20 Years of the Little Master

The thing about cricket, or one of the things about it, is that the game makes few allowances for ability. The strong are persecuted just as surely as the weak are found out. There is, literally, no hiding place. Indeed, the strongest players may suffer more than the weakest. For with ability comes increased expectation and responsibility. The weak or average player can fail; the strong cannot if his team is to prosper.

So not the least of the many wonders of Sachin Tendulkar is that he has withstood the all-but-intolerable burdens that come with being a hero to a billion people. Consider this: instead of the silence you might expect when India lose their second wicket there is cheering. Because that’s the cue for the Little Master to stroll to the wicket. In other words, Tendulkar comes out to bat knowing that the crowd are pleased that India’s position has deteriorated but that’s ok because the spectators, at the ground and wherever there are Indians, expect him to repair the damage they have, only semi-secretly, been wishing upon their own team.