This happened more than two decades back. I wish I could be more specific about the dates, but am unable to recall it. But then, it hardly matters what the year was, because more than
the date and day, it was an opportunity to see what would have then been
considered the equivalent of cricketing nirvana - that of watching India's two
finest batsmen bat in the same team.
The setting was an improbable one. The royal house of Udaipur had decided to
hold a cricket match to commemorate a landmark date in Udaipur's history -
unfortunately, I do not remember whether it was just from Udaipur's incredibly rich
heritage or a more mundane cricketing landmark, but either way it was a an
event worthy of bringing Sunil Gavaskar and Sachin Tendulkar together in a
cricket match.
The ground
in question was Udaipur's main cricket field. Set amidst colleges, hostels,
playgrounds, basketball courts, football fields, athletic tracks, and the
inevitable cricket ground it was billed as a venue capable of hosting
international teams and players, and maybe one day an international match as
well, an honour it still awaits.
But more
specifically, it was built as the coaching camp venue for the Indian team before
the 1987 World Cup. India's cricketers did arrive for the camp but found the
pitch and the ground neither suitable nor safe to play and practice on.
The less
charitable of Udaipur's offended citizenry felt that the wickets and conditions
were merely an excuse for the absence of too many options after a day’s play.
Whatever the reasons, the camp ended in a hurry, and there were not exactly a
lot of displeased people from Udaipur when Gatting and co ended the Indian
team's hopes of retaining the World Cup.
It was this
ground then that would play host to this commemorative cricket match. A
one-day, limited overs game, featuring two of the biggest names in Indian
cricket. The recently retired Sunil
Gavaskar, my all time favourite cricketer, and Sachin Tendulkar, then just a
young man who was expected to follow in the Little Master’s footsteps and
achieve much batting greatness. Maybe Azharuddin and Jadeja were there as well,
as was Vinod Kambli - but not being able to recall that for sure is not meant
to slight them. It was just that Gavaskar and Tendulkar remained the highlights
of that day.
Back then
Gavaskar was already a legend of the sport -
a man who, in a more genteel, and cricket-loving world, was admired across the cricket world for his feats of batsmanship and in the aftermath of whose
retirement, Indian cricket looked a bit forlorn and lost, in the absence of a
batting anchor. But such was the man's draw that even in retirement he was a
marquee cricketing name, and people still wanted to see him bat.
Alongside Gavaskar, the big draw - possibly as big, if not yet bigger - was Sachin Tendulkar. Indian cricket's rising star, a batsman whose career
was just beginning to take off. Maybe it was the fact that by the time he arrived for that event in Udaipur, that over against Abdul Qadir had already happened, a few other big knocks had already been played, and comparisons with the Don were increasingly common. When Tendulkar headed back into the
dressing room after a session of practice on the outfield, he was mobbed for
autographs. It took him so much by surprise that he did not seem to know quite
how to react, clearly a long way from the great batsman who would draw from
that incredible adulation to light up world cricket.
As for the
match itself, it looked like just another game of cricket. Batsman, bowlers,
fielders, fours, sixes, catches, etc.
As with all
such events the highlight from the game was the opportunity to see both Gavaskar
and Tendulkar bat – they probably even batted together, though I am ashamed to
admit that I am not entirely sure if that was what I actually saw, or it is what
I wish I had seen. Some aspects of those two innings remain in memory – a
delectable leg glance from Gavaskar which raced away for four, and which will
forever remain etched in memory, a couple of sixes from Tendulkar and then the
eventual moment when Tendulkar was out. Tendulkar returned to the cheers of
those present, who then listened with a mixture of disbelief and wonderment as
the youngster seemed to be getting an earful from, presumably, Raj Singh
Dungarpur, for not batting longer - yet another of cricket's rituals, where a
good batting performance is rewarded with a hauling over the coals for not
getting more. There was another innings worth recalling – an innings of
eighty-something from a young local batsman, and a fellow member of my school’s
district-level inter-school cricket team.
How the
match ended, who won, who was man of the match, these details were incidental
to the main story - and that is also a pretty handy excuse for not remembering
those details.
But the
things that remain in memory are that rare glimpse of watching Gavaskar and
Tendulkar play in the same team, that leg glance, and the autograph of Sachin
Tendulkar which a friend, who was an event volunteer, managed to get me later.
All that
happened nearly as long back as when Tendulkar started his career. As he now
bids the game adieu, it is great to know that I was among the few who saw him
bat all those years, and nearly 200 Test matches, ago!
