HOW SACHIN DESTROYED MY LIFE...
But Gave Me An All Access Pass to the World of Cricket
Vikram Sathaye
Popular Prakashan; 208 pages; Rs 250
On February 24, 1988, when a 14-year-old curly-haired kid took the crease for Shardashram Vidya Mandir against St Xavier's High School in the semi-final of the Harris Shield, the face of Indian cricket changed forever. "The boy is called Sachin Tendulkar," groundsmen at the two nurseries of Bombay cricket - Shivaji Park and Azad Maidan - would tell spectators who would drop by to see the wunderkind bat. The name Tendulkar was well known in Bombay (now Mumbai) cricket circles, but that afternoon at Azad Maidan catapulted the young boy to national stardom. Little did we know that these nine letters would go on to form the most iconic name in the history of Indian sport.
Exactly two months shy of his 15th birthday, Tendulkar decimated the bowling attack that February afternoon, scoring a stupefying 326 not out. While Tendulkar was busy whacking the cricket ball to all parts of the ground and Indian cricket was discovering its new poster boy, careers of upcoming, aspiring batsmen from across the country were being destroyed - much like the St Xavier's bowling. He made every young batsman in the country look ordinary.
Vikram Sathaye, the author of How Sachin Destroyed My Life… was one of the many players who had to abandon their fledgling cricket careers thanks to Tendulkar's unfathomable brilliance. Sathaye scored 74 - in an under-15 match the same day Tendulkar scored his epic 326 - a performance he describes as something akin to Maninder Singh's batting contribution to Indian cricket.
Contrary to what the title suggests, the book is not only about the Little Master. Sathaye shares his experiences from his time spent with the Indian team as a sort of unofficial groupie, which gives him the opportunity to provide a unique, offbeat perspective of the Indian team in particular and the world of cricket in general.
The book begins with the author describing how he gave up hope of playing professionally and went the typical "Indian middle-class way" - pursuing an MBA and then landing a rewarding but humdrum multinational job. But he found his vocation when he accidentally entered the world of stand-up comedy and started mimicking Tendulkar and a host of other cricketers at corporate events. Tendulkar drily mentions in the foreword, "Vikram, I may have destroyed your initial life but you recovered pretty well after the follow on." Words may not be the great man's forte but he seems to have got this one spot on.
Sathaye is undoubtedly one of the funniest cricket humourists around and his unique sense of drollery is what makes this book tick.
Sample this:
When will India produce another Kapil Dev?
"My mother 65, father no more... not possible"
(Kapil Dev responding to a journalist)
The best of the lot is how Sathaye tries explaining to fast bowlers that sledging Virender Sehwag will forever be a futile exercise: "There is no point in sledging Viru as the decision to hit a six over third man has been taken a week before and it has nothing to do with the bowler."
Knowing Sehwag's intrepid ways, one could not have put it any better.
Away from all the banter, Sathaye also focuses on little-known facts about the Indian cricket team. For example, a look at how Tendulkar learned to spot Muttiah Muralitharan's doosra, how Sehwag formulated his own way of tackling the mystery man that was Ajantha Mendis, and why Yuvraj Singh became a victim of the word "talent" long before that dubious distinction was passed on to Rohit Sharma.
After years of playing the wily Muralitharan and enjoying decent success against him, Tendulkar finally got the hang of the doosra - a delivery that Muralitharan hoodwinked batsmen with for a major part of his famed career. Sathaye explains how Tendulkar watched for the Sri Lankan's thumb while facing him. "If you can see the thumb, then it's the doosra, otherwise it's the conventional off-spinner," Tendulkar told his teammates.
One of the most interesting passages from the book is a chapter on Ramesh Mane or simply "Mane kaka", the Indian team's official masseur. While millions of Indian fans would give an arm or a leg to touch Tendulkar or Rahul Dravid once in their life, Sathaye tells us about the man who does this for a living. He talks about how Mane kaka not only reinvigorates those aching limbs and muscles, but also prepares khichdi and dal for the Indian team on foreign tours.
Sathaye also shares anecdotes about international players, commentators, broadcasters and cricket journalists but he does all of this with the easy humour of the disinterested insider. For most of us, rubbing shoulders with the superstars of world cricket will always be a distant reality but Vikram Sathaye is lucky enough to be living that dream. And he seems to be making the most of it.
