The world's media have descended on Mumbai, as have every Indian businessman and politician, hoping that some Sachin sparkle will rub off on to their careers. Cynical? Me? Of course, but that's the age we live in. Of course we can still find something in sport that creates shivers down the spine, raises the hairs on the arms and brings tears to the eyes of the most hardened of critics. The arrival of Sachin Tendulkar onto the Wankhede pitch for what could be the last time ever was one such moment.
Admittedly, I didn't see it; I was tucked up in bed 4,000-odd miles away. However, this should go down as one of the most celebrated farewells in sporting history. At least the Little Master fared better than Don Bradman in his final match, but could he retire with what is now a rare century? Will anyone dare to get him out?! I remember feeling a lmup in the throat when Viv Richards strutted out in his last Test at The Oval 23 years ago, the banner on the pitch-side house saying what we all felt: "We'll miss you, Viv". That, I suspect, will be nothing compared with the sentiments expressed by the billion Indians and those of all cricket-loving nationalities this week.
Tendulkar may be a little more grizzled than he was a quarter of a century ago, a little slower on his feet but he remains the cool, calm, quiet character of old. Just squillions of rupees richer! It's a different era now, of course. SRT's career may have been extended by the fact he hardly ever plays anything other than T20 for his hometown franchise these days. However, he has been blessed by 25 seasons of almost injury-free success. As an even littler master he was talked up as a future megastar. Others have had high hopes heaped on their youthful shoulders only for real life to get in the way. Sachin has lived up to those early epithets, and more.
It makes watching film of those early innings even more extraordinary. He made his international debut at 16 in what must have been challenging circumstances, batting at six against Karachi. Being bowled for 15 by Waqar Younis was no embarrassment for anyone at that time. Next time at the crease he scored a painstaking half-century at Faisalabad, but he failed to reach three figures until Test number eight, by which time young Tendulkar had turned seventeen.
Today I enjoyed TV pictures of his feet dancing down the pitch to drive Chris Lewis, rising on those twinkling toes to cut Devon Malcolm or punch Angus Fraser to the cover boundary. The mop of curly hair was a little darker and looser at a hot, dry Old Trafford in August 1990 but his timing, temperament and talent were clear for all to see. The commentary of '50s and '60s bowling legends Richie Benaud and Jim Laker reflected that; here was a young man with bags of potential, and his 68 and 119 not out offered statistical proof. Who remembers that his skipper Azharuddin struck a superb 179 in the first innings, or that four England batsmen also scored centuries in the same game?
I don't know how many players he has partnered in those 200 Tests and 463 ODIs, let alone all the other first-class and limited-over matches, but SR Tendulkar's name has appeared on scorecards for 25 years. He started out alongside Kapil Dev and Dilip Vengsarkar, heroes from the Seventies, and now he bows out in the exciting young company of Kohli and Pujara, who should keep India strong well into the 2020s.
That may be just as much of a legacy as those 50,000 runs, hundred international hundreds and scintillating strokeplay in all forms of cricket. For that we should all be grateful. We'll miss you, Sachin...
