God chose Gwalior as his theater and wore jersey no. 10 and dabbed the full and wide 49.3rd ball wide of point. History was created. The back held up, the shoulders that bore the burden of carrying a weak team for the most part of the past two decades held up, the legs seemed to carry him with no effort. It was an almost flawless, well paced innings that defied age, belief and a formidable bowling attack. The date could well have been 24th Feb 199X.
It is now the innings break as I post this and the Springbok batsmen could very well come out and spoil the party and post 402. But that will be insignificant, bearable and even keeping with the protocol of India ending up losers through many of the Master's best knocks in the past.
But what really matters is that a wrong committed in my hometown, on borrowed legs, on a summer day in 1997 has been righted. An ignominy has been erased. Pride is now restored; a 13 year wound healed. I was jumping like a school girl and mouthing the unprintable. I'm happy.
Step aside Saeed Anwar and Charles Coventry. Take a bow Sachin! Thank you!
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