The Magician from Mumbai - Sachin Tendulkar

“He’s done it, he’s done it”, screamed my colleague at the top of his voice. We all gathered around his computer to look at the scorecard, not that we were doing anything else for the last half an hour, ever since Sachin crossed 180. Once we made sure Sachin had indeed reached 200, we heaved a sigh of relief and tried to go back to work. In the last 30 minutes, none of us remembered the bugs that needed to be fixed, the test cases that had to be executed or the e-mails that were to be sent. But that’s what Sachin does to you, doesn’t he? It’s amazing how a little man, hardly 5feet 5inches tall, manages to hold the collective attention of a billion people.

Ever since I started watching cricket, Sachin has been a hero. In any Indian stadium( and in a lot of stadiums abroad), whenever Sachin is due to bat next and a wicket falls, there is a momentary silence, more as a formality, and as soon as Sachin steps on to the ground the cheering starts. The intensity of the cheer increases slowly as he walks towards the pitch and continues right till he takes his guard. As the bowler charges to bowl the first ball to Sachin, another round of cheering begins and reaches a crescendo when his bat connects with the ball. And in case, just in case, Sachin gets out the first ball, such is the intensity of the deafening silence that even a deaf will turn around. This happens every single time Sachin comes on to bat. There is no other player- anywhere in the world- who receives this kind of a unique reception from the crowd.

Such is the confidence in Sachin that as long as he is there, still batting, no Indian supporter ever loses hope. And when he gets out, however strong India’s position is, even the most optimistic of fans can’t help but get fidgety. Over the last two decades, India has produced some very fine players like Dravid, Ganguly, Laxman and Sehwag, but the groans are the loudest when Sachin gets out.

Sachin is a player liked by purists and masses alike, by children, by youngsters and by the older generation. People love to see him whether he is playing Twenty20, ODI or Test. Forget the batting, there is a buzz around the ground, an anticipation, whenever he comes on to bowl. And during fielding, whenever he dives to stop a ball, the crowd appreciates it as if it’s the best fielding display ever! In short, anything Sachin does on the field, absolutely anything, people love it.

There are some who disapprove of Sachin’s greatness. They say he has not won enough matches for India and that he doesn’t play well in finals (must confess I had been one of them). But even his most ardent detractors will admit that once he is on the field, anything is possible. That is why even while they criticize Sachin, they know if he is out, most of the time, India’s hopes are also out with him.

Sachin has already broken a lot of records, and will definitely break many more by the time he retires; but his greatest legacy will always be the joy he imparts to his fans, the way he raises the hopes of a billion people whenever he walks in to bat, the way he breaks their hearts when he untimely gets out with India at the door step of victory, the way he makes me, my colleagues and millions of other fans forget the grind of the daily lives and be totally mesmerized with his batting. Tomorrow, somebody else may score another ODI double century or break any of his innumerable records, but there cannot be another Sachin. There is and always will be only one.

At the risk of sounding clichéd, I must say that I am really fortunate to have been born in an era when Sachin played. A banner in Sharjah once read
“I Will See God When I Die But Till Then I Will See Sachin.”

I don’t think his diehard fans will disagree.