Saturday, September 8, 2012

Sachin Tendulkar and the retirement

Quote 1: "Despite the enormous popularity and willingness from the rest of the cast to return for a tenth season, Seinfeld decided he should end the show after its ninth season in an effort to maintain quality and "go out on top". NBC offered him $110 million but he declined the offer." Wikipedia on Jerry Seinfeld wanting to end the show after 9 successful seasons. 

Quote 2: "You see, this profession is filled to the brim with unrealistic ******s. ******s who thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don't." - Marsellus Wallace, Pulp Fiction. 

It was the 3rd of April, 2011. No Indian cricket fan needs to be reminded of what had happened a day earlier at the Wankhede. The adrenalin was still coursing through my veins. The world seemed a beautiful place. As I started reliving the victory by reading every single article penned on the topic, I was expecting one particular announcement: Sachin's retirement. Amidst the euphoria that was washing the nation down, I was fervently hoping that Sachin would declare his innings, signing off in the most perfect way. The title was won at the end of what was a successful campaign for arguably India's greatest player. Right in his home ground. In front of his adoring fans who had waited to witness that one moment. But that particular announcement never arrived. Not till today as I write this. The fan in me only hopes that he has not missed the opportunity to time his exit from the game gracefully despite growing fears of the contrary. 

Call me stupid but sporting careers are better cherished when the one overwhelming question at the curtain call is a resounding Why rather than an embarrassing Why not. "The bugger had at least a couple more years of cricket left in him" is a much better way to reminisce about your sporting hero than a "You know when he should have quit?" discussion. Signing off on a high is perhaps the toughest achievement in any sport that easily eludes even the most supremely gifted of performers.

Of late I have seen arguments calling for his continuing in the team, about his ability to score runs at will and the "leave him alone, he knows when to quit" being bandied around. They seem even more absurd coming from ex-players and otherwise sensible journalists. I'm no expert in team selection. But some common sense suggests that future potential rather than past achievements should be the overriding factor in selecting the best eleven men to represent the nation and take the team forward. If that is not the case, then I would like to see Gavaskar open the Indian innings for the next test. Sachin has had the touch of the divine no doubt, but at the end of the day we are talking about the limits of human ability in a performance sport. Allowing emotion and fondness of the heart dictate selectorial decisions may not be in the best interests of Indian cricket.

The future replacement for Sachin Tendulkar cannot be, wait for this, a Sachin Tendulkar. If we had had the ability to replace past greats of the game with an equivalent player, we wouldn't have had a Sachin in the first place. For, there has never been someone like him before nor will there be someone hereafter. It is a bit ironical then, that the void that he will leave behind will best reflect the magnitude of his majestic presence in the team. But on the same token, what better way to motivate a whole generation of players that have grown up on Sachin's feats than to aspire to be called his replacement?

And while I'm at it, might as well add my two cents on the other elephant in the room: the Bharatratna. It goes without my stating it here that Sachin has been the greatest Indian batsman of our generation. For the longest period, he has been the strength of an otherwise weak team and has admirably shouldered the expectations of a cricket crazy nation. He has indeed inspired by example - a truly fine specimen of our species. But at the end of the day he is an extremely gifted sportsman and conferring the nation's highest civilian honor on the grounds of excellence in a team sport just doesn't seem to sit well with me. If the Rajya Sabha membership is awkward, the BR would only be more so. Why don't we simply reserve that honor to eminent scientists, scholars, statesmen and leave sports people alone?