A boring biography!
The trouble with biographies is that they are BORING! It's almost as if publishers tell authors: "Hey! Go and write 20 chapters about this great person." And just as the poor author is nodding obediently and getting up to leave; they add: "And make it boring".
But doing that to Sachin's biography is a bit difficult. 'Cause the stuff his life is made of is anything but boring. Bet you didn't know that he often scared his brother by talking loudly and playing cricket in his sleep. He was such a school bully that the first thing he wanted to know when he was introduced to a new kid was: Will I be able to beat him up? And none less than his best friend has told me that he would often be found standing on his bench in class, punished by the teacher for throwing ink on his classmates. And I bet you didn’t know either that once - while on tour to Ahmedabad with the under 15 team - Sachin applied Sloan’s balm (a painful burning ointment) around his teammate Atul Ranade’s eyes while he was sleeping. When poor Atul woke up in the middle of the night, rubbing his burning eyes and started screaming that he could not see; Sachin (pretending to be asleep) rushed him to the bathroom and said, "Apply this cream it will make you feel better.” The cream was actually toothpaste and since poor Atul couldn't see that either he rubbed it all over his eyes. Agreed that was not a nice thing to do. Atul could have lost his eyesight. But this is just to give you an idea about the kind of stuff you'll find in this book so that you don't yawn or do related things like fall asleep. Because that’s what school text books are for.
The story of Sachin Tendulkar goes back a bit of a long way (30 odd years) but really not all that much if you compare it to the life of the dinosaurs (that goes back 230 million years). To begin where it all sort of started (for Sachin silly; not the dinosaurs) you’ll have to hold my hand and let me take you to a cricket ground in Mumbai called Shivaji Park. If you’d rather not hold hands, that’s fine too. Makes it easier for me to type. Just hang in there and read on because the awesomeness of this single ground can be judged by the fact that two of the world's best batsmen - Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar - both learnt their cricket here.
The time was 6.30 pm. A pale orange sun had just yawned too (no it wasn’t reading any biographies; just settling down for the night); and its last rays were sweeping across Mumbai’s Shivaji Park where little boys practiced cricket everyday. They were falling on a skinny little kid with tennis legend McEnroe inspired curly hair. He was a McEnroe fan and he was just about 12 years old. The rays were bouncing off the shiny run out patch on the old cricket bat he was holding and making the sweat on his forehead sparkle like tiny diamonds. They were dancing off the wild curls that he liked to shake around; adding a determined glint to his eyes and warming up the sweaty fingers gripped tightly around his cricket bat. He was short, stocky and stood a few inches below the other boys in his class. Yes, that was Sachin. Next time you make fun of a short kid, it might help to remember that!
Twelve-year-old Sachin was really tired since he had been batting since morning but he had an incentive to stay on the pitch. Winking at him from the middle stump was a shining silver one rupee coin. His coach Ramakant Achrekar had placed it there. Sachin knew that if he wanted to take the coin home (which he did, very badly) he would have to remain not out till the end of the practice session. Otherwise, the coin would go to the bowler who took his wicket.
He had woken up early that day. From 7 am to 10 am, he had practised at the nets. From 10 am to 4 pm, he had played a match. And for the last two hours he had again been practising under the watchful eye of his coach – the tall and serious looking Ramakant Achrekar sir. Just when he had become exhausted and thought he could not go on anymore; Achrekar sir had placed the one rupee coin on the middle stump. Sachin knew he couldn’t quit now. That was the last ball of the last over. Sachin's eyes were fixed on the boy at the bowler’s end. He was frowning in concentration and his heart was beating just a little faster than usual.
Rubbing the ball against his trouser leg one last time, the bowler swung his arm back to fling it at the little batsman with all his strength. The ball came flying through the air and Sachin stepped forward and swung his bat to meet it off the ground. It connected hard with the willow and went spinning through the air even as his little fingers strained to hold the bat under its impact. He lifted his head and watched it zip through the air in a wide arc and chewed his lower lip anxiously as a boy ran after it. The ball whizzed past the fielder's open fingers and rolled over the grass crossing the boundary for a four.
Even as a shout of dismay rang out through the boys, Sachin smiled shyly and turned around to reach for the coin he had won. He slipped it into his pocket with Achrekar sir looking on from the stands. It was at times like this that coach Achrekar felt that Sachin was no ordinary boy. But, one doubts, if at that particular moment, even he could have guessed that the cute kid with the curly hair would grow up to become one of the world’s greatest batsmen.
And here’s a little secret that most people don’t know. Even after he became the greatest batsman in the world, and had millions of people cheering and clapping and chanting his name every time he came to bat, Sachin would still consider the 13 coins he won from his coach during those childhood cricket sessions as his most prized possession.
Pictures from the book The making of a cricketer by Ajit Tendulkar. Chapter based on interview with Sachin's childhood friend Amol Muzumdar
Just in case you want to know how Acherkar sir, Sachin’s amazing coach, trained him; here’s the experience recounted by Amol Muzumdar, a school time friend who also trained at the same nets. Amol is an awesome cricketer too. He is the highest run scorer in a Ranji match with more than 11,070 runs. Amol also has 21 coins as batting medallions from the cricket he played at Shivaji Park. Over to Amol:
Humility came from the training. You were taught from the beginning that the game is bigger than anybody, no matter who you are. You should never insult the game. We were brought with that line by Achrekar sir. Anything you do wrong on the ground, you will have to pay for it. Everyone was humble also because everyone training there was good. If you ever started feeling pompous, you just had to look over your shoulder and there you’d see someone as good as you or even better. We were taught from the beginning no matter how many runs you score, that was your job, there was nothing great about you.
Achrekar sir had the ability to spot talent and the strength to back it all the way. He gave people direction in life. From his academy there have come hundreds of cricketers who have not made it to the level of Sachin, but their lives and their houses are run by cricket.
There were five nets on that ground and Sachin would bat at every single one of those. Out of 31 days in a month, each one of us played about 28 to 29 matches. There were no family functions attended, no festivals celebrated; even birthdays were forgotten. Personal things took a back seat. It was just about cricket, cricket and more cricket. The routine was: practise in the morning, then a match from 10 am to 4 pm; practise again from 4.30 pm to 7 pm. Everyday. Sometimes Sachin used to bat till lunch time at Dadar, then Achrekar sir would put him on the back seat of his scooter and take him to Sardar Nagar (pl check name) 45 minutes away. He used to make him bat after lunch over there and then get him back in time for 4 pm practice at Dadar. That’s the kind of passion he had.
Sometimes for extreme motivation; sir would place a one rupee or two rupee coins on the stumps. It would be a prize for the bowler or the batsman; depending on who played better. If the bowler took the wicket it would go to him; if the batsman remained not out the money would be his. He would do it late in the evening, when the sun was setting, there was not much light, it was tough to sight the ball and since it was the end of the day everyone was tired and pushing beyond limits. We would still charge to get that one rupee coin. It was not about the money, it was a medallion you took home to mom and dad. It was hard earned money."