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PERSEVERANCE


                                                              Main Khelega!      
                                          The Making of a Champion called
                                                            Sachin Tendulkar



 Sachin Tendulkar is a cricketer all-time greatest batsmen. ... , making him the youngest player to do so. ... leading scorer, Tendulkar was namedcaptain of the Indian national team.

                                                          
24 February 2010: An entire nation erupted with joy as Sachin Tendulkar became the first cricketer to score a double century in a One-day International. In 2961 previous games in international cricket, no man had been able to go on to the 200-turn mark. And it was only fitting that the man with the highest number of runs in Test and One-day cricket (and the highest number of centuries in both forms of the game) had achieved the feat.

          As newspapers filled column space with stories and vignettes chronicling the life of India's greatest cricketer, I thought about my favorite Sachin story. It's a story that Navjot Sing Sidhu, former Indian cricketer-turned-politician, loves to tell. While the world rises to salute a truly outstanding cricketer, this little tale probably explains, in some small measure, the making of a genus. a giant among men. The little Legend!

        December  1989, Sialkot, Pakistan. It was the fourth Test match of the India-Pakistan series. And, as it happens, just the fourth Test of Sachin's career.

        Making his debut at sixteen, the cherub-faced, fuzzy-haired Sachin had already won admirers, being widely seen as precocious talent. However, several young stars had sparkled briefly in India's cricketing firmament and then, almost as suddenly, faded away-a gross injustice to their enormous talents. Let down on the long highway to success by a faltering mental make-up, that didn't quite back up their reserves of talent. Would Sachin go the same way? Was he being blooded too early for his own good?

      The series was level 0-0 after three Tests. Despite conceding a first inning lead of 65 in the fourth Test, Pakistan hit back strongly through blistering spells from Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram, reducing India to 38 runs for 4 wickets in their second innings. India was suddenly staring at defeat, with which they would lose the series too.

    In walked Sachin to join Sidhu. Experienced pros like Sanjay Manjrekar and Kris Srikkanth, Mohammed Azharuddin and Ravi Shastri had found the Pak attack too hot to handle and were back in the pavilion. How would the new kid on the block cope?

   Waqar bowled a nasty bouncer that went smack on Sachin 's nose. The poor boy was badly hit and nose began to bleed profusely. It made for a sad sight on TV, and most women watching were convinced that there ought to be a law to prevent a sixteen-year-old from being subjected to such brutality.

   As the Indian team physiotherapist rushed to offer first-aid and the Pakistanis gathered to check out the bloody sight, Sidhu recalls walking down to a shaken-and still bleeding-Sachin. As physio tried to stop the bleeding. Sidhu suggested to Sachin that he should retirt hurt and come out later. That would give him time to get his nose fixed, regain his composure and hopefully return to a less menacing attack. 'Go take a break,' said Sidhu. He feared this might just be the end of another promising career.

   'Come in, I'll attend to you,' said the helpful physio. But Sachin brushed them away, almost annoyed that they should even suggest that he walk away. 'Main khelega1!' he said. 'I'll play.' And, in that moment, says Sidhu, a star was born. Those two words verbalized the fierce determination of a young man who wasn't going to quit.

   Sachin could have gone into the relative comfort of the dressing room but he didn't. People watching would have understand room but he knew his heart wouldn't  understand. The heat was on. India was in trouble. The blood was staining his gloves, his shirt, his spirit.

   But the would have none of it. Main khelega it was. Sachin went on to score 57 runs and shared in the match saving 101-run partnership with Sidhu. With two words Main khelega-talent transformed into genius, that day in Sialkot.


   It's always like that. What separates champions from mere mortals is not just talent. It's attitude. It's mental strength. It's the willingness to fight when the chips are down. It's the main khelega sprit. The sprit that puts the team's need ahead of one's own interest. Main khelega says it's not just about me, it's about my team.

   There are in our lives when the pressure mounts and we feel like throwing in the towel and calling it quits. That's just the time when you need to put your hand up and be counted. Time to say main khelega.

    As a leader, you may often feel that the world is conspiring to knock you down. You may be looking to win but defeat stares you in the face. At times like these, all a leader looks for is a few good men in his team. For people who say main khelega. And this sprit is contagious. As one man puts his hand up, another hand goes up. And another. And a team starts believing in itself. In its ability to fight, and win.

   Over the last two decades, Sachin has entertained us with his performances. We've watched with awe as he's pulled off incredible wins. And we've watched with anguish when he's failed-and with him have crashed an entire nation's hopes. He has helped us live our dreams, helped us win. In his own way, he's helped us feel good about ourselves. Made us proud to be Indians.

    But perhaps Sachin's biggest contribution is teaching an entire nation to stand up and fight. To learn never to give up. To say main khelega.

   Some years down, long after the little master blaster has hung up his boots, when we tell our grandchildren about the exploits of a batting legend, we should remember to tell tem-and teach them-those two magic words that defined the sprit of the champion, and translated talent into performance.
                                                    
   Thanks, Sachin, for the entertainment. Thanks for all those wins. And yes, thanks for showing us the virtues of the main khelega sprit.

                                               
                                        
There will be times when the pressure mounts and you feel like throwing in the towel and calling it quits. That's just the time when you need to put up your hand and be counted. Time to say main khelega. I'll play. What separates champions from mere mortals is not just talent. It's attitude. It's mental strength.     

           

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