Last night's 175 from Sachin was brutal. It would have sent the biggest of the modern day hitters scurrying for cover dripping wet in their diaper.
What was so beautiful and fascinating about that innings was the ferocity of his game that turned up after 10 years of stuffing it in deep in his rather large trouser pockets, where his repertoire of strokes, bank passbooks are safely kept. It was the mid-90's Sachin all over again and it brought me exact memories of the Australian series at Sharj...
