Another 10 times, with passion drawn from I don't know where, Tendulkar said: "I got some great advice, you know. The general feeling was that I was playing too many shots."
"I was told that I had to work hard, hang in, for the first 15 minutes, and things would change," Tendulkar said with a twinkle in his eye each time.
Coffee was brought in, tea was brought in, water was brought in. Tendulkar looked at his watch, looked at the harried looking journalists who were in for a word or two from the bosses for not getting an exclusive. Maybe he knew what folks might feel after waiting for hours going away without him telling them his story exclusively. Tendulkar stood up, stretched his legs, walked about the small hall, and then he sat down, saying: "All right, let's do it."
He tried and managed to make everyone he talked with feel special. (To illustrate that everyone has a special ability, he told me, "I can't write like you"; though I wouldn't be surprised if he could write well too if he wanted and tried.)
So, what was the turning point in his career?
As I wearily walked out of the room, feeling sorry for the great little man, I heard him say with warmth and even thrill: "My innings of 58 or 59 odd in the second Test. I'd decided that I was not going to go off the park. I was going to fight it out..."
And so the story went, and so the master went on as the evening went.