My guide, colleague, role model: VVS Laxman on Sachin @50

I consider myself fortunate to have played with the greatest player of my generation. As Sachin Tendulkar completes a half-century in life, I look to him as the ultimate role model. For someone who saw stardom from the age of 16, and continues to be a hero to millions of people around the world, it stood out that he could remain so humble in the way he conducted himself, on and off the field.

It was great to be part of a group that took so much pride in playing for the country. If anyone got distracted or was not valuing preparation, he would step in. I will not take names, but there were many players who got carried away by being treated like demigods all of a sudden. Sachin would speak to so many of them and correct them.

At first sight

Sachin was an inspiration for me in my youth. Watching him take on the Pakistani fast bowlers at such a young age (on the 1989 tour), without any discomfort, rubbed off on a lot of players of my generation.

I first met him in 1994. Arshad Ayub, who had also played in Sachin’s debut series in Pakistan, introduced me to him. I had just finished playing in the U-15 and was playing for Arshad’s club in a two-day league in Hyderabad. One day, during a rain break, Arshad asked all the youngsters, including me, what our targets were.

The previous year I had played U-15 for Hyderabad and South Zone. So I told him my target was to represent Hyderabad U-16. He didn’t like my answer. He gave me Sachin’s example, how someone only a year or so older had faced bowlers such as Imran Khan, Wasim Akram and Abdul Qadir at the international level. He told me to aim higher. That same year, I went on to play Hyderabad U-16, U-19, U-21 and U-23. That is the effect Sachin had on me.

Sachin was also my first captain for India. Like anyone, I was overawed around him at first, but he made sure I felt comfortable. I will never forget the kind of confidence he had in me. I will also never forget a conversation we had in Johannesburg, during the South Africa tour of 1996-97. I had fractured my hand off a Lance Klusener bouncer and been ruled out of the third Test and ODI series. India had lost the first two Tests badly. I was sitting in a corner as every player came over to console me. Once everyone was done, he came to me and said I was different. Most players he knew, he added, would feel happy to leave a tough South Africa tour. “You actually want to stay here. It is a sign that you will have a very long career.”

We are both devotees of Sai Baba. Both our kit bags bore the words “Shraddha” and “Saburi” (“Faith” and “Patience”). He reminded me to keep those words in mind. He boosted my confidence immensely.

Best partnerships

When a sandstorm hit during the Sharjah Cup in 1998, I remember him telling our coach Anshuman Gaekwad, “Don’t worry, we will qualify for the final. I will ensure it happens.”

It was an India team in transition, and we needed to achieve the target with a very stiff asking rate. But Sachin was in that zone where nothing that was happening around him mattered. He dominated the Australian bowling like only he could. The two knocks he played against them in 1998 were the best I saw of Sachin in ODI cricket. He demoralised the bowlers. It was a treat to watch.

During our 353-run partnership in the 2004 Sydney Test, I knew he had come on with the plan to not play the cover drive. In the previous Test in Melbourne, he took me to the performance analyst’s room, where he vented his feelings about why he was getting struck out. While there were some unlucky dismissals that included poor umpiring decisions and getting caught down the leg side, he realised that playing the cover drive early in his innings was also leading to his downfall. I believe he spoke to his brother (Ajit Tendulkar) about this too.

For me, what was remarkable was seeing him have this degree of control over his instincts, even after reaching a double century, and even against part-time bowlers such as Damien Martyn and Simon Katich.

Our 91-run partnership in the 2004 Mumbai Test against Australia isn’t spoken about as much, but it was the toughest wicket I ever played in my career. It was a minefield. Sachin came to bat at No 4 to join me, and felt there was no point just hanging in there. We went on the attack and capitalised on every scoring opportunity. It gave us some runs (106) to defend and our bowlers did the rest. During partnerships such as that one, the conversations with Sachin were full of moments of learning.

Always, respect for the game

Sachin was so supremely gifted that he dominated while playing across generations. What stood out was his ability to change his game as injuries continued to mount. He evolved as a batter based on how his body was responding at a particular time. When he had the tennis elbow in 2003-04, we knew he wasn’t even able to lift a pencil. From there to come back and change his scoring areas, it showed not just his supreme ability but also how deeply he knew his body and understood the changes he had to make to avoid compromising on his run scores.

To watch him come back from so many career-threatening injuries and change and adapt was inspiring.

Did I like the Sachin of the ’90s more or the 2000s version? I just enjoyed Sachin the batter. I enjoyed discussing cricket with him. I have seen him dominate bowlers in the toughest of conditions and watched him grind through tough spells. He was a complete batter.

It’s not only about the runs and the centuries he scored. Despite being so gifted, he never compromised on his work ethic. After his last Test (at Wankhede in 2013), he went back out to bow his head and touch the pitch. That’s how much he respected the game.