Sachin Tendulkar: How a mortal man with an exceptional gift turned into a god for his fans
Sachin Tendulkar: How a mortal man with an exceptional gift turned into a god for his fans
Many of his fans call Sachin Tendulkar the 'God of cricket’. And there are equally large numbers who bristle with indignation the moment the G-word is brought into the equation. Arunabha Sengupta tries to look at the factors that led a mortal man, with a genius for making runs, to be equated with the divine.
Written by Arunabha Sengupta Published: Nov 13, 2013, 11:17 AM (IST) Edited: Sep 14, 2014, 08:02 AM (IST)
Many of his fans call Sachin Tendulkar the ‘God of cricket’. And there are equally large numbers who bristle with indignation the moment the G-word is brought into the equation. Arunabha Sengupta tries to look at the factors that led a mortal man, with a genius for making runs, to be equated with the divine. The Hayden Proclamation
“I have seen God. He bats at No 4 for India.”
Matthew Hayden’s comment was not a frivolous one. The adulation, the enormous respect, the uncountable following … The larger-than-life image of the man in every corner of the country … From the pavilion steps down which he trotted at the fall of the second wicket, to the giant images smiling from the billboards, to the crudely painted form on the walls of far flung remote village … The lure of Sachin Tendulkar was staggering to an Australian
Hayden’s statement was a reaction to his tour of India in 2001. He had witnessed millions of devotees of the great man, tuning in to each and every movement on the field and off, following the action from the stands raucously, staying glued to the images on the television as he batted, spoke or endorsed soft drinks, tyres, biscuits, cars or credit cards. If there was anyone who uniformly pervaded through the consciousness of the entire nation, it was Tendulkar. By 2001, when Hayden made this statement, he was indeed omnipresent like a deity as few other public figures had ever been.
It seems unreal when we look back and realise that when Tendulkar made his Test debut, Indian fans did not see him face up to Imran Khan, Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis and Abdul Qadir at Karachi. The first two Tests of that series in Pakistan were not beamed back at home. This was doubly strange, because Test matches from Pakistan had been shown live in India way back in 1982-83.
The change that took place from November 1989 to Hayden’s visit to India in 2001 explains a lot about the growth of an exceptional cricketer into a god created by fan-following. And the answer to the deification lies to a great extent in the television revolution that was witnessed during this period.
The sheer numbers make the Indian market a sweet spot for the every possible product. And the easiest way to reach millions in a country is through television.
However, India, with its closed economy and slow, hesitant stumble across the path of progress was one of the last to embrace the idiot box. Even considering the other third world countries, India was a late entrant. To put this in context, people in Pakistan had already been watching television programs for nearly one and a half decades before the first set appeared in a common Indian home.
It was little wonder then that the first Test series to be televised across India was played in Pakistan rather than at home. The local centres used to telecast when Test matches played in that particular city, but nationwide beaming had started with the one off Test between India and Sri Lanka at Madras in 1982.
In fact, in 1977, when Kerry Packer was revolutionising the way cricket was shown on TV, there were just 676,615 television sets in India, a country which by then had a population of over 600 million. At that stage, not a ball had yet been televised across the country for the national audience.
So, in the 1980s, international matches at home did become regular fare, and slowly One Day Internationals played away were also watched live. But for Test matches played in other countries, we had to depend on packaged highlights.
Yes, the third and fourth Tests in Pakistan were shown in 1989, and the nation watched a 16-year-old refuse to leave the ground after being hit on the nose and go on to save the Sialkot Test match. But, when he travelled to New Zealand, England and Australia, only one-day matches were beamed back. And so it remained till 1996.
But, before we go there, let us try to figure out the changes which led to the explosion in Indian television viewing as Tendulkar’s career flowered. It was a combination of many favourable happenstances.
In 1991, under pressure from the World Bank, India was forced to open its economy and allow foreign investment. The market, which had remained closed and constrained, opened up and along with it cable television made an entrance. Soon cable operators were running amok and elders in middle-class housing colonies were gravely shaking their grey heads, wondering how the distractions of 24-hour television would affect the education of their wards. But, their feeble resistance did not quite prosper. Even Gulf War could be followed on television after all. Indian metros were soon enmeshed with cables. First the cities, and then the villages fell to this invasion of the television.
Rights? What rights?
The year 1991 also saw another major change. With India hosting the path-breaking ODI tour of the recently back-in-fold South Africa, two television channels of the Rainbow Nation contacted the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) for television rights. It was a jolt for the Board who till now had often paid Doordarshan for telecasting home the Tests and ODIs. No one quite knew who owned the rights. After much leafing through the fine print, it was discovered that BCCI were indeed the owners. It made the Board realise that they had been unwittingly sitting on an untapped goldmine.
It took a gestation period for this potential money-spinner to reach its logical conclusion and coffers. ESPN and TWI started transforming the way Indians viewed home Tests, but the foreign tours remained relegated to ODIs and packaged highlights. Tendulkar’s resistance at Manchester had already been limited to file shots and imagination. His brilliance at Perth was savoured through the samples of those strokes as were aired in the excerpts. Later, his fighting hundred in Johannesburg was heard only on radio. But, all that changed in 1996.
The late Mark Mascarenhas, the Connecticut-based businessman of Indian origin, later became Tendulkar’s agent. But, before that he performed the magical transformation of cricket viewership in India. He honed in on the 1996 World Cup played in the sub-continent and showed BCCI the enormous market that lay in selling television rights. He bought the rights for an atrocious sum, and the profits he made were equally spectacular. The transmissions reached the remotest places of India, and also to the cricket-starved diasporas around the world, mainly in the United States. By then the Indian television industry had come of age. From the two channels when Tendulkar had made his debut, there were over 50 in 1996.
The World Cup saw major commercialisation. Ex-cricketers recruited as commentators were star attractions themselves. Every possible product was packaged with cricketing essence during the tournament, from the official soft drink to the official chewing gum. Advertisements were beamed in remote towns, featuring men of the stature of Courtney Walsh and Dickie Bird. The world woke up to the power of televising cricket in India and to Indians around the world.
ESPN already had major stakes. Star Sports joined in. After initial high-pitched battles over telecast rights, they formed a joint venture company ESPN-Star Sports, dividing up the spoils.
And immediately after the World Cup, for the first time, the Indians saw live images of Test cricket in England brought straight to their homes. They saw Tendulkar strike that supreme 122 at Birmingham as the rest of the batting collapsed around him. Since then every tour was telecast live. For some of the home series, Doordarshan too turned professional — with a facelift branding them channel DD Sports.
Before the television revolution, there were icons in India. But much of their exploits were heard over the radio, and the rest left to imagination. It did have the benefit of providing the players with fictitious characteristics. In the highlights package one seldom saw a ball pass the edge of the bat. Much less were reported in the glorified accounts. Live telecasts were indeed different in that respect, making the best players look human. Yet, before the age of satellite television, with the exception of Gavaskar and Kapil Dev seldom did cricketers have universally recognised faces.
The 1996 World Cup changed all that. By 2000 Zee had also made an approach into the frame. In 2003, Sony followed suit, with CEO Kunal Dasgupta voicing, “Cricket is the only product in India which unites the whole country, north-south, east-west. It transcends clans, religion, regional and language differences. You do not require words to explain Sachin Tendulkar.”
That was the magic that transpired out of 1996. Unlike the cliché, cricket did not become a religion. It actually transcended belief and faith. Major companies soon preferred buying slots between overs than in the breaks during election bulletins. The game had largely displaced politics as the major obsession of the nation. It now vied for the top spot with Bollywood. Players were instantly recognisable, even those who were on the very fringes of the Indian team. And someone like Sachin Tendulkar smiled out of every other advertisement hoarding. Just as cricket flowed through the consciousness of the country, Tendulkar was present in every heart, every soul, every home.
Besides, Jagmohan Dalmiya expanded his administrative ambitions to the International Cricket Council (ICC). He started organising audacious tournaments that the erstwhile cautious body would seldom have considered. The ICC Knockout tournament — later Champions Trophy — was one of the many such, and the television income was harvested to the full. The period saw a proliferation of ODIs, while Tests were also played fairly regularly. And with television beaming each and every moment, the successful players became superheroes.
Tendulkar and the television wave
By the time Hayden made his comment in 2001, Tendulkar had reached the pinnacle of popularity by riding this fantastic wave. But, it will neither be just nor honest to attribute his rise to demi-god-hood to the television revolution. The revolution took place, but Tendulkar climbed to that level of deification through his deeds.
The period from the 1996 World Cup to the end of the Australian tour in 2001 can be taken as a five year period of transition during which cricket changed from an immensely popular sport to one with a fanatical following. And during this time, Sachin Tendulkar had no rival as a batsman across the world. All of his dominance was seen on the television. Indians had never witnessed someone of their own stride so far beyond anyone else in the sporting world.
Gavaskar did have claims to being one of the best batsmen of the world, but the mantle was generally reserved for Viv Richards. Those who went by figures also put Javed Miandad and Greg Chappell at par. But, here was Tendulkar way, way ahead of the field. When he played those cover drives off the backfoot or those imperious pull shots with a quick swivel in those halcyon days of the 1990s, every viewer realised that he was seeing something uncanny, something exceptional. Be it the desert storms at Sharjah, or the Test hundreds at Birmingham ’96, Cape Town ’97, Chennai ’98, Chennai ’99 or Melbourne ’99, the story was always of genius unfolding. No Indian batsman had reached the top of the batting charts by dominating the best of bowlers in this way. And the television channels beamed each and every stroke, taking them to every cricket-loving home in India.
To put the difference between Tendulkar and the rest of the batsmen in this period in perspective, it makes sense to look at some data. During those five years between World Cup 1996 and Australian tour of India 2001, Tendulkar scored 11,204 runs in international cricket with 41 centuries! The closest rival in terms of runs was more than 2000 runs and 17 centuries behind him. The nearest in terms of centuries was 18 behind. In Tests, his average was 60.52, with no one else above 55. In ODIs, he combined an average of 46 with a strike rate of 89. No one came close. Brian Lara, his rival for the batting throne most of his career, trailed him by more than 20 runs an innings in Test cricket.
World Cup 1996 to 2000-2001 season – Tests
Batsman
M
Runs
Ave
100s
50s
SR Tendulkar (India)
44
4,237
60.52
17
13
SR Waugh (Aus)
54
3,963
51.46
14
14
AJ Stewart (Eng)
55
3,681
40.45
7
20
R Dravid (India)
43
3,660
53.82
9
18
G Kirsten (SA)
52
3,527
41.98
11
14
ME Waugh (Aus)
57
3,454
39.25
8
20
DJ Cullinan (SA)
50
3,435
47.70
13
11
BC Lara (WI)
48
3,390
39.88
8
16
MA Atherton (Eng)
52
3,207
35.63
7
16
N Hussain (Eng)
52
3,010
35.83
9
13
World Cup 1996 to 2000-2001 season – ODIs
Batsman
M
R
Ave
SR
100s
50s
SR Tendulkar (India)
166
6,967
46.13
89.25
24
29
SC Ganguly (India)
162
6,374
44.57
73.69
16
36
Saeed Anwar (Pak)
136
5,217
42.07
83.6
11
28
ME Waugh (Aus)
126
5,001
44.65
76.09
13
27
ST Jayasuriya (SL)
131
4,603
37.12
98.18
9
32
R Dravid (India)
144
4,596
36.76
67.91
7
30
MG Bevan (Aus)
134
4,461
54.4
75.31
5
31
G Kirsten (SA)
113
4,368
42.82
73.79
8
30
Inzamam-ul-Haq (Pak)
142
4,330
38.31
69.62
3
32
A Jadeja (India)
154
4,189
38.78
73.84
5
23
Ijaz Ahmed (Pak)
129
4,173
36.92
79.91
6
27
A Flower (Zim)
130
4,020
33.78
74.04
1
35
Contrary to popular belief, during this period when his reputation was sealed, Tendulkar actually led the Test field by a greater margin than the ODI scene.
And just for the sake of demonstrating the difference in the level of quality the viewers saw in these five transitional years, let me combine the two formats.
In Tests and ODIs combined from 1996-2001 what the viewers saw on Television
Batsman
M
Runs
Ave
100s
50s
SR Tendulkar (India)
210
11,204
50.69
41
42
SC Ganguly (India)
203
9,191
44.4
23
50
ME Waugh (Aus)
183
8,455
42.27
21
47
R Dravid (India)
187
8,256
42.77
16
48
Saeed Anwar (Pak)
174
8,069
44.09
19
45
G Kirsten (SA)
165
7,895
42.44
19
44
ST Jayasuriya (SL)
173
7,436
38.32
15
44
Inzamam-ul-Haq (Pak)
184
7,245
41.4
12
47
SR Waugh (Aus)
176
7,165
42.14
16
36
JH Kallis (SA)
160
6,791
43.25
13
42
A Flower (Zim)
162
6,596
39.02
8
48
BC Lara (WI)
139
6,585
40.39
16
33
It is not for nothing that most cricketers of that era believe that Tendulkar is by far the best batsman they ever witnessed.
Tendulkar continued without a rival till first his lower back and then his tennis-elbow affliction bore the strain of continuous cricket. The effects of playing 166 ODIs in five years, helping the Board rake in the television profits.
God he certainly was not, but he was indeed streets ahead of his fellow men. And during this transition phase, the television channels beamed his exploits without a pause. People accepted him as the platonic ideal of batsmanship, an established master of the art. And this was the Tendulkar whose fan-following had perplexed Hayden into uttering those oft-repeated words.
After 2003, Tendulkar went through that phase of recuperation, a phase during which he was no more the best in the world. But, by then he was already the biggest icon the cricket world had ever seen. A genius who came riding on satellite channels. His aura had already been etched. And there it would remain.
There was a second wind in the story of his greatness. He made his way back to the top in 2007 and for four years ruled world cricket yet again. He got 23 centuries during this period, 16 of them in Tests and seven in ODIs. During this period he was perhaps more impregnable as a batsman.
However, I do wonder whether he would have kindled the same fervour if he had entered the television as the compiler rather than destroyer. The excitement of domination was absent. And indeed, if Tendulkar had come to the fore in 2007, the radiance of his halo could have been dimmer. That has nothing to do with the quality of his batsmanship. He would not have coasted as the best in the world on the initial impetus of satellite television transmitting the images from every venue of the world.
Yes, Tendulkar benefitted from the sports channels and the television revolution, which allowed a cricket-crazy nation to watch every game ball by ball. Even the matches played far away that they had earlier reverse-engineered from clippings, newspaper pieces and often exaggerated reports.
But, the status of the near-divine batsman was achieved through his genius, by virtue of being far ahead of the rest of the field.
TRENDING NOW
(Arunabha Sengupta is a cricket historian and Chief Cricket Writer at CricketCountry.He writes about the history and the romance of the game, punctuated often by opinions about modern day cricket, while his post-graduate degree in statistics peeps through in occasional analytical pieces. The author of three novels, he can be followed on Twitter at http://twiter.com/senantix)
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