RevSportz Comment
More than nostalgia, sadness or pride, the prevalent emotion on the eve of Sachin Tendulkar’s final Test was anger. For the vast multitudes that had followed his every step for nearly a quarter-century, a ticket to witness the spectacle was as unlikely as a flight to the moon. Only a paltry 3500 tickets had been made available to the general public, and the website tasked with selling them online kept crashing.
In aerial shots, and even from up close, the Wankhede Stadium can be an imposing edifice. But it seated only 32,000. Even a stadium 30 times that size wouldn’t have been enough to accommodate everyone that wanted to come and pay their respects to a sporting icon like no other.
Tendulkar had been the talismanic figure for Indian cricket’s new wave, its Francois Truffaut, if you like. But like the rock of ages, he had outlasted each of his contemporaries. Anil Kumble and Sourav Ganguly had left the stage half a decade earlier. Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman, alongside whom he enjoyed so many memorable partnerships, had played their final Tests nearly two years earlier. Even Virender Sehwag, who grew up idolising him, had run his race.
How Tendulkar managed to stay sane in the build-up to the game is a wonder in itself. For the first time, his mother was coming to watch him play, and even the usually reticent Ajit, his older brother who had been such a major influence, had been persuaded to share his thoughts on national TV. Arjun, his son, had asked to be a ball boy, and there were hundreds of tributes from several generations of cricketers.
For the Latest Sports News: Click Here
Tendulkar had failed with the bat in the only innings he got in his penultimate Test in Kolkata, and there was the very real worry, given his diminishing returns with the bat, that the last chapter would be a damp squib. It wasn’t. Maybe the waves of energy and emotion cascading down from the stands played a part, as Tendulkar batted as well as he had at any point since his 51st and last Test ton in Cape Town nearly three years earlier.
A combination of Narsingh Deonarine and Darren Sammy ensured that there would be no fairy-tale century, but the numbers on the scoreboard were almost incidental. Those that came through the turnstiles were there to say goodbye to their pole star, to the man whose exploits had shaped their love of the game. There were tears and sobs even in the press box, and the staccato chant of Sa-chin, Sa-chin that had been Indian cricket’s soundtrack for so long reverberated louder than ever. One last time.
Tendulkar had always been a reluctant speaker, far more comfortable making his point with bat in mind. But he had a final surprise in store, with a speech so eloquent, heartfelt and moving that it brought on fresh floods of tears in the stands. And then, just like that, after a reverential touch of the pitch, he was gone from view.
In The Last of the Mohicans, James Fenimore Cooper wrote: “History, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness.” Tendulkar didn’t need such props. He shone like the sun, from the time he was a child prodigy to that last act as senior statesman.
Also Read: Signing off in style, and a speech to remember – Sachin Tendulkar’s final Test