For desperate want of a better word, ?strange? is how you might have described the mood at the Wankhede the moment ?Sachin Tendulkar c Sammy b Deonarine? happened.
It was nothing dramatic ? neither a sensational ball (only a sharpish catch) nor a foolish expansive shot (only a faintly misjudged nudge); the match was not perched on any sharp point; and the hush that you?d expect would fall over the stadium didn?t quite come.
It happened so suddenly that the void within produced no immediate, stabbing pain ? or perhaps Wankhede just chose to drown its loss in a massive farewell cheer as Sachin Tendulkar?s retreating silhouette passed from view.
If the dams didn?t burst and the stadium didn?t empty out visibly, it?s probably because hearts never break noisily.
An expletive uttered, as if in belated afterthought, alerted many in the Divecha stand to the dismissal, even as the crowd was settling down after having let Tino Best know a few overs earlier just what they thought of him. Tendulkar looked good for a century or more. And then everything got muddled.
The ball straightened slightly, Tendulkar lost balance and was rushed a tad, the fielder caught the edge lightning quick, and the umpire didn?t react immediately. It was only when the batsman started to walk back determinedly that the profanity escaped the tongue. They held their heads in disbelief, and then quickly launched into applause. The mourning, it can be assumed, will happen in private, at individual moments as each comes to terms with what must be everyone?s personal loss.
A man in his late 20s who identified himself as Navin Reddy said he would remember Sachin Tendulkar as the great polarising figure of his childhood ? the reason for bitter clashes with his father, who admired other batsmen.
?My dad wasn?t a big fan of Sachin?s, so we fought a lot about this because I was a diehard. Today I?m just happy that my two-year-old Rushabh watched him play. This is the first time I got my kid to a match, and Sachin is the first cricketer?s name he?s spoken. So it?s a combination of happiness and sadness, as these are my last few days in India and I might not watch cricket at home ever,? said the software professional who is migrating permanently to Europe in less than a month.
Chanakya Gupta had his father Anil flown down from Agra to watch their first cricket match together. The 35-year-old MNC employee said the sight of Sachin trying to slap the ball over third man and ending up in Sammy?s palms would haunt him forever. ?If I could turn back time, I would kill either the bowler or fielder,? he said.
?We wanted 200 in his 200th. Anyway, I hope someone quickly steps up to fill the void, Virat maybe.?
So did he applaud Kohli?s first boundary soon after Sachin?s exit? ?I don?t think anyone was watching Virat at that point,? Gupta said.
Jaykumar Magar, 70, had come from Aurangabad to watch a match in a stadium for the first time. ?I feel very sad. I have conveyed to all the youngsters in the family that they should learn hard work and humility from him.?
Manikandan had arrived in Mumbai from Chennai by train at 3 am on November 14, with four friends and five multi-coloured Malinga wigs. ?We also went to a ladies store and picked up a silk dupatta and lipstick,? he said, pointing to a banner that read ?All the way from Chepauk to Wankhede only for Sachin.?
?We were hoping it was a no-ball. First we thought he?d dropped the catch. Now we?ll cheer for the West Indies to score runs so he bats for the laaaaaaaaast time,? Manikandan said.
The five friends said they had bunked school, college and work to watch Tendulkar play, and this time they had skipped a wedding to make the journey to Mumbai. ?He may be from Mumbai, but Chennai is his favourite ground,? they declared.
The group cheered Kohli?s opening four, stayed on at the stadium during the lunch break, and later ribbed substitute Ishant Sharma for a dropped attempt. They knew they could take liberties with any of the new India players. The days of respectful reverence were over.
