Mind over matter

Sachin Tendulkar is an immensely strong willed cricketer whose mentality is widely misunderstood, especially in his own country where he is subjected to blind devotion and the sort of critical scrutiny better suited for those in complete command of their fate.
Perhaps, the patronising of Tendulkar is part of the dialectic process. Bored by an adulation the player has not sought, observers search for flaws and upon finding them reduce the player to the company of mortals. These philosophers seem to think it is easy for a prodigy to score 70 hundreds with a billion people shouting his name and to emerge relatively unscathed. Tendulkar is human. He is also extraordinary.

In some respects, Tendulkar has been responsible for his own underestimation. He has refused to play the role of a sporting god, has declined to set himself apart, has denied himself tantrums, has asked for nothing more than to be treated the same as everyone else.

His willingness to listen adds to the impression of a man happy to play his part, a player aware of his abilities but anxious to serve a greater purpose. He rejects his assigned role as the dream-maker and concentrates on practical matters.

Precisely because he tries his hardest in every match, and thinks only of results not his own feats, he has been chastised for failing to rise to an occasion. Yet he has done so a thousand times. Just that to him, every innings is an occasion. If this is not greatness, it is something perilously close.

Tendulkar requires no defending. Like all great sportsmen, his figures speak for themselves. Like all great performers, he has lasted a long time and produced many staggering innings, so many that they tend to be taken for granted. But remove him from the Indian team and see how naked it looks! Tendulkar is worth more even than the runs he has scored.

Of course, his accomplishments have been underestimated. Not that the mightiest of his peers have questioned them. Listen to Lara, Warne and Gilchrist talk about him. All of them understand. They know the hardness of their journey, trying to find a balance between the striving, the compromises inherent in a team game  and maintaining a reasonable way of life. Remember that Tendulkar is a man, not  a machine. 

Like everyone else, he has to recreate himself every day. Every now and then, Tendulkar responds to carping comments. Of course, he is too much the gentleman to react with his tongue. In any case, he cannot because his words are subjected to the scrutiny otherwise reserved for Shakespeare and Dylan. Not that he is as delphic as either man, just that he could start a civil war with a murmur. 

Not long ago, his failures in finals were mentioned. At once, it was a legitimate point and an undeserved criticism. Often, Tendulkar has performed heroics just to get his team to the final. Tendulkar does not see himself as an historical figure but as a respected contemporary.

Nevertheless, the criticisms touched him. He realised that the time had come to fill that gap. For once, he had batted poorly in the qualifying matches. Now, he peeled off two magnificent innings that took his teams towards a decisive  victory. His effort in Sydney counts amongst the most brilliant chasing innings the game has known.

It never had been a matter of temperament. A weak man could not have performed so supremely for so long.  Sachin has an exceptional mind. Just that for once he allowed a little fury into his brain. But India ought not to expect that too often. It is not in his
nature.

Otherwise, he could not have survived all that he has survived, or contributed so wonderfully in such turbulent times.

India has been given a precious gift, the greatest and most civilised sportsman of the age.