As Tendulkar, in full batting gear, walked down the steps to enter the field in India’s second innings, he looked positive; as he ran into the ground, he looked positive; as he hit his first superbly timed four to the mid-wicket boundary, he looked positive.
Then, inexplicably, for the next 63 balls, he put on his mortal guise. The God we knew had come down to planet Earth and lost all his powers. He seemed lost; he seemed cursed; he seemed stuck in a rut that certainly wasn’t part of his domain. In the commentator’s box, Ravi Shastri attributed the slow crawl to a ‘negative mindset’ while Sourav Ganguly felt the occasion got to him.
“There’s something about Tendulkar and Lord’s. I think it is the ground,” said Ganguly.
We’d like to believe the Prince of Kolkata (errrm still the Prince?) but throughout the innings, there was just one question that kept popping in our head: When will Tendulkar have his ‘Lara’ moment?
This isn’t a criticism. Though it probably should be. This is more like a plea.
What could force the best player on the planet to lay down his arms in the middle of a great battle? Did he honestly believe that he could block out the England bowlers for the remainder of the innings? Perhaps, he did but by changing his game, he put undue pressure on himself and in the end it told – 12 off 68 balls, 38 balls to move from 11 to 12, a strike-rate of 17.64. It was gut wrenching to watch.
And sad too…
In contrast, when we think about Lara in the fourth innings, we dream up visions of grandeur and incredible knocks. But look closer and you see that the vision is built around just one innings – 153 not out against the all-conquering Australians at Bridgetown in 1998/99.
Lara didn’t have the best record in the fourth innings. In fact, the West Indian great averaged just 35.12 in the fourth innings of Test match – that’s lower than Tendulkar. But his last-day effort was awe-inspiring. Those who watched it still can’t forget.
He fought against the coming of the tide and somehow, managed to win the day. It was a commanding display – he picked out the gaps, scooped the ball over the infield, farmed the strike and single-handedly denied Australia. By the time he was through, the party was on in the stands. It was a great innings by a splendid cricketer – perhaps we won’t see an innings like that again – but we can always hope. That’s the kind of contribution; India would want its champion to make more often.
Tendulkar, many of his supporters will say, was struggling. To those who came in later, he didn’t take the field in the middle of the Test due to viral fever. But the only point, we’re trying to make is that the approach was wrong. The intention wasn’t.
The master batsman doesn’t like to lose. He never does. But at least, on this one occasion, one hoped that he would have let the atmosphere get to him. He has the unique ability to shut the world out and do his own thing. But players, over the years, have testified about the kind of high that a packed house can give. Yesterday was a perfect occasion to borrow the crowd’s energy and channel it into his play.
But, instead, he rolled down his shutters and shut shop. And at that moment, it all spiraled out of control. It was a schoolboy’s wish to see Tendulkar smash the England bowlers all over the park at Lord’s; to see the crowds cheer wildly; to see the standing ovations answered in equal measure by some great batting.
It remains an empty dream. For somewhere under the bright blue skies of Lord’s, he forgot that this is, after all, only a game.
The moment you stop having fun, it’s over. And that’s pretty much what happened to Tendulkar. He may still make a mark in the series – indeed he almost certainly will – but what memory did he leave for all those watching the 2000th Test? That’s something to ponder over as we make our way to Trent Bridge for the second Test starting Friday.
We leave you with a clip of Lara’s brilliant, brilliant innings