Tendulkar and his school friend Vinod Kambli burst onto the scene together but then went separate ways, writes Steve James.
Sachin Tendulkar to the extreme left and Vinod Kambli to the extreme right with their childhood coach in the centre at an event in 2009.

You would, wouldn't you? The best batsmen just want to bat and bat. And schoolboys are hardly known for their obedience. These two schoolboy batsmen were going rather well. So well in fact that they had both passed their double centuries. On the boundary's edge their assistant coach was waving his arms furiously. He was demanding their attention. It was time to declare. The team total had surpassed 500 after all.

But the batsmen were having none of it. This was too much fun. They carried on batting. And batting a bit more. By lunch of what was the second day of this three-day Harris Shield semi-final in Mumbai in 1988, one had 349 not out and his friend 326 not out. But they knew they had disobeyed instructions.

Their coach, Ramakant Achrekar, a man they both respected hugely, was not present, as he had to work that day. Instead it was his assistant, Laxman Chavan, whose instructions had been disregarded. At the interval Chavan told the pair of youngsters that they should phone Achrekar. Their coach asked the score. Over 700 came the reply. "Declare!" screamed Achrekar, according to Vaibhav Purandare, an Indian author.

"Sir, I'm batting on 349," said the one young man by the name of Vinod Kambli, before the phone was passed to the other, the captain. Sachin Tendulkar was his name. You may have heard of him. "Sir, Vinod needs one run to complete his 350, we'll declare as soon as he gets out," he said. "Declare!" shouted Achrekar, and for once Tendulkar was in trouble. But he and Kambli had already put on an unbeaten 664 for the third wicket for Shardashram School against St Xavier's College, and two stars of Indian cricket had been born.

A year later Tendulkar was playing Test cricket for India. "He took the elevator to the top," said Kambli, "whilst I took the stairs". But by 1993 they were on the top floor together in the Indian Test team, with Kambli at three and Tendulkar at four in a series at home to England. In the third Test in Mumbai, Kambli made 224, still the highest Test score by an Indian against England.

In his next Test against Zimbabwe, the left-handed Kambli made 227. Tendulkar was not to score his first Test double-hundred for another six years. In his next two Tests against Sri Lanka Kambli made two centuries. But after another 10 Tests he was dropped. That was in 1995, and he was aged just 23.

Despite averaging 54.2, he never played another Test. How different were the paths then taken by those schoolboy mates. Recently Tendulkar announced his retirement amid an avalanche of paeans; last week Kambli at the age of just 41 was rushed to hospital in Mumbai having suffered a heart attack. He is said to be in a stable condition. Tendulkar was always the model professional; Kambli was always the classic larrikin, with his golden earrings, funky haircuts (although the pate is now bald) and extravagant lifestyle. Maybe Kambli was before his time because he might have fitted in nicely in the indulgent excesses of the Indian Premier League now.

But even though he was still playing international one-day cricket in 2000, and indeed Indian first-class cricket until 2004, it was his lax attitude, not a susceptibility to the short ball, that scuppered his career. So it is little surprise really that his friendship with Tendulkar did not remain strong. "I haven't heard Sachin's sound for a long time and it hurts me," said Kambli recently. "It's been seven long years and we haven't met with each other. In between we just shared a few text messages and that's all. It seems as if we have become enemies now."