Jasper (the old guy with the long beard) from The Simpsons had made quite a poignant remark once while trying (the operative word is trying) to watch television. He’d said, “Two hundred channels; Nothing but cats.” That was me a few days ago. Road to Perdition on one channel, some dumb ass show called TMZ on another channel. News channels all airing the same boring story. Some crap on the sports channels and CSI on another.
Two hundred channels; Nothing but crap, I heard myself say.
Of course, to be fair, there was Bad Santa on some channel, but that wouldn’t be on until hours later. My unfathomable love for that film will be discussed at another time, in another post. Not now. Idly flipping through channels reminded me of a time nearly two decades ago, when all we had was two channels — Doordarshan and DD-Metro. Today, I cannot make any sense of how only two channels were enough back then, but they were. Strangely enough.
Cartoons, news, TV shows, music shows, sports (involving India) etc. Most of the programming was quite high-quality stuff. Television shows like Buniyaad, Malgudi Days, Oshin, Humlog, Nukkad and so on are the stuff of legend. I saw the entire coverage of the first Gulf War on Doordarshan news in tiny bit-size packages. No CNN for us back then.
Then again, I probably didn’t watch too much television back then. Read a fair bit. Used my imagination a fair bit. A shit load more than some of these loser kids of today. (Again, a topic for a different time). For instance, I played cricket — albeit with a plastic bat and ball — long before I’d ever seen a match on television. 1992’s probably when I watched my first cricket match on television. I’d never seen this sport being actually played. And they wore some pretty spiffy pyjama-style outfits, I remember thinking. Note: Doordarshan only used to telecast matches featuring India and so, the first match I saw was India v/s England.
WACA, Perth
Benson and Hedges World Cup
February 22, 1992
Set as it was in Australia, matches started long before I woke up for school and would be done before we were done with school. Plus, there was a small highlights package which was on long after I was asleep. The day India played England (in day/night match), I managed to catch most of the match. I don’t know how. Probably skipped school or something. Can’t remember.
With the fall of Mohammad Azharuddin’s wicket, in walked a diminutive (the word’s a dead give away) man, who seemed to be wearing a helmet a couple of sizes too big. Massive mop of curly hair and he looked no more than a couple of years older than me, I thought. I was 7. Every shot he unfurled in that knock against England looked amazing. I love that guy, I thought to myself. Saw him get out cheaply in the next match against the West Indies. It doesn’t matter, I thought.
Over the next few years, I got more and more involved in playing the game. Signed up with a few coaching classes. Realised I enjoyed bowling a hell of a lot more than batting, but I’d kill to be able to bat like that. That of course was that little kid on TV, who was slowly but surely making a huge name for himself in a game of men. And he bowled too! To think he started off as a quick bowler, which was what I was trying to do. Brilliant. And he was singlehandedly bowling India to wins. Once in a while.
Skipping forward, 1996 was the year the World Cup came to India and I did not miss a single bit of the action. Didn’t actually make it into any stadia, but watched all the matches on television. That was the era of cricket viewing for me, when I’d be depressed beyond belief at an Indian loss. So obviously, the semi final balls-up left me quite depressed for a while. But this little kid had the highest runs aggregate in any World Cup played till then (obviously he broke the record again years later).
The Sandstorm Match (from the legendary Sharjah encounters) happened a few years later. In addition to being a match that any Indian worth his/her salt ought to remember, this little man (as part of a montage of his shots) actually made Tubthumping sound like an amazing song. Such was the effect of the cool he oozed that I still think it’s a decent song. I love that guy. Meanwhile, loud renditions of “Sa-chin... SACHIN *clap clap clap*” had been doing the rounds in stadia all across the world and the mere notion of Mr Tendulkar stepping out to bat gave the best of the best of bowlers from across the globe, mad heebie-jeebies.
Meanwhile, just as that was happening with Sachin, batsmen from all over shuddered whenever the acronym “KP” (not that South African-English fake KP) was mentioned, followed by the phrase “... is the next bowler”. The fact that these batsmen who did shudder, could barely hold a bat and that all over, is probably more accurately described as all over Delhi’s Gulmohar Park area.
The fact is I was a deadly accurate and lightning fast bowler.
Ok... I was quite accurate and quick in the air.
FINE!! I was about as accurate as Shah Rukh Khan is Venezuelan and would seem like a fast bowler only if the sole basis of comparison was Carl Hooper. Happy?
Bloody digression. Anyway, next began the era when television sets across India and the world would be swiftly switched off when Sachin was dismissed. A family friend of ours and I almost left Lords when the little man was dismissed with a long long way to go in that NatWest Trophy. Saner minds prevailed then and we stayed on.
Saner minds, did I say? For the decades of runs and entertainment that this man gave the world, the least he could’ve asked for in return, was saner minds. Towards the second decade of his career, every time he was injured, dismissed cheaply or caught saying something that people misconstrued, there was a hue and cry and calls for his head. It’s been the case for the longest time.
From being called “overrated”, “tired”, “selfish” to being accused of “only being interested in records and never playing for the team or winning the team any matches”, he’s had to hear the most moronic remarks and indictments from people who really ought to know better. Former players, random armchair pundits, politicians (well, one politician) etc. It got to an era where it became “cool” to knock Sachin for every little thing.
Why did India lose in the Caribbean? Sachin’s fault
Why does the batting keep crumbling? Sachin’s fault
Why does global warming happen? Sachin’s fault
Why are India and Pakistan constantly at each other’s throats? Sachin’s fault
Why do I feel the need to blog today? Sachin’s fault
And how has he responded? Blasting bowlers from Australia, England, Pakistan, West Indies, South Africa, Namibia, Zimbabwe, Bermuda, Turkmenistan, Antarctica, Mars, Alpha Centauri and even bloody Rigel-7 into oblivion. I physically cannot create a compendium of his greatest knocks, because frankly it’d take too long. Enough of the introduction and the tying in “where my life was when he did what” thing.
There was obviously going to be someone who’d hit 200 one day in One Day International cricket. Sachin had gotten bloody close on a number of occasions. He had no other highest score or fastest score records to his name (most runs doesn’t count). Fact of the matter is even a kid from Mumbai broke the record he set with Vinod Kambli for the highest partnership eons ago. It was only a matter of time till he broke this one.
The Don knew it, Shane Warne knew it, Sunil Gavaskar knew it, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson probably knew it, you knew it, I knew it and now, the record books know it...
Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, the world’s first ODI double-centurion...
What’s left to say except, I love that guy.
No comments:
Post a Comment