Dear Sachin,
Congratulations on your retirement! Is it an appropriate thing to
say? I don't know... Just tweaking that legendary song from The Sound of
Music, I'm glad for you to go, I cannot tell a lie... For more than the past
couple of years, I have been absolutely vocal about the need of you retiring.
But now that it is actually upon me, I feel a bit nostalgic, a bit emotional.
In fact, a hell lot emotional…
I distinctly remember my first Tendulkar moment: It was a world cup match 1996, against Kenya. I had been to my uncle’s place for lunch. And I
wanted to get back home, to play hide and seek with my mates. But dad was glued
to the TV screen. So were my uncles. And as I was pestering dad to start, he
and my uncles kept telling me, “Wait till Sachin completes his century.” And finally
when you did get there, I looked at you rather curiously. Little did I know
that I’ll be watching this face constantly for the next 17 years…
The world cup fever caught my ten-year old self, and I started following cricket. Rather, started following you! Your whirlwind innings against Australia, brilliance against Lanka, the composure against Windies… and then the heartbreak in semifinals…
Then there was no stopping for my Sachinmania. And you kept providing me with gems of innings, lighting the days of my otherwise dull life. Be it destruction of Warne throughout the summer of 1998, this-it-for-you-dad hundred against Kenya in world cup 1999, hitting the bejeezus out of Shoaib in world cup 2003, scoring 241* without a single cover drive at Sydney… Mate, you were the velvet in the fabric of the game!
And with the grueling demands of the game, we could see your body
crumbling. The loss of form was inevitable. So much that TOI even called you
‘Endulkar’! But I was sure that you would come back. And come back strongly. I
firmly believed that you can win us the World cup of 2007. And when India
crashed out of it in the first round, I read you saying that you would play
till the next world cup. I still remember thinking, “Man! The guy’s lost it!”
Little did I know that you were going to make me compress my words into a
cheese slice, put that into a sandwich and make me eat it. Eat it whole…
That eventful night in November 2009 at Hyderabad, when India,
chasing a stiff target against Australia, was reduced to half. Until you take
over, that is. After that it was a familiar script. You taking the opposition
apart, leaving just a little for the rest, and India stumbling before the
finish line. You did not stop after that, though. For the next year and a half,
you were literally walking on water, including the first double ton in ODIs.
But of course, the cherry on the icing of the cake came on 2nd
April 2011, when you finally got your hands on that one trophy which you were
missing so badly. Hell, all of India wanted you to hold that glittering metal.
I wanted you to have that world cup winner’s medal more than anything!
Honestly, I secretly wished if you could walk into the sunset that very moment. But you did not. And then it all started going downhill. At least I felt so. A very shitty tour of England, followed by terrible show at home against Windies. Not the mighty Windies of 1970s, but pedestrian Windies of 2011, just a bit better that Zimbabwe or Kenya… And then even shittier tour of Australia. Could it have gotten get any worse? Impossible, thought yours truly. But no! You proved that you can not only bat bad; but also push your team into a shell. And make it lose the important momentum. Against England at home. And the number of people questioning your place in the squad was increasing, myself included.
In the meanwhile, you also scored your much-awaited 100th 100. Against the lowly Bangladesh. At a very slow pace. And India lost the game. What’s worse, you seemed to be encashing the media hype surrounding that ton. By launching a special Coke can and a special Adidas shoe. In the same function!
Any ways, now that you have finally decided to step down after playing your milestone, let’s not go into the bitter moments. Because honestly, the joyous moments that you gave me are faaaaar more than those. Have a good last couple of tests, GOD! And then, enjoy your retirement.
So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!
