How Sachin Tendulkar made British Asians fail the cricket test

Sachin Tendulkar was not the first overseas player to use his charm and skill to win the affections of England’s cricket faithful. While a toddler in Mumbai was picking up bats for the first time in the mid-1970s, Viv Richards was wowing Somerset’s cider-drinkers down at Taunton and also starring in that fine West Indies team of the period. And while the razzle-dazzle of Viv undoubtedly made him king, there were other wonderful players who were adored by county fans of a particular persuasion – cricketers of high calibre alongside their charisma like Imran Khan and Gordon Greenidge, and wonderful technicians like Richard Hadlee and Barry Richards. We weren’t to know it at the time but we were already witnessing the end of the golden period for overseas players in the English counties and leagues – as the financial muscle of Kerry Packer allowed the game’s biggest stars to drift away from long, hard seasons on the County Championship treadmill. From the mid-1980s onwards, it was generally through the medium of the international game that English spectators were given the opportunity to witness star acts from beyond their own shores. And so, along came Sachin. A fresh-faced 17-year-old with a curly, bouffant mop of hair in 1990, and tending to wear his shirt with the top three buttons undone, he toured England with Mohammad Azhruddin’s Indians. He already had seven Tests behind him, but had been forced to adapt to the nomadic world of a top-class cricketer, as none of those were in his home country. A few weeks before the tour started, Conservative politician Norman Tebbitt told Parliament: “A large proportion of Britain’s Asian population fail to pass the cricket test. Which side do they cheer for? It’s an interesting test. Are you still harking back to where you came from or where you are?” They were words that created a few ripples of controversy. The first Test was at Lord’s, where India were buried under a ton of runs from Graham Gooch – and Tendulkar made little impression with the bat. He took one blinding catch, however. I remember because I was in the crowd. With England having narrowly failed to enforce the follow-on they were looking for quick runs before an inevitable declaration. At times such as these, it is natural for the fielding side to switch off mentally. Allan Lamb middled a drive down the ground off the leg-spinner Narendra Hirwani, without timing it at all well. Tendulkar, positioned very wide at long off, had to sprint 30 yards before taking the catch, still running full tilt, one handed and at shin-height. A Lord’s crowd, up until then intoxicated by England runs, had something else to applaud, and it didn’t matter a jot that it was an Indian who had provided that special moment. You can watch the catch again eight minutes into this YouTube clip. [caption id=“attachment_1213071” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  Tendulkar’s Old Trafford ton showed he had the makings of a great. Getty Images[/caption] Only a sprinkling of fans pitched up on the last day of the drawn Test at Old Trafford that followed, but those that did were rewarded with Tendulkar’s first Test century to stave off defeat, featuring a delightful assortment of drives punched off the back foot, racing across a parched outfield during what happened to be a hot, dry English summer. But look back on that innings and note what he does when he reaches his century. There is no exuberant celebration – the helmet is held in one hand, bat in the other, but it’s a muted acknowledgement, not a “look how great am I” statement. It was the gesture of a teenager who knew there were an awful lot more such moments to come if he could continue to work hard, respect his opponents, maintain a level head and feed off the enormous talent he had the God-given luck to possess. Two summer laters, he spent a season at Yorkshire, becoming the famous club’s first overseas player. English county dressing-rooms were not always the most unilaterally welcoming environments, and Tendulkar was not yet out of his teens, but he had Yorkshire’s other pros onside from the word go. Coach Steve Oldham said at the time: “They are all better players for his presence. His confidence is infectious, they all want to bat with him.” He scored more than 1,000 runs that season and did things on his days off that any other kid his age might do – riding rollercoasters on the beach, eating fish and chips. The Tendulkar experiment had proved an unqualified success. Perhaps most poignantly, it continued a narrative that would continue whenever and wherever Tendulkar scored runs for India, especially against England. He connected strongly with British Asians - mostly second or third generation immigrants - who came to cricket grounds in much greater numbers in the years that followed, to see him bat, and to chant his name. They watched satellite feeds of him scoring runs elsewhere across the globe. They compared his great deeds in online discussion forums. Even their mums were besotted with him, because he was so well-mannered. And remember, these were fans who would support India against England - but without question favour England against pretty much anyone else. So much for Norman Tebbitt’s ludicrous cricket test. And all hail to Sachin Tendulkar.