There are few joys in public life as deeply personal as watching a young talent you have known since boyhood rise to fulfil the promise you sensed in him long before the world took notice. For me, Sanju Samson is such a special joy. Long before he became a national star, long before stadiums chanted his name and television cameras lingered on his serene, unflappable presence at the crease, he was a shy, gifted 14‑year‑old club cricketer in Thiruvananthapuram whose talent was unmistakable and whose quiet determination left an impression on me that has only deepened with time.

I still remember that first meeting vividly: a slender, somewhat short teenager with a disarming smile, a bat that seemed almost an extension of his arm, and a sense of balance and timing that marked him out as special. Even then, there was something about Sanju—an inward steadiness, a refusal to be rattled, a maturity beyond his years. It was clear he had the gifts to go far; what he needed was the ecosystem of encouragement and fairness that every young athlete deserves but not all receive.

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I rather patronisingly told him that he would grow to become the next Dhoni (this was 2009, and there could be no greater compliment to a young lad), and he beamed. Years later, when I recalled that comment, I was rightly rebuked by my friend Gautam Gambhir, who said Sanju need not become the next anybody –- he would be the one and only Sanju Samson.

Over the years, I have had the privilege of watching Sanju grow—not just as a cricketer,........

© Mathrubhumi English