Sachin Tendulkar: the man who taught India how to follow its dreams

INDIAN fans are bracing themselves for the cricket god's final Test

Sachin Tendulkar mural

OUTSIDE the Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai yesterday, the honking traffic on Marine Drive was backed up for hundreds of metres amid the fevered anticipation of a historic Test match.

Amid the jostling crowds of fans scrambling for tickets, the atmosphere was tinged with sadness. When Sachin Tendulkar walks out today for his 200th and last Test match, against the West Indies, it will mark the end of an era not just for him but for India.

Rahul Pardeshi, a driver and lifelong fan, sums up the feelings of millions of Indians: "Tendulkar is the god of Indian cricket -- our best player ever," he says. "People are very sad he is finally going. It's bad for India."

It was here at Wankhede on a sultry night in April 2011 that Tendulkar, who turned 40 this year, helped India to lift the World Cup for a second time when it beat Sri Lanka in the final. His batting in that tournament, in which he scored 482 runs, was masterful.

With more than 135 million Indians glued to the final on TV, victory was greeted with frenzied celebrations as fireworks lit up the sky above Mumbai, Tendulkar's home city, where tens of thousands of fans celebrated by dancing through the streets.

In India, Tendulkar is much more than a sporting icon. His attacking style combined with the emergence of his talents at a time when the nation's booming economy was on a roll convinced many to view him as not just a brilliant cricketer but a potent symbol of a proud new India, brimming with fresh confidence and ambitions to become a superpower.

"Like Sachin's batting, no longer would the nation's psyche be overwhelmingly dominated by a defensive mindset and a Hindu rate of growth," Rudroneel Ghosh wrote in a column in The Times of India this week. "Sachin reflected an aspirational India ready to break free from the shackles of the past and dared to dream big."

Born into a middle-class home in Dadar, a central district of Mumbai, Tendulkar took up cricket at the age of 11 when his elder brother gave him a bat in an effort to steer him out of a mischievous period at school.

After just two years playing in Shivaji Park, his small neighbourhood ground, his skills were impressing some of the biggest figures in Indian cricket.

"I met him when he was 13," says Anshuman Gaekwad, a former India coach who was national selector for four years. "Even then I knew there was something special about him, that he was a star."

Tendulkar graduated swiftly and effortlessly from his school team to the peak of Indian cricket, becoming the youngest player in the history of the national side when he made his debut aged 16 in a match against arch-rivals Pakistan. He scored his first Test century nine months later, against England at Old Trafford.

"He has an extraordinary passion for cricket and his learning process has never stopped," Gaekwad says.

The first batsman to score 100 international centuries (51 in Tests, 49 in one-day internationals), Tendulkar earned an estimated $22 million last year, making him one of the world's highest-paid sportsmen. Despite those figures, off the pitch he has rarely allowed his halo to slip. "He's a good human being," Gaekwad says. "He never got carried away with the fame and the money."

As he ponders his future with his wife and two children at his plush home in the upscale Mumbai suburb of Bandra, there has been no shortage of speculation about what he may do next.

Tendulkar has already been nominated to the Rajya Sabha, India's upper house of parliament, and won the Padma Vibhushan, the country's second-highest civilian honour. Several former Indian cricketers have used their career as a platform to enter politics full-time but Gaekwad seems certain that is not Tendulkar's style. "He is a very straightforward guy and, looking at his lifestyle, I am sure he will stay connected with cricket," he says.

THE TIMES