neo batting testament of the times. Uneasy lies the crown that your head adorns. Nay, your followers will never betray you; unfortunately, time has.
‘‘His left arm is not as strong as it once was; hence, we must learn to live without that trademark punched drive. With time, the aggressor has turned accumulator, the entertainer tends to go into a shell. We will never see the vintage Sachin of 5-7 years ago.’’ Thus spake Maninder Singh, eyewitness to Sachin’s baptism in international cricket on November 15, 1989 in Karachi.

Comprehend. This is not just about you, Sachin. This is about what is Tendulkaresque. And this is about the ultimate tryst with destiny. Ignorance was bliss for 16 years during which you converted millions into non-believers but, unfortunately, apocalypse has finally struck us: You are as prone to homo sapienisms as lesser mortals.
To quote Vinod Kambli, friend and follower of the Sachin path: ‘‘Just as the elbow injury needed time to heal, so too does Sachin need time to run into form. He is beyond expectations and pressure, and nobody dare find fault with his technique, but what Sachin needs to do is play freely.’’
Time was when you brought to the crease the tenets of Caribbean flair, Oriental wizardry, Anglo-Saxon correctness and Antipodean derring-do. Time was when salvation meant communion with your innings, with its intrinsic invitation to let go, be swept away. Time was when you were the reigning deity of public mindscape, drawing out one and all to celebrate the zeitgeist. The mood was euphoric; now it is that of uncertainty. The truth is out there. Sachin, for all your cricketing virtues, you can probably never be the batsman you once were.

In the words of Ajit Wadekar, venerable predecessor in Sachinland: ‘‘The pressure of staging a comeback after suffering injury was inevitable, but what was avoidable is his batting position at the top of the order being changed. Sachin appears to be confused about whether to attack the bowling or hang around; this, when there is no scope for error in international cricket. Today’s Sachin has curbed his natural stroke-making instincts; he would serve his own cause better by going back to his original ways.’’

Yes, the last temptation is to play on regardless of the constant that is change, but in doing so, you — who could do no wrong in days less ordinary — risk relinquishing your pedestal.

In this nation where cricket is religion most sacred, the least we owe you (as much as you do your halo) is the prayer of truth, even at the risk of sounding blasphemous — such is the labor of living and loving you, Sachin. And the truth is that, in this unforgiving world of nowness, even messiahs are crucified for the sin of repeated failure. Sachin, to hold pride of place in the trinity of international cricket, you might consider abandoning one of the two avatars of the game, much in the manner of Brian Lara and Shane Warne. Heed the truth, Sachin, and perchance you will be all the more greater for it.

Yet, Dilip Vengsarkar, who shepherded the Bombay flock to green pastures when Sachin was born in domestic cricket, does not foresee the imminent end of an era. ‘‘Sachin can — and should — play both forms of the game. He is motivated enough to come back strongly and continue playing for as long as he wants to.’’ Navjot Singh Sidhu, who partook of many a run feast within 22 yards of Sachin, prophesies the return of the prodigy: ‘‘Despite coming out of hibernation, Sachin — by playing the hook and square-drive with the mastery of old — has shown that all’s well with his batting. He has the technique, he has the confidence, he has the adrenaline... he will play a big knock soon.’’

Sachin, ’tis a fine line that separates a zero from the chosen one. Yet with the curse of everyday being Judgment Day for your genius comes the blessing of you being able to be your own saviour. The curtain will go up again shortly and, despite many an encore already, there can always be a new beginning today, Sachin.

We await the second coming. Anon. Dare we imagine the imaginable?