"We'd like to keep the door open for Tendulkar till the last minute," skipper Saurav Ganguly said before the first Test against Australia in Bangalore—a justification to carry Tendulkar around as the 15th member of the squad. There was talk of the 'psychological' effect on the opposition. The real reason lay elsewhere—the box office. Even the remote possibility of a half-fit Tendulkar playing pushes up ticket sales. The will-he-won't-he discussion in the media keeps the possibility alive. Scratch the surface and the monetary reason for most decisions in Indian cricket reveals itself. The final decision on Tendulkar will not be made by the doctors, but by the marketing agents and that is the battle Tendulkar will have to fight as the injuries slow him down. The Indian team will have to look upon Tendulkar as a bonus when he plays; he might not play a full series at full-throttle any more. It is a fear not many will articulate, because for 15 years Tendulkar has been an automatic selection, a modern great whom Bradman chose above Walter Hammond in his all-time 11.
At 19, the Mumbai boy was already the world's best batsman. Interestingly, Tendulkar himself seemed to agree with this assessment in a quiet, matter-of-fact way. This lack of arrogance might have caused him to be less destructive in Test cricket than he was, but it was a crucial element in his becoming a national icon. Indians don't like their sporting heroes to be arrogant men; they give their hearts to modest players who underplay their emotions while performing consistently.
Since the age of 15, when he made his first-class debut with a century, he has been playing cricket virtually round the year. That's 17 of his 31 years devoted to the game. Four more if you add the many hours he put in daily since he was 11. But before he calls it a day, there is some unfinished business. In Test cricket, he is yet to play his defining innings; Bradman had his 254, V.V.S. Laxman his 281, Viv Richards his 291. These knocks captured the players, their personality, range and uniqueness. In Tendulkar's case, there are some candidates like his 241 in Sydney earlier this year or his 114 at Perth in 1992 or his 165 in Chennai. Twenty years from now, which Tendulkar inning will remain in memory? That one knock which will encapsulate the man is yet to come. But there is a contradiction here, because it will be played by a man who would have become less like himself.
When Tendulkar was starting out, his first Ranji captain, Dilip Vengsarkar, said he was a combination of Gavaskar and Gundappa Vishwanath. He will now have to move into the Vengsarkar phase—more watchful, more conscious of making runs, a more Mumbai-like batsman who places efficiency above all else.