Playing It My Way: My Autobiography (50 page)

As we did our warm-up exercises on the pitch, I could feel the buzz inside the stadium, which was feeling more like an amphitheatre. All round there were excited faces. India were playing the most important match ever on home soil. No team had won the World Cup as hosts, but one good day and we could call ourselves world champions for the rest of our lives.

We managed to get off to a good start in the match thanks to an excellent early spell from Zaheer and some great fielding at point and cover from Yuvraj and Raina. Zaheer reeled off three maidens on the trot, which said it all. Sri Lanka lost Upul Tharanga for two to an excellent catch in the slips by Viru off Zaheer and we had sprinted off the blocks. While Zaheer was bowling very well, Sreesanth was not quite so effective from the other end. Harbhajan and I, fielding at mid off and mid on, kept telling him not to give up, saying that he just needed to land one ball on the spot and he would get us a wicket. He said he was not feeling well and felt like being sick. To his credit, he forced himself to keep going in the oppressive Mumbai heat. Sometimes you have to endure pain to succeed, especially when you are playing the World Cup final.

Sri Lanka fought back well through Kumar Sangakkara and Mahela Jayawardene, two of the finest batsmen in the world. But as was the case throughout the World Cup, Yuvraj made a vital breakthrough to get us back in the match by having Sangakkara caught behind for 48. Jayawardene, however, was still out there and he played one of the truly great World Cup final innings. His century set the match up for Sri Lanka, with 274 the target that faced us.

It was not insurmountable, but it was important for us to forge partnerships in the early overs, because the wicket was expected to become slightly easier as the match progressed. The outfield was dewy and I thought it was important for us to try to get the ball outside the thirty-yard circle to make it wet. That would mean the ball would stop swinging. Unfortunately for us, we lost Sehwag for a duck in the first over of the chase and it was down to Gambhir and me to build a platform. I hit a couple of crisp boundaries and was timing the ball well, but just when I thought the ball had stopped swinging, I was tempted to play a drive outside the off stump. That ball from Malinga swung and I edged it to the wicketkeeper and was out for 18. It was disappointing, and I won’t forget the walk back to the dressing room.

We were in a potentially dangerous situation when Virat Kohli arrived at the crease to join Gambhir. Virat had started the World Cup with a hundred against Bangladesh and now he finished off with a key innings in the final. The importance of his contribution is not always acknowledged, but his 35 was part of a key partnership, as both Gautam and Virat managed to score at a brisk pace and so the asking rate was never out of reach. Once Virat was out, Dhoni promoted himself up the order to negotiate the Sri Lankan off-spinners, Muralitharan, Randiv and Dilshan. It was the Gambhir–Dhoni partnership of 109 that won us the World Cup. Both played exceptionally well under intense pressure.

I have to confess that I did not actually see what millions of Indians watched with ecstasy and delight that night. I did not see my ultimate dream being fulfilled, the moment I had waited to savour since making my international debut in November 1989. The reason was that when Mahendra Singh Dhoni hit the winning six at the Wankhede Stadium, I was with Virender Sehwag in the dressing room praying. I wasn’t asking God to help us win. All I wanted was that God should do what was best for us, for Indian cricket and for the Indian cricket team. I had turned superstitious on the night and made Viru sit near me in one position. Neither of us ventured out till Dhoni’s shot had crossed the boundary. A little earlier, when it seemed that an Indian win was on the cards, Viru had wanted to go out of the dressing room to celebrate. I advised him not to till the match was finally over. I said to him that he could watch the moment a hundred times on television if he wanted to, but for the time being he should just sit where he was and pray. It was only after Dhoni’s shot had finally crossed the boundary that I went out.

Many people have asked me what I felt at that particular moment. Frankly, at first it was difficult to take in that we had won the World Cup. It was almost as if there was still a match left in the tournament. But when I ran onto the ground and embraced an emotional Yuvi, it was impossible to control my emotions. It was one of those life-changing moments and we wanted to live each and every second of it. While some players shouted and some cried, others were keen to go ahead with the victory lap in front of an ecstatic Wankhede crowd.

Virat and Yusuf Pathan lifted me onto their shoulders and someone gave me an Indian flag to wave. Being carried by my team-mates, waving the tricolour at my home ground, having won the World Cup – what more could I ask for? Life, to be honest, seemed complete. It was the greatest moment of my cricketing journey. Amidst all the euphoria, I remember telling Yusuf Pathan not to drop me. At this he said, ‘
Gir jayenge par aapko niche nahi aane denge.
’ (We may fall down but we will not let you come down.)

It felt astonishing. It was a kind of satisfaction I had never experienced before. Cricket’s greatest prize was finally ours. On our victory lap, I waved to the section of the crowd where I thought my children Sara and Arjun were sitting. I waved to them, hoping they would see me do so and come down. Luckily, they saw me wave and soon joined me in the middle. To be with my family while celebrating the greatest sporting moment of my life was special.

Anjali was not at the ground. She had stuck to her superstition of not coming to the stadium and she left home for the Wankhede only after we had won. She had a funny experience while driving to the ground. It was one of those nights when anything goes. Men and women were jumping on top of cars to celebrate and no one was objecting. The country had never seen anything like it. Just as Anjali was taking the turn to the Wankhede, a section of the crowd tried to get on top of her car to dance. At this point a couple of boys spotted her inside and said, ‘
Arre yeh unka gaadi hai, unko jaane do. Unke jaane ke bad humlog nachenge.
’ (Hey, it’s their [the Tendulkars’] car; let her go. We will dance after the car has dropped her off.) And they did exactly that. After Anjali was dropped at the main gate, they climbed on top of the car to dance, creating many dents, which we were happy to see as they brought back fond memories!

Something else that made the World Cup triumph really special was the fact that many of my team-mates dedicated the achievement to me. I felt overwhelmed. Once we had finished with the awards ceremony and the lap of honour, the scene of action moved to our dressing room. I opened the first bottle of champagne and subsequently made a point of getting it signed by all my team-mates. It now has pride of place in the cellar at my house.

We tried to make the most of the moment in as many different ways as possible. We took countless photographs. First it was the players, then we took some with Gary, who had just served out his last match as India coach. Paddy Upton and Mike Horn, both important members of our support unit, soon joined in and it seemed toally acceptable for adults to behave like children.

As my team-mates were posing with the trophy one by one, I remember wandering out of the dressing room to soak up the atmosphere. It seemed that not a single soul had left the ground. People were busy capturing every possible angle on their mobile phones. I saw Sudhir Gautam, now a familiar face in India as the man who paints his body with the tricolour and paints my surname and number ‘10’ on it, blowing his conch at full blast. The noise from his conch and the sound of the firecrackers blended together to create quite an atmosphere. It felt surreal.

I waved at Sudhir Gautam to come and join us inside the dressing room. He was startled to see me do so, to say the least. For him it was totally unexpected. It was already a night to remember for us; his was about to become even more memorable. I asked the security personnel to allow him into the dressing room and passed him the trophy to hold. He was overwhelmed. I felt a deep sense of satisfaction at being able to make him so happy. He had travelled with us all the way through the World Cup and it was our way of showing him and the rest of our fans that we cared. I only wish I could have let every supporter at the Wankhede pose with the trophy.

The players’ families soon joined in the celebrations and I remember trying to explain to Arjun and Sara the significance of the World Cup for a cricketer. I told them it was the pinnacle and could never be surpassed. Almost two hours after the victory, we finally left for the hotel. The normally short journey from the stadium to the hotel was one of the slowest but also one of the best of my life. While I had not seen a soul on my way to the ground in the morning, on the way back there was a sea of humanity and the journey took almost an hour.

Marine Drive was quite a sight. Although I remember dancing and celebrating as a kid after India’s first World Cup win in 1983, the memory is a bit of a blur. This was our moment. It was liberation. I had finally scaled cricket’s Everest and each and every soul on the streets of Mumbai was celebrating. We had brought joy to their faces and that’s all we could have asked for as Indian cricketers.

The entrance to the Taj Mahal Palace hotel had been cordoned off and the lobby was packed with people. When we entered we were presented with a bottle of champagne and a special cake, which I cut before heading up to our rooms on the sixth floor. The second round of celebrations was about to begin.

In the confines of my room, Anjali and I poured each other a drink and let our hair down. We plucked flowers out of the bouquets that were piled everywhere and put them behind our ears and started dancing to the music. This was the night of a World Cup triumph, so why should we restrain ourselves? In an instant all that time away from my family, missing out on seeing my children grow up, seemed worthwhile. Their father had finally become part of a World Cup-winning team, something he had strived for all his life.

The party went on into the early hours of the morning. With loud music blaring out, the doors to all the players’ rooms were wide open. Anyone could come in and have a drink and celebrate. In one memorable moment Virat, Bhajji and Yuvi went down on their knees and sang ‘
Tujme rabh dikhta hai yaara mai kya karu
’ (What to do, my friend, in you we see God himself!) from the film
Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi
and managed to seriously embarrass me.

At around 3 a.m., we were called to go up and join in a special celebration put together by the team management. A couple of hours later, I finally went back to my room to get some sleep. This time I bolted my door, knowing that otherwise some of my team-mates were bound to crash in, as the party was still in full swing.

At 7 a.m. I heard Zaheer Khan and Ashish Nehra banging on my door, wanting to share a drink. I just smiled to myself and went back to sleep.

The day after the final went by in a rush. After fulfilling the ICC’s requirements of a few photo shoots and meeting our president, Mrs Pratibha Patil, at Raj Bhavan, I finally made it home in the evening. It was a deeply emotional experience, made more memorable by my friends and neighbours, who welcomed me to our building by playing the dhol (drums) and letting off firecrackers. Every time I did something worthwhile in my career my friends and neighbours wanted to celebrate the homecoming, and normally I would ask Anjali to persuade them not to because I felt embarrassed by such celebrations – but the World Cup was an exception!