'Please call me Sachin'
Sachin Rana tells the Times of India how his whole identity was shaped after the success of Sachin Tendulkar
"I was always Sachin. I never knew who Pramod was," he says, "I never identified with that name. My grandfather introduced me to the game when I was two. Tendulkar was already a star when he made his Test debut and my parents say everybody started calling me Sachin. I would always be running around with bat and ball. By the age of 10, I was a huge Tendulkar fan. If a friend called up at home asking for Pramod, I wouldn't know what to say. Call me Sachin, I'd tell them. Pramod had disappeared long before I officially changed my name when I was in Class 9. It was not a difficult decision."
The venue of the match was not the handiwork of a smart-thinking Board, which may have wanted a village flavour to Tendulkar's last match for his state. It was due to the Ranji Trophy scheduling, which is done on a home-and-away basis, that Mumbai were pitted to play Haryana on their turf. By sheer chance, the setting of the match became as much a talking point as the farewell itself. This village background for the swansong of a modern-day legend may have seemed incongruous to begin with. But it turned out to be a perfect setting that connected two disparate worlds. And therein lay the significance of Tendulkar's last first-class match. What it symbolised may be greater, and more important, than his final bow at Mumbai's Wankhede stadium on November 18.