Quite frankly, Tendulkar is the biggest name the game has seen

Rarely does a walk around Lord's Cricket Ground result in you not bumping into a high profile or influential figure in the game, and last Monday was no exception. After dropping a letter off at the England and Wales Cricket Board offices, I heard the familiar sound of leather on willow and inquisitively wandered over to the Nursery Ground to see what was going on. My arrival at the practice area was greeted by the unmistakable sight of Sachin Tendulkar batting in the nets.

Jock, the MCC Young Cricketers' assistant coach, and Nayan Doshi, the former Surrey left-arm spinner, were throwing to and bowling at Tendulkar. I asked a sweaty-looking Jock how long he'd been throwing balls at Tendulkar. "An hour," he wearily said. "How long does he normally bat for?" I inquired. "Oh, another hour or so," said Jock, "I'm only loosening up."

The encounter told you everything you needed to know about Tendulkar, and why he remains cricket's greatest modern player. Here, after 22 years of international cricket, 730 international appearances, 32,803 international runs and 99 international hundreds was a man still working harder and more diligently at his game than most, if not all, of the young pretenders posturing to take his throne. This was not a man resting on his laurels, a man who believed he had cracked the game. This was a man who knows that getting to and remaining at the top is only achieved through hard work and by paying attention to detail.

Tendulkar scored the first of his 99 international hundreds against England at Old Trafford in 1990. I played in the Test. In fact I was the bowler he nonchalantly eased through mid-off to reach three figures. It may seem something of a major oversight now, but I do not remember Tendulkar occupying a huge amount of our time at team meetings during that series. Yes, we were aware that we were playing against a highly-rated 17-year-old who looked pretty tasty. But at the time it was the genius of Mohammad Azharuddin who was occupying the focus of England's bowlers. Azharuddin had struck a brilliant 83-ball hundred against England in the first Test at Lord's and a thrilling 179 in the first innings at Old Trafford. Tendulkar was good but nobody would have predicted him achieving what he has.

During a 15- to 20-year career, the technique of a player changes. The alterations are subtle – evolution rather than revolution – but they take place and the result is that by the end of a career a player is often unrecognisable at the crease to when he first picked up a bat. With Tendulkar this is not the case. At the start of his career he was slighter in build and in his stance his legs were a bit straighter; a set-up that resulted in his head occasionally falling over to the off side. But the range of stroke played by the Little Master back in 1990 was similar to now. When looking at footage of his first Test hundred on YouTube, you see the same effortless clips through the leg side and the beautiful wristy back-foot square drives where he rose on to the tips of his toes to get over the ball. And against spin he still seems to have telescopic arms, extensions that allow him to reach out to get to the pitch of a ball when driving. At the time, as an angry opposing bowler, I didn't fully appreciate the quality of shots that were being played against me and my colleagues. I do now.

Tendulkar's brilliance runs far deeper than the gift of batting. No cricketer has ever had to cope with the attention and pressure he has. The fact that he has dealt with such intrusion, adoration and expectation and still managed to remain humble and human is as great a feat as compiling the runs he has. It is hard to imagine how the cricket-crazy Indian public will cope with his retirement. It will be like a Monarch passing away. Tendulkar is treated as a deity in India because of the masterful and relentless way in which he accumulates runs, but for me there have been two instances that have said as much about him and his character as the countless centuries he has amassed. They have highlighted just why he is such a great cricketer.

The first came on India's 2006 tour of England when Tendulkar struggled for form. He was as out of touch as I've seen and many pundits were planning, if not writing, his cricket obituary. How wrong we were.

During the series, England's fast bowlers seized on his uncertainty and went after him. Their plan was ruthless, centred on James Anderson, Chris Tremlett and Ryan Sidebottom bowling fast, straight and at his body. Watching one of the greatest players the game has seen being struck regularly about the body and bullied was not a pretty sight.

During the series, Tendulkar revealed a side many of us had not witnessed before. The characteristics he displayed were guts and bravery. What we witnessed was how highly he valued his wicket. Lesser men would have thought: "At this stage of my career, I don't really need this," and then played a rash shot to get out. Not Tendulkar, he fought and fought and fought. In its own way it was brilliant to watch.

The other occasion arose during last winter's Test series between India and Australia. In the third Test in Bangalore, India required 207 to win and Tendulkar scored the winning runs when he swept Nathan Hauritz for two. Tendulkar was playing his 171st Test and you would have thought he would have seen it all before. Many cricketers, sadly, develop levels of cynicism as their careers advance, but there has never been such a reaction from Tendulkar. The ecstatic roar and look of complete joy after he had hit the winning runs showed just how much enjoyment he still gets from winning games of cricket. An alien watching his first game of cricket would have been forgiven for believing it was the first occasion this had happened to him.

For me, the pride Tendulkar takes in his batting and the joy he still gets from playing – along with a fair bit of talent and a magnificent work ethic – are the reasons he has managed to stay at the top for as long as he has.

Tendulkar's greatness comes from his consistency and longevity. Many players are capable of producing the occasional moment of brilliance but very few can sustain a level of performance that is truly outstanding for more than 20 years. This is not achieved through possessing a god-given talent; it is achieved through having a deep love of the game, a passion that drives you to regularly spend two hours quietly batting on your own away from the spotlight and millions of fans.

Cricket is a game of statistics and, in the same way it is hard to believe any player will surpass Sir Donald Bradman's Test average of 99.94, Sir Jack Hobbs' 61,760 first-class runs or Muttiah Muralitharan's tally of 800 Test wickets, it is almost beyond belief that a cricketer will score more international hundreds than those Tendulkar finally ends up with.

Each of the great names mentioned above has done a huge amount to promote cricket, as did figures like WG Grace, Sir Vivian Richards, Imran Khan, Shane Warne and Sir Ian Botham. But nobody in the history of the sport has done more to demonstrate how the game of cricket should be played than Tendulkar. There may have been greater players but quite frankly Tendulkar is the biggest name the game has ever seen.

In the Lord's Test of 1990, I managed to get Tendulkar out, caught by Graham Gooch at second slip, and on the Nursery Ground on Monday I told him I would have happily bowled at him for an hour had I known he was practising. Tendulkar modestly said: "No, you caused me enough problems in 1990." As I walked back to my office I felt 10 feet tall.

Six of crickets modern greats – Brian Lara, Shane Warne, Ricky Ponting, Adam Gilchrist, Muralitharan and Tendulkar – have never scored a hundred or taken a five-wicket haul at the home of cricket, performances that would place them on the famous honours boards that adorn the walls of the visitors' dressing room in the Pavilion.

I hope that Tendulkar achieves that landmark at Lord's tomorrow or on Friday and that I am there to see it. I would imagine the feat would mean more to Tendulkar than almost any other and the sight of him raising his bat to acknowledge the landmark would be greeted as warmly as any at the home of cricket.

Angus Fraser is director of cricket at Middlesex and the former cricket correspondent of 'The Independent'

Top of the pile: Why Sachin is finest batsman of modern era

Of the three batsmen who have dominated Test cricket over the past 20 years, the 'Little Master' is the greatest of all. Here's why:

1. Sachin Tendulkar

Around a billion Indians are perfectly sure about his genius. His gifts are obvious and he has lavished them on both forms of the game. Any doubts about his ability to provide under the most strenuous circumstances have long been allayed and the fact that he has amended his style to ensure longevity and yet retained or even increased his effectiveness makes him the leader of the modern triumvirate.

2. Ricky Ponting

There is nothing exactly elegant about Ponting. He goes at the ball with hard hands, which occasionally have undone him at the start of innings. But no batsman was more hard-nosed and the speed of his feet and the blazing ferocity and certainty of his strokes made him a match for anybody. If he can now reinvent himself it may yet demand a re-examination.

3. Brian Lara

At his considerable peak, which lasted a considerable time, he stood alone. Not only could he hit the ball to places other batsmen did not know existed but he did so with grace and power. The speed of his bat was matched by the consummate grace with which he wielded it and for his breathtakingly imperious batting in the 1999 series against Australia his place in the pantheon is assured.

Stephen Brenkley

Most international centuries

Test/ODI/T20/Total

S Tendulkar (Ind) 51/48/0/99

R Ponting (Aus) 39/30/0/69

J Kallis (SA) 40/17/0/57

B Lara (WI) 34/19/0/53

M Jay'dene (SL) 28/15/1/44