![]() Chennai Test | ![]() Hyderabad ODI |
1st Test, Chennai, Ind vs Pak, Jan 1999.
India was chasing 271 on the 4th day at Chepauk, a ground not renowned for teams winning batting last. Had they done it, it would even today, be the highest score chased down at the ground. The wicket was turning, and Saqlain was arguably in the form of his life. And soon India were reduced to 82 for 5. The 5 dismissed had contributed 24 to this 82.
Up against the odds, a man the world called a genius, wasn't just fighting the cricketing odds, but also a back-injury that later threatened to cut short, what would come to be a glorious career. Wincing at every shot, bending forward-stretching backwards between balls, he soldiered on, and with him breathed an entire nation. This was the time, when India was Sachin, Sachin was India[the cricket team].
And the genius was truly at work. The straight drives, the sweeps, the late cuts, the deft touches were all on display. It wasn't just a brilliant display of batsmanship, it was also an epitome of human ability coming into its own, the talent of one man over-shadowing that of 10. Much like how a hero in an indian flick takes on 10 goons and still has the ability to take on another 10, Sachin that day countered everything thrown at him with grace, and yet seemed to posses the ability to better it the next time. Only this was no film, there would be no retakes.
As a twelve year old, I sat there amazed, silently thanking my dad. He had just replaced the black and white Crown TV with coloured Videocon. Also, the roof-top antenna had been replaced by cable connection. I was glad to be watching Sachin's heroics in full colour. Sachin was OUR hero, the hope of almost a billion people, fighting an enemy the nation loves to hate.
If Sachin was the hero, then Mongia was the side-kick. Throughout the partnership, he fought with him, taking down a couple of enemies, landing a few memorable blows himself. And as usually happens with a side-kick, he fell first. Much like a side-kick, he made a silly mistake,leaving our hero alone to fight the battle.
Amazingly, the indian flick continued at Chepauk. Finding himself stranded and with little help, the hero with renewed vigour started to land decisive blows. The shots became more aggresive, and boundaries more frequent. He smashed Saqi, the most dangerous villain, two consequative fours. The Indian flick looked like going to its most oft repeated, but very likable end of hero thrashing the villain and emerging victorious. Sadly, this was no Indian flick, it was only my imagination. The villain tossed up one more, our hero went for one more, only this time the villain was ready, the hero unsuspecting. The ball took the edge, and ballooned up. I watched, breath stopped, hands clutched together to pray for the ball to land safely. The entire nation must have done the same, but God was not listening prayers then. He was busy watching Sachin bat! Alas the ball came down, and Wasim was there, more than eager to grasp it.
Our hero had fallen, with him a billion hearts had sunk. May be, thats why the rest of the team couldn't show the heart to score 19 runs. They managed only 7 more. The Yashraj goody-goody had turned into a Shakespearean tragedy. The audience was certainly in tears. Sachin was named the Man-of-the-match. But he didn't come to collect it. Everyone thought he was getting treated for the injury. We were to learn years later, that he didn't come because he just could not stop crying. For hours the boyish cheeks were drenched with tears, both his and mine. Sachin was to later say that of all the matches India lost, this was the one he wanted to win the most.
5th ODI, Hyderabad, Ind vs Aus, Nov 2009.
This time India were chasing a mammoth 351 under lights, a score chased down only once on a maddening night in Jo'burg. If they managed it, it would be highest score chased by India. The wicket was good to bat on, and the opposition bowling depleted due to injuries. Yet India found itself at 162-4, with the 4 batsmen contributing 61.
The cream of batting was gone, and with them the expectation of a victory. But the genius had other ideas. The challenge of maintaining a run-rate of 7 required playing strokes, the loss of four wickets demanded caution. The situation demanded the stroke-making of Richards, with the defence of Gavaskar. The situation, demanded a Tendulkar.
And Tendulkar was present, in entirety. Over the years, the swash buckler had transformed into an accumulator. But the swash buckler was awakened today. One by one, the strokes started to emerge, leg-glance, the flicks, the drives, the pulls and even the hook. Tendulkar today looked like Sachin of years gone by, but with the added grey-matter of experience. Instead of going after everything, we found him picking the loose ones, attacking them with a single-minded focus of getting boundaries. Tendulkar today seemed to be in complete control, knowing when the boundary was needed, picking which ball to attack.
The coloured Videocon is now a Sony LCD, and cable has been replaced by Tata-Sky. The twelve year old is now a handsome lad, but Sachin is still around, diving in the field taking catches, making hundreds, winning matches. Another 100 million have been added to this populace, but it looks as if Tendulkar's shoulders can take another 100.
This time around, Raina was the side-kick. Through the partnership, Tendulkar shouted, laughed, patted him and kept him going. Raina himself was not bad, playing few strokes, keeping the pressure off Tendulkar. But side-kicks remain side-kicks, making mistakes, getting out, leaving the hero stranded.
But Tendulkar was still there. And I kept reminding myself of that. In walked the sardar, and out he went after 2 balls. By this time that fateful Chennai test had started to haunt me. But I kept saying he's still there. In walked Jadeja, and Tendulkar kept counselling him. Jadeja played well till Tendulkar was there, and it soothed my nerves. The sense of deja vu was fading. India had begun to take control.
Or so it seemed. Tendulkar tried to help the ball over fine-leg. The ball was short and he had to make effort to make contact. The shot didn't come off well, and the ball ballooned. Once again the breath stopped, once again the hands clutched, once again I prayed, once again God didn't listen. And yet again someone caught it.
After that the sense of deja vu kept getting stronger by the minute. Once Tendulkar was gone, bedlam broke lose. Batsmen started to play unlikely shots, started running for no reason. Jadeja ran as if there was no tomorrow. There may be no tomorrow in his career soon. Every ball looked as if a wicket would fall or the batsmen themselves will find a way to get out.They finally did find the ways, and India once again fell short, by 3 runs. The dissapointment did not result in tears, but anger; and the tears never came. Neither to me nor to Sachin. It did however, result in this post.
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P.S. The sense of deja vu had become stronger because I had read about the Chennai test yesterday(on the match day that is). In my introductory post I have mentioned about considering and trying a few domain names. One of the names I had considered for this blog was "straight drive". But I found it already taken. When I checked it out, I read one of his posts. Read his point 4 of March 3, 2005 post over here.

