TWO DOWN. MORE TO GO...?

Sunil Gavaskar regarded him to be “the closest thing to batting perfection.” Sachin Tendulkar is a human vessel whose every sinew, nerve and neuron impulse was honed to generate the optimal way of meeting a ball with a bat. If Michael Jackson acted as an agent for threading rhythm through the body, Tendulkar has answered nature’s bidding to send billions into quasi-religious frenzy using a combination of wood and leather – for twenty years now.

When it comes to appraising Tendulkar’s contribution to the game of cricket, the usage of clichés seems unavoidable. For the greater part of two decades, adoring fans and celebrated experts have heaped singular praise on Tendulkar as the Messiah of Cricket, to the point where it sounds hackneyed. “Little Master”, “Master Blaster”, “wiz kid” and “The Master” are epithets that renowned exponents of the game attach to the great man. “Cricket is my religion; Sachin is my God,” runs the phrase on many a fan-made banner in the stadiums.

But while all these titles glorify Tendulkar the artiste, it is Gavaskar’s simple nickname for him that truly reflects the love and adulation an entire nation has for him – “Tendlya.” Rhythmic cries of “Sachin, Sachin” fill the stadium when he is on view. These chants bear the expectations of a country of cricketing fanatics. And perhaps the greatness of Tendulkar lies in how he has remained grounded stolidly on earth despite them. How he has evaded the ever-present risk of letting the constant blandishments go to his head betrays a tad more skill than his ducking of a seething bouncer. Modest to the bone, his feline squeak of a voice retains the innocence of the 16 year-old, while bearing undertones of immense maturity.

However much aficionados set Tendulkar up on a pedestal, many are not blind to the fact that his knocks have not been instrumental in winning India many matches. I grew up with the saying that “if Tendulkar scores a century, India will not win.” Kapil Dev has been known to criticize Sachin for not playing with the team’s cause in mind. Several of Sachin’s great knocks have not forged an Indian victory. The most blaring example of this is the famous “desert storm” innings of 143 against Australia at Sharjah, in 1998, while the 175 versus the same team earlier this month is the latest reflection of the sad phenomenon – in both instances, Tendulkar’s sensational batting failed nevertheless to get India over the line. Kapil Dev recently wrote that he felt disappointed that Sachin had not sustained the ruthless destroyer persona of his first eight years but had turned, instead, into a record breaker along the line.

Then again such criticism is based on sour outlooks. It needs to be pointed out that most of those inningses for which Tendulkar is condemned for not having taken India through have been solo efforts. He has borne the lone torch amid a sea of corpses in a failing batting line up. Even in the recent innings in Hyderabad against the Aussies, his single-handed effort is sidelined by the fact that he did not manage to exert his 36 year-old lungs that bit more to win India a match it deserved to lose.

An absolutely non-controversial stint as a media specimen has won him the loyalty of his immense fan-base. However, less enamoured Indian supporters are liable to pounce on him in the event of a rare failure. It should be interesting to see reactions should he fail to secure India a draw against Sri Lanka on the final day of the current Test.