Playing It My Way: My Autobiography

by Sachin Tendulkar

  Things had come to such a pass at one point that we weren’t sure if the tour would actually carry on. There were conflicting reports everywhere and the atmosphere was one of mistrust and confusion. The situation came to a head twenty-four hours before the start of the third Test match, when it was finally decided by the Indian and South African boards, rather than by the ICC, that Mike Denness should not officiate in the match. Denis Lindsay, the former South African wicketkeeper, was the replacement, and the match went ahead, but it was labelled an unofficial Test match by the ICC.

  Not everything was right about it after all the acrimony, which I must say was largely unnecessary. Mike Denness’s decisions had led to a crisis that had ended up dividing the cricket world down the middle. It was an avoidable incident and one that left everyone bitter in the end.

  * * *

  India in South Africa 2001

  1st Test. Bloemfontein. 3–6 November 2001

  India 379 (SR Tendulkar 155, V Sehwag 105; S Pollock 4–91, M Hayward 3–70) and 237 (SS Das 62, V Sehwag 31, SR Tendulkar 15; SM Pollock 6–56)

  South Africa 563 (L Klusener 108, HH Gibbs 107, G Kirsten 73, J Kallis 68, ND McKenzie 68; J Srinath 5–140, A Kumble 3–132) and 54–1

  South Africa won by 9 wickets

  2nd Test. Port Elizabeth. 16–20 November 2001

  South Africa 362 (HH Gibbs 196, MV Boucher 68*; J Srinath 6–76, SR Tendulkar 1–22) and 233–5 dec (JH Kallis 89*, SM Pollock 55*; J Srinath 2–28, H Singh 2–79)

  India 201 (VVS Laxman 89, SC Ganguly 42, SR Tendulkar 1; SM Pollock 5–40) and 206–3 (R Dravid 87, D Dasgupta 63, SR Tendulkar 22*; M Hayward 2–58)

  Match drawn

  South Africa won the series 1–0

  13

  A GLORIOUS ENGLISH SUMMER

  Within a week of returning from South Africa we faced Nasser Hussain’s Englishmen at home in December 2001. Nasser, nowadays a respected commentator, played hard and came up with some ultra-defensive tactics against me. It was in this series that Nasser instructed his left-arm spinner Ashley Giles to bowl from over the wicket and consistently pitch the ball way outside my leg stump. Nasser and Giles were counting on the fact that I would have limited scoring options off balls bowled there and were hoping to frustrate me and induce me to play a false shot. They had essentially given up any attempt to get me out in favour of trying to get under my skin.

  While Giles did manage to have me stumped, for the first time in my Test career, in the third Test in Bangalore, overall these tactics had little impact on the result of the series. I scored a lot of runs in all three Test matches and was declared Player of the Series.

  I was reminded of this series when Nasser, who is a good friend, met me a couple of years later in South Africa during the 2003 World Cup. We were in the washroom during the inaugural function and Nasser jokingly started the conversation, saying, ‘So I am in the washroom with the great Mr Tendulkar.’ It was a minute-long conversation and we were both enjoying ourselves. It was friendly banter between two people who have great regard for each other. From memory, the conversation went something like this:

  NASSER: You have to agree that I was successful in stopping you and getting you frustrated during the 2001 England tour of India when I got Ashley Giles to bowl to you from over the wicket.

  SACHIN: You did indeed, but despite his efforts, my batting average for the series was 76, with scores of 88, 103 and 90 in the three Test matches, and I was in fact nominated Player of the Series. I would love to have that average right through my career.

  We won the series 1–0, a result that gave us considerable confidence as we looked forward to the return tour of England the following summer. It looked likely to be an enthralling series.

  Some thoughts on batting

  It was in the early stages of the 2002 tour of England that I first gave a masterclass. It was at the Rose Bowl, where we were playing a warm-up game against Hampshire, and it was organized by Mark Nicholas for Channel 4 television. I enjoyed talking to a group of youngsters about the basics of batting, including how to grip the bat.

  People have often commented on my own grip, which is very low down on the handle. It all goes back to when I started playing cricket when I was eleven with my brother Ajit, who is ten years older. As I didn’t have a bat of my own, I had to use Ajit’s full-size bat and the only way I could cope with the weight at that age was to hold the bat right at the bottom of the handle. Some coaches suggested changing my grip, and I did experiment, but it never felt right. I had got used to feeling the end of the handle pressing against the inside of my forearm and if I gripped the bat further up I didn’t have that, and batting just didn’t feel natural.

  That’s not to say that my technique didn’t change at all, though. Throughout my career, I was always looking to improve and constantly tried new things to cope with different situations. My backlift changed significantly over the years, for example. I used a pretty heavy bat and I was sometimes encouraged to move to a lighter one. Again, I did try but I never felt comfortable, as my whole bat swing depended on that weight. When I was hitting a drive, I needed the weight to generate the power. It was all to do with the timing. To me the bat should be an extension of your arm, and if you’ve reached the stage where it’s become an extension of your arm, why do you need to change?

  What mattered to me most when I was batting was feeling comfortable. As long as I felt comfortable, it didn’t matter where I was playing or who I was playing against. If you make technical adjustments, such as moving to a lighter bat, to cope with different conditions, there’s a risk of making yourself feel uncomfortable and of thinking too much about your technique. I’ve always felt that I’ve batted best when my mind has been at the bowler’s end of the pitch, not at my end. In fact, for both batsmen and bowlers, I’ve always believed that cricket is played best when your mind is at the opposite end and that problems occur when your mind is stuck at your own end.

  For example, if a bowler is thinking too much about bowling no-balls, he’s not going to be able to bowl what he wants to bowl. Instead, his mind should be at the batsman’s end, focusing on where he’s going to pitch the ball, which way he’s going to swing it and so on. As a batsman, if I’m not consciously worrying about my footwork or my backlift or my wrist-work, then I know that I’m in the right space, because my mind needs to be at the opposite end, figuring out what the bowler is trying to do. There’s no time to think about both ends at the same time. So in general it always seemed to me that if I was comfortable with my gear, it would allow my mind to be at the opposite end and I had a better chance of playing well.

  India in England, the Test series, July–September 2002

  I have always enjoyed playing in England, but on the 2002 tour it took the team a little time to adjust to the conditions. The first of the four Tests, at Lord’s, started on 25 July 2002 and England won pretty convincingly, with Hussain making his highest score for five years and Michael Vaughan also contributing a century. For India, the high point was my friend Ajit Agarkar’s second-innings hundred, and I was delighted to see his name go up on the famous honours board in the dressing room.

  We knew we needed to be more competitive in the next Test at Trent Bridge ten days later if we were to stay alive in the four-match series. Once again England posted a huge score, with Vaughan again in good form, and we were faced with batting out the last day to survive. The pitch was assisting the bowlers and quite a few balls were taking off from a good length, while some were keeping low. In difficult circumstances, Rahul and I put together an important partnership. There were occasions when we were beaten by balls which had either taken off or kept low and all we did was smile. We chatted at the end of every over but never once talked about the deliveries we had missed. It was natural that the ball would occasionally beat us on a fifth-day wicket offering uneven bounce; we enjoyed the challenge.

  Rahul got a hundred and both
Sourav and I fell in the nineties. Sourav was out for 99 while I was bowled for 92 by part-time off-spinner Michael Vaughan to what was probably the best ball he ever bowled. The ball pitched in the rough outside my off stump and turned a long way to go through the gap between bat and pad to hit the stumps. That we managed to hold on for a draw, thanks to some dour resistance from wicketkeeper Parthiv Patel, a teenager at the time, was an important statement and it laid the foundation for the fightback at Headingley in the third Test.

  There was a long gap between the second and third Tests, which allowed us to unwind and refocus. By now we had come to terms with the conditions and were feeling more relaxed. We were enjoying ourselves socially, going out to interesting restaurants to try out different types of food and spending a lot of time together, which is always essential in the middle of a difficult tour.

  It was around then that a friend of mine suggested visiting the famous Harry Ramsden’s, in Guiseley in West Yorkshire. This restaurant, I was told, served great fish and chips and Ajit Agarkar and I decided to try out the fare. There was one item on the menu titled Harry’s Challenge, which invited the customer to eat a giant portion of fish, either cod or haddock, served with chips, bread and butter and two other side dishes. If successful, the head chef would personally sign a certificate for the customer. I’ve always been a big eater, so I decided to take on the challenge. I must say I managed the giant portion of fish fairly comfortably and also polished off the salad and other side dishes served to me. The only thing I did not eat was the chips, which I thought might be just a little too fattening. Impressed with my performance, the chef signed my Harry’s Challenge certificate all the same.

  Third Test, Headingley, 22–26 August 2002

  The wicket was very damp at the start of the Headingley Test on 22 August 2002. Despite this, we decided to bat first after winning the toss. We were all in agreement that we should put runs on the board and try to put the English under pressure. Sehwag got out early but then Rahul Dravid and Sanjay Bangar, our makeshift opener for the game, put together an excellent partnership of 170 that turned things our way. Batting wasn’t easy on a fresh wicket and they both played exceptionally well, leaving a lot of balls outside the off stump.

  I went in to bat in the last session of day one and decided to wear an inner-thigh guard. I had never used one before, even in practice, but Andrew Flintoff was getting the ball to jag back in to the batsmen and I thought the inner-thigh guard might be a sensible protection against injury. However, I soon realized that my stance had completely changed. Normally the forearm of my bottom hand rests on my thigh while I take stance, but at Headingley it felt completely different because of the new guard. I immediately decided to get rid of it and the experiment was never tried again.

  In this innings I was circumspect to start with and decided to play out the day, waiting for my opportunity the next morning. Flintoff bowled a hostile spell and I really had to knuckle down. He was getting the ball to swing and bounce and there was not much I could do but defend. The following morning Matthew Hoggard, who had the ability to swing the ball both ways, also bowled impressively, getting the ball to move away from the bat at good pace. Quality outswing is difficult to negotiate and I had to be watchful while playing big drives on the rise. Shot selection in this innings was the key.

  Andrew Flintoff produced another really probing spell. He was bowling into Sourav’s body and it was decided that I would face up to him while Sourav, a left-hander, took as much strike as possible against Ashley Giles, who was once again bowling a defensive line to me outside my leg stump. When we went back for tea to the dressing room, Sourav said, ‘Woh beech wale Flintoff ka spell humne kya jhela yaar.’ (We did really well to see off Flintoff’s spell.) I couldn’t resist pulling his leg and jokingly said to him, ‘Humne jhela? Saala maine jhela hain!’ (Did we? I was the one who negotiated Flintoff!) The whole dressing room burst out laughing.

  In the third session of the day we shifted gears and launched into the English bowlers, who were gradually starting to tire. It was one of those rare matches in which we refused to take the light even when the umpires offered it to us. We were dominating proceedings and there was no reason to go off.

  In the end the umpires came up to us and said that as they could not see the ball they were calling it a day. I was unbeaten on 185 and we had a mammoth score on the board. We could not lose the Test match from that position and we already had enough runs for our bowlers to play with. By the time England’s turn came, their task would be even more difficult, because the wicket was becoming uneven and the odd ball had started to keep low. In fact, it was a low bounce that cost me my wicket on the morning of the third day, when I was lbw to Andrew Caddick for 193. We finally declared our first innings at 628–8, one of our highest ever scores on English soil.

  The bowlers took over and from the start of the English innings managed to put them under pressure. Kumble and Harbhajan bowled beautifully in tandem in conditions that were not so helpful for spinners and picked up three wickets each in the innings. There were no big partnerships and we kept taking wickets at regular intervals, finally bowling England out for 273 and then enforcing the follow-on. Our huge first-innings score had allowed us to put a lot of fielders in catching positions and we attacked the whole time.

  In the second innings, with close to 400 runs in the bank, we kept up the pressure and gave each English batsman a hard time. Even Nasser, who scored a hundred in the second innings, wasn’t spared and there was a lot of banter in the middle. We were all extremely motivated and did not want a single English batsman to settle down and take control. Nobody held back and our bowlers made regular inroads into the English batting. Each wicket was followed by a lot of talk and the new batsman was given a rousing welcome. When Andrew Flintoff got out for a pair, caught by Dravid at slip off Zaheer Khan, our left-arm fast bowler, we knew we were within striking distance of a famous victory. Anil did the rest, picking up four wickets, and we bowled England out for 309, winning the match by an innings and 46 runs.

  At Trent Bridge in the previous Test we had played well to draw the match and now we had cashed in at Headingley. Kumble bowled his heart out for his seven wickets in difficult conditions and all the other bowlers – Zaheer, Ajit Agarkar, Sanjay Bangar and Harbhajan – chipped in with important wickets.

  Fourth Test, The Oval, 5–9 September 2002

  We followed up with another very good performance at The Oval. Rahul played a gem of an innings and his 217 allowed the rest of the batting to revolve around him. This match had special significance for me because it was my 100th Test. I was nervous and excited on the morning of the game and the chief executive of Surrey County Cricket Club, Paul Sheldon, presented me with a commemorative plaque. A special announcement was made and when it was my turn to bat people were expecting me to carry on from where I had left off at Headingley. I hit some good shots on my way to my half-century, but then I unexpectedly got out to a ball I completely misread.

  I could see the ball in Caddick’s hand as he was about to start his run-up and it was clear that the shiny side was on his right side, or the on side. With normal swing, that would indicate an outswinger, so I said to myself here’s an opportunity for a big drive and I was ready to play the ball between mid off and cover. To my complete surprise, the ball came in a long way and hit me on my heel. I have rarely been beaten so comprehensively and was out plumb lbw. The ball had reverse-swung and it was the first and only ball that did so in the innings. In normal circumstances Caddick didn’t bowl big inswingers, but got the ball to cut in to the batsmen. On this one occasion he somehow got the ball to reverse-swing a mile. It was particularly difficult to deal with because it was a Yorker-length delivery.

  It was unusual for me to misread a bowler’s swing in that way, as I normally backed myself to work out what the bowler was up to by watching the ball in his hand. For example, every time Ben Hilfenhaus, the Australian fast bowler,
held an old ball cross-seam, I knew he would bowl a bouncer – and I would be prepared for it. This strategy came in handy during the India–Australia series in India in 2010, when I managed to score a double hundred in Bangalore. Similarly, I noticed that the Pakistan fast bowler Shoaib Akhtar would swing his bowling arm twice before he delivered his effort ball as he tried to generate more pace into the delivery. Again, I would be prepared for it.

  As for spin bowlers, I have always monitored a bowler’s release point to work out what the bowler was planning. In the case of the Sri Lankan legend Muttiah Muralitharan, he would have his thumb on top of the ball when bowling a doosra. For his normal off-spin deliveries, he had his thumb below the ball. We once had a conversation in the dressing room on how to pick Murali’s doosra and I told everyone that all they needed to do was watch his thumb. One day, we were practising at the SSC Ground in Colombo when Murali came to the ground. Bhajji decided to go up and ask him how to bowl the doosra. Murali told Bhajji to use his thumb to support the ball from the top – that was the secret. I had no idea about this conversation until Bhajji told me later. I felt very gratified that I had worked it out for myself.

  Being able to spot the doosra helped me a lot, and not just when I was batting. When I did an over of commentary during the final of the IPL in May 2013, I said on air that Bhajji had just bowled a doosra to dismiss the South African fast bowler Chris Morris. Morris had played for conventional off-spin when the ball had actually gone the other way. The commentators, including Harsha Bhogle on air, said they were impressed because they had not been able to pick the doosra and the replay had not yet been shown.

  I should also say here that there were other occasions when I found it difficult to figure out what a bowler was planning to do. One bowler I found particularly challenging in this respect when I first faced him was the New Zealand fast-medium bowler Dion Nash. His action was such that I thought he would bowl inswingers at me, which he never did. I got out to Nash on the flattest of decks because I played for the inswinger when the ball was actually an outswinger. Eventually I worked him out, and even got a hundred against him in Wellington, but it did take me a while to do so.