The Atlas who would not shrug...

[Holysmoke]

In Greek mythology, Atlas was the Titan who was cursed to hold the heavens on his shoulders, supporting the weight of the skies for all eternity. Ayn Rand thought this terribly unjust, and suggested that he didn't deserve the punishment, and he should shrug off the burden and end his suffering. In times to come, it is possible that the world Atlas would be replaced by a historical, non-mythological, living and breathing embodiment of the story. For twenty years, Sachin Tendulkar has given his blood, sweat and tears to Indian cricket and by extension to the whole of India. For much of those years, he has borne the burden alone, and not once has he given a hint of wanting to shrug it off. As he soldiered on alone in the fifth ODI against Australia, it seemed as if nothing had changed. The Indian team was supposed to be on the cusp of becoming the best ODI side - at least according to the rankings - but when it came right down to the crunch, it was the familiar old tale of one man standing up while the rest crumbled around him. It was impossible not to think of another improbable chase a decade ago, when India played Pakistan in a Test match at Chennai in 1999. Then, as now, India were facing a foe that made the intensity and quality of matches rise beyond the ordinary. Then, as now, India's efforts in the field and with the ball left something to be desired. Then, as now, one man alone stood between the opposition and an epic Indian victory. And tragically, then as now, India stood on the cusp of greatness before it was cruelly snatched away. Actually, Tendulkar stood on the cusp of greatness - the rest of the Indian team hadn't contributed too much to be deserving winners. When he came out to bat today, it didn't look as if he was going to compose a classic. He seemed weighed down by the impending 17,000 run landmark. Once he crossed it however, the Tendulkar of old started to re-appear. Vintage flicks, delectable cuts, power-packed pulls, and jaw-dropping straight drives all made their appearance as the innings progressed. Sure this was a weakened Australian side, but a bowling attack of Hilfenhaus, Watson, Hauritz, Bollinger and McKay was still decent enough. And when you have a total of 350 as a cushion, a decent bowling attack is more than enough to do the job on most occasions. All around him wickets continued to tumble, but the diminutive Tendulkar stood tall. As Indian fans despaired, he never gave up. And by continuing to dazzle, he rekindled hope in a billion hearts. With every stroke, every lofted shot, every tight single - the country lurched, stepped and danced to one man's tune. And as he got us closer and closer, we dared to dream about the impossible. And then it happened. The miracle ended. A debutant bowler had a wicket whose significance is unlikely to be matched in his international career. As Tendulkar's mis-timed paddle-scoop rose high in the air, a billion voiceless thoughts would have raced through the fans - through our - heads. "Let it carry over the short-fine leg. Please, God almighty let it carry over him." "Let him drop it. Let the pressure get to him." "No. He can't be out! It can't end like that! Noooooo!" The pin-drop silence in the stadium was a silent homage by ordinary men to the man who had given them so much more than they could. The silent applause gave way to the more traditional one as the Atlas of Indian cricket made a slow and interminable walk back to the pavilion. Was he too thinking of Chennai '99? Did he dare hope that his team-mates would do the job? Was he racked by the thought that he had left another chase unfinished? I don't know, and I don't presume to know. What I do know is that in his time at the crease there were 318 runs scored off the bat off 287 balls. He made 175 off 141, scoring more than 55% of the runs in less than 50% of the balls. What I know is that from a starting asking rate of 7 an over, to seeing it balloon to 8 an over, he departed leaving the batsmen to come after him with the task of getting just 6 an over for 3 overs. What I know is that everyone who watched even a part of his innings should feel privileged and honoured, because they have seen sublime genius at work. What I know is that he set out to achieve a win for India single-handedly. He had seen the generous bowling and fielding display which saw India gift Australia runs by the bucketful, he had seen catches that ought to be taken dropped, and in a rare gesture of symbolic defiance, he had thrown the ball to the ground in disgust, in frustration - after pouching a fine catch off the last ball of the Australian innings. Every stroke of his while batting seemed to say that no matter what the challenge, I will do it. What I know is that no matter how much pain the fans felt, no matter how hard Team India was hit by the loss, none of that could match the pain that Sachin Tendulkar felt. That he can feel more pain than the youngest team member and the oldest fan, is a fact that deserves a story by itself. But for me, that is enough to forget my pain and stand in unreserved applause for the man who makes me feel more Indian than any other. © Cricbuzz http://cricbuzz.com/cricket-news/21336/The-Atlas-who-would-not-shrug

[Sachinism]

A modern day Atlas for sure. Carries the hopes of millions for 20 frikkin years