Growing up with Sachin Tendulkar - How my childhood ended with his retirement

I was 14.

I was no longer a kid. A lot of things had changed; my voice broke, the darker aspects of life completely uncovered themselves to me, the pressure of O levels were mounting… but one thing remained intact: I kept worshipping Tendulkar.

The 2007 World Cup remains my worst memory of the Indian cricket team till date. I remember the media going absolutely berserk with hype over the team. Every news channel had a special report on each of the 15 players that were picked for the tournament. Perhaps it was this excessive hype that undid the team; the burden of expectations was too heavy.

The Indian team, prior to that World Cup, was surrounded with controversy as Greg Chappell had fallen out with most players.

One thing Tendulkar taught me more than anything else is to properly represent oneself in front of others. So when this man openly hit out at Chappell’s criticism of his attitude, it revealed to me that even God has a breaking point.

What ensued was a terrible tournament. India were knocked out from the group stages itself and Tendulkar, who was pushed down to bat at 4, could muster only 64 runs in the 3 games that he played – of which 57 came against Bermuda.

The 2007 WC still hurts many

That World Cup left a feeling within me. A dreadful sensation; that perhaps the greatest player of his era would retire without a World Cup trophy in his cabinet.

I was 16.

New place, new life. I left my birth-land, UAE, and was now at my motherland, Bangladesh. O levels were done, A-levels were in process. It was that phase of my life, the mid-teen-sweet-16 phase, when you start to think that you are invincible and the world is at your feet. You stop caring, stop giving a damn about what people think about you, and do as you please.

This was the year my dream came true: I saw Sachin Tendulkar in front of me, just about 30 yards away. When India came to Chittagong to play a Test game, I didn’t let go of the opportunity and I went to see him play. India were fielding on that particular day, so I couldn’t see him bat, but for some time, he was fielding right in front of me.

I can never describe how I felt at that particular moment, for words have limits, but overwhelming feelings don’t. What I can say is that I wanted to jump over the fence and put my head on his divine feet – that’s what you would do when you see your God, wouldn’t you?

I was 17.

A year older and even more reckless and uncaring about the intricacies of life. I had changed. Or rather, time had changed me. But once again, one thing was constant: Tendulkar schooling bowlers.

He was batting exquisitely. He had just completed his 50 when I had to go out to my teacher’s home to receive some coaching on mathematics. Till this very moment, I regret this decision because of what followed; math classes will come and go, such an innings won’t.

While my teacher was imparting knowledge to me, my cell phone rang. I answered and my uncle, without even saying hello, said, “Umid, Sachin just broke Saeed Anwar’s record.”

I was flabbergasted. He must be kidding, I thought. I shared the news with my teacher, also a cricket fan, and he immediately went to his drawing room to switch on the TV. He ran back to confirm the truth of the news to me.

I wanted to jump out of the chair and sit in front of his television and witness history being made live. But I couldn’t, I didn’t. Perhaps I hadn’t acquired enough karma by doing good deeds to watch the legend make a new record. After all, only the blessed ones see the Divine One in a destructively graceful mode.

The girl beside me quickly shared her opinion, something that made me want to sew her mouth, “Sachin will get out now, he always gets out in the 90s.”

Tendulkar throws his arms up into the air as he celebrates scoring a world-record breaking double century

But thankfully, he didn’t. Another phone call from my uncle confirmed him reaching the milestone. The bliss I felt at that point – Tendulkar had scoring 200! – overshadowed all the despair of not being able to watch such a special innings live.

That was what he was on this earth for. To score 200 in a 50-over game and show the world how it is done.

Since then, many others have broken the barrier, but only after Tendulkar disclosed the mystery of how to keep your resolution intact for such a prolonged period of time.

I was 18.

A year from that epic innings didn’t bring much change in me – one can only change so much in his lifetime. However, a seed was sown – a kernel that would go on to become a tree that disdained cricket without Tendulkar.

Cricket didn’t feel like before; no longer did I schedule my day based on it. Unless Tendulkar was in action; that never really changed.

Back in 2007, I felt that Sachin might never win the trophy that he so deserved, that it might elude him forever. I mentally started to accept the fact that perhaps the trophy itself didn’t do enough to fall in the hands of the maestro.

But I was so wrong.

As Tendulkar pillaged bowling attack after bowling attack in the tournament, ending up as the second highest run-getter with 482 runs in 9 games, he fell for just 18 after edging a Lasith Malinga out-swinger to Sangakkara. I was shattered, and the fear of seeing the greatest ODI batsman of all time retire without a World Cup once again gripped my heart.

My love for the Indian team faded some time ago, but this was something else. This was for Tendulkar. That World Cup winner medal had to be there in his personal showcase.

So when Dhoni hit a six to win the tournament, I was ecstatic. A wave of transcendental relief washed over me. Finally, it was done. He had won everything an international cricketer aspires to win.

This was all

Tendulkar’s outstanding form made me think that cricket without Tendulkar was never going to happen.