Throughout the long journey from prodigy to legend, Sachin Tendulkar honoured his gift

Sachin Tendulkar has announced that he will retire from cricket, after a career in which he scored 100 international centuries. I often imagined what it would be like to be that good - but looking at the challenges he faced, I'm not sure I'd want to.

All sportsmen wish they could be just a bit better. If only the ratio of good days to bad could be rebalanced slightly in your favour. If only the voice of self-doubt were quieter and more easily quelled. If only the threat of being dropped or demoted was not so ever-present. If only you spent less time preoccupied with if onlys.

Personally, not being greedy, I sometimes imagined how nice it would be to be about as good as Sachin Tendulkar, who announced on 10 October that he will retire from cricket this autumn, having scored 100 international centuries.

I am beginning to doubt the wisdom of my outlandish dreams. It is hard to be as good as Tendulkar. Professionally, in order to bat at number three for Kent, then briefly at number five for England, I had to compete with players who had roughly the same ability as me. So did Tendulkar: he faced constant comparisons with Brian Lara about who was the best batsman in the world. As if that wasn’t hard enough, he was also chasing the shadow of Bradman, the game’s colossus. Who got dealt the more difficult hand? It’s not easy being a cabinet minister who lives with the fear of being bundled out of a job in the next reshuffle; but it’s a lot easier than being prime minister.

There are three components of pressure: the personal ambition that comes from within, the professional demands of the game and, finally, the social context in which every career is played out. In each category, Tendulkar faced a stifling degree of pressure. Bradman also carried the expectations of his nation but, as nations go, the Australia of the 1930s wasn’t the greatest burden to bear. Not so modern India, with its 1.2 billion people, most of them cricket fans.

In 2005 I was taking part in a training camp in Mumbai when Graham Gooch arranged for a small group – which included Alastair Cook, Ravi Bopara and me – to chat about batting with Tendulkar. The security operation was as memorable as the conversation. The cricket ground was shut down; guards manned every door; Tendulkar was bundled into a private room by way of a back staircase. Was every routine visit to a cricket ground like this?

The following year, I watched him bat against England in Mumbai, shotless and subdued. Surely he should just free up and let his talent take over? Or so I wondered at the time. Now I marvel that he had survived 17 years before finally showing visible signs of relentless pressure.

In making Tendulkar an icon, India, in effect, took possession of its hero. He accepted the deal but it came at a price. In 24 years, he has never said anything memorable, done anything reprehensible or allowed the public to glimpse the contours of his personality. When a public persona becomes so allconsuming, it becomes a kind of lifelong method acting. In accepting the role of India’s cricketing saint, he relinquished many aspects of his humanity.

No sportsman is exactly the same man off the field as he is on it – but the on-field persona inevitably bleeds into the private person. Lara’s joyous flamboyance matched his hedonistic instincts. Rahul Dravid’s relentless self-improvement fitted his high-minded and academic sense of propriety. Tendulkar is extremely self-denying, as though he sees batting for India as a religious vocation. Having signed up as a child, the course was set. Perhaps that is why he has always remained close to a boyish group of friends he has known for decades, a light-hearted counterpoint to his earnest professional life.

As a teenager already moving in a man’s world, Tendulkar seemed to make an accommodation with the burdens that surely lay ahead. When he scored his first Test century as a 17-year-old, he did not leap in the air or pump his fist. Instead, he looked briefly up to the heavens, then modestly down at the ground, where his eyes stayed fixed. “I was given a great gift, a great talent,” his body language implied. “Much is expected, much to be given, duties to be honoured.” It looked as if a promise was being made, or even a vow.

The batting crease became his sanctuary from fame, somewhere he could escape the soap opera of his life. Some believe that he has stayed in the game too long. If so, who can blame him? It is on the pitch that he could rely on being left alone. Returning to civilian life after 24 years feels like departing a safely cloistered world. Cricket had its strictures but it was home.

For what now awaits? The media? It is too late, having avoided making public judgements for so long, to make a living out of them now. Politics? Not his style. Business? Why bother? Hardest of all, the past will always offer itself for easy pickings – an endorsement here, an appearance there. Yet there is a huge difference between the roar of a live crowd and the reverence of a charity dinner or a staged television-studio audience. Great fame is bad enough. But only when celebrity is divorced from performance does it become properly deadly.

The counterargument that he is rich and comfortable counts for very little. He once owned a Ferrari but where could he drive it? Pleasures without purpose wane quickly.

Underlying it all is another melancholy fact. Though it is certainly a blessing to find the perfect medium to express your talent, as Tendulkar did with batting, it is equally cruel that fate takes it away so early in life. He is just 40. The artist, the virtuoso, the writer, even the singer: they all outlast the athlete.

The life of a sportsman, like a mathematician’s, is horribly top-loaded. The great work happens early. In the context of a life, every sportsman must be a prodigy. In his sustained excellence, Tendulkar, the ultimate prodigy, has postponed the moment that always had to come: the beginning of the rest of his life, the greatest challenge of all.

Ed Smith’s latest book is “Luck: a Fresh Look at Fortune “(Bloomsbury, £8.99)

Sachin Tendulkar, who recently announced his coming retirement from cricket. Photograph: Indranil Mukherjee/Getty Images.

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 17 October 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The Austerity Pope

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The rise of the green mayor – Sadiq Khan and the politics of clean energy

At an event at Tate Modern, Sadiq Khan pledged to clean up London's act.

On Thursday night, deep in the bowls of Tate Modern’s turbine hall, London Mayor Sadiq Khan renewed his promise to make the capital a world leader in clean energy and air. Yet his focus was as much on people as power plants – in particular, the need for local authorities to lead where central governments will not.

Khan was there to introduce the screening of a new documentary, From the Ashes, about the demise of the American coal industry. As he noted, Britain continues to battle against the legacy of fossil fuels: “In London today we burn very little coal but we are facing new air pollution challenges brought about for different reasons." 

At a time when the world's leaders are struggling to keep international agreements on climate change afloat, what can mayors do? Khan has pledged to buy only hybrid and zero-emissions buses from next year, and is working towards London becoming a zero carbon city.

Khan has, of course, also gained heroic status for being a bête noire of climate-change-denier-in-chief Donald Trump. On the US president's withdrawal from the Paris Agreement, Khan quipped: “If only he had withdrawn from Twitter.” He had more favourable things to say about the former mayor of New York and climate change activist Michael Bloomberg, who Khan said hailed from “the second greatest city in the world.”

Yet behind his humour was a serious point. Local authorities are having to pick up where both countries' central governments are leaving a void – in improving our air and supporting renewable technology and jobs. Most concerning of all, perhaps, is the way that interest groups representing business are slashing away at the regulations which protect public health, and claiming it as a virtue.

In the UK, documents leaked to Greenpeace’s energy desk show that a government-backed initiative considered proposals for reducing EU rules on fire-safety on the very day of the Grenfell Tower fire. The director of this Red Tape Initiative, Nick Tyrone, told the Guardian that these proposals were rejected. Yet government attempts to water down other EU regulations, such as the energy efficiency directive, still stand.

In America, this blame-game is even more highly charged. Republicans have sworn to replace what they describe as Obama’s “war on coal” with a war on regulation. “I am taking historic steps to lift the restrictions on American energy, to reverse government intrusion, and to cancel job-killing regulations,” Trump announced in March. While he has vowed “to promote clean air and clear water,” he has almost simultaneously signed an order to unravel the Clean Water Rule.

This rhetoric is hurting the very people it claims to protect: miners. From the Ashes shows the many ways that the industry harms wider public health, from water contamination, to air pollution. It also makes a strong case that the American coal industry is in terminal decline, regardless of possibile interventions from government or carbon capture.

Charities like Bloomberg can only do so much to pick up the pieces. The foundation, which helped fund the film, now not only helps support job training programs in coal communities after the Trump administration pulled their funding, but in recent weeks it also promised $15m to UN efforts to tackle climate change – again to help cover Trump's withdrawal from Paris Agreement. “I'm a bit worried about how many cards we're going to have to keep adding to the end of the film”, joked Antha Williams, a Bloomberg representative at the screening, with gallows humour.

Hope also lies with local governments and mayors. The publication of the mayor’s own environment strategy is coming “soon”. Speaking in panel discussion after the film, his deputy mayor for environment and energy, Shirley Rodrigues, described the move to a cleaner future as "an inevitable transition".

Confronting the troubled legacies of our fossil fuel past will not be easy. "We have our own experiences here of our coal mining communities being devastated by the closure of their mines," said Khan. But clean air begins with clean politics; maintaining old ways at the price of health is not one any government must pay. 

'From The Ashes' will premiere on National Geograhpic in the United Kingdom at 9pm on Tuesday, June 27th.

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

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