carry on uncle

Well...i actually got choked with emotions reading this article:

Absolute masterpiece......mamu, no need to guess the writer!;)


In a sporting world of swollen egos, pouting stars, silly belligerence on the field, artless sledging, he has never undignified the adulation he has been given.
Somehow through it all, his riches, his deification, his life turned into an unending episode of reality TV, Tendulkar has maintained a sense of proportion. Except now some of us are losing ours.

Judgement of Tendulkar in recent times in some places has been hurried, harsh and disquietingly rude. He failed in the Test series against Pakistan and he was Endulkar, he scored a century in the first one-dayer and he was Tondulkar, a grand career glibly reduced to a slick headline.

But then this is the age of provocation, where some pundits confuse volume with wisdom, and cricket is turned from game into tamasha (commotion).

Mocking ability

Reasonable observers like Gavaskar and Shastri remain, but they are in danger of being drowned out by more strident voices. Moin Khan, hardly the most chaste of cricketers, is giving us hysterical lessons in sportsmanship, while some former Indian players make a loud living offering bold and often banal pronouncements. Not that any of this means that Tendulkar is immune to criticism, or that he is above scrutiny. He is the man in the arena and must be judged, like others, not on reputation but performance.

He does not ask for favours, but only to be accorded the same dignity he has brought to the game. We need not swoon over him, neither must we revile him.

But to blithely dismiss him as had been done recently, to mock his ability as some do, to say he is afraid of fast bowling as others contend, is painful and unedifying.

Tendulkar was always a reluctant God and perhaps it is just that we have become impatient worshippers. His decline may eventually be more revealing about us than about him. Perhaps we have spent a lifetime perceiving Tendulkar as a batting superman and are unsure how to deal with him as a man, a human batsman who fails, who makes mistakes.

But after 17 years even the machine, and so many saw him as one, has to wear down, its mechanics occasionally faulty, and for some this is a revelation. What did we expect, that he would never grow up, that he be 16 forever? Are we?

When Tendulkar scored his 35th Test century recently it was said quickly, here and there, that he was back to his best. Of course, he wasn't, he cannot be.

But this is no surprise; what is a surprise, and thus a tribute to Tendulkar, is that his career stayed so brilliant so long, his embrace of discipline so constant that it stands unmatched in recent times and perhaps not just in cricket.

Sure his consistency has been somewhat amputated, but this is a natural progression; he is no longer the all-time great practitioner of the batting arts, but he remains a very good one. His 95 in the third one-dayer in Pakistan, on a pitch that was alive, had his captain, Dravid, in raptures.

Suggestions that his career is done with are laughable, for it is not as if India's bench is littered with superior talents who are being denied an opportunity. Men must earn their place, Tendulkar still is earning his. Over the hill he may be, but he is still more accomplished than other men at the top of their mountains.

Evident struggle

Roger Federer remarked recently that despite the apparent ease with which he dominates, some days tennis is hard work for him and he must labour.

For Tendulkar, it was the same, so fluently did he play once that we did not see nor appreciate his struggle, his singular focus of mind, which ensured that bad days or good, he found a way to produce his best for India.

Now his struggles are more evident, and yet there is a particular pleasure in watching Tendulkar past his prime, it is moving yet instructive to watch a champion return from injury and grapple with his game, propelled by a desperate, undying belief that even now, so many years later, he is still, dammit, good enough.

Tendulkar is a proud man, always has been, and if his instinctive genius has slowed then it is educational to watch a batsman remake himself, to find a new style that suits him, to stay relevant as a player even now.

He has defied everything for nearly two decades, bowlers, pitches, expectations, and now he is challenging time. He will face it head on; he always does.

One of these days it will end, maybe next year after the World Cup, maybe later, and this will be interesting, too, for modern sportsmen are loath to admit their moment has passed, taken kicking and pleading from their field of play. Retirement is a final admission of failed skills, it is these days an expensive decision as well.

Tendulkar, when he goes, must go of his own hand, it would be the only honourable departure. But that can wait. For now let's lock away the cheap criticism and the sweeping judgements, and enjoy the final chapters of a decent man and superior batsman. The season of Tendulkar is not yet over.