"She'll never love you billy-boy, and you can thank you stars for that. She is nothing but trouble in a nice dress", the wise old man in the pink trench-coat declared.

"I know", the young man said, as he made the call.

And that was just the thing, he thought as he waited for her to answer. He had always known it, from the moment he had seen her. She had been with Hurley 'The Fist' Sawyer, when he had first met her 5 years and 4 other men ago.

"Hello". That voice. So serene, so playful, with a barely concealed innocence that never failed to blow his mind.

"Its me. Did he call?".

"Not yet, but its only 9:40 yet and he said he might be a little la..."

"Yeah, how much longer are you planning to wait?"

"Oh Tony, you dont have to do this. If he doesnt show up, I'll go alone. You dont have to...". Like he would ever let her enter that shithole alone.

"How much longer?"

"10:30 but.."

"I'll call you at 10:15". She was still talking as he hung up.

"We'll wait till 10:30", he told the old man, who just looked at him with an all to knowing and far too sad smile on the corner of his tobacco-blackened old lips.

Sachin

Highest run scorer in the history of cricket. Highest no of centuries in the history of cricket. Over the past two decades, he has stood head and shoulders above everyone around him. Really, it was inevitable he would be the one to do it. This is poetic justice.

Sachin Tendulkar. The Little Master. The best that ever was, the best that ever will be. A true jewel of India, indeed the world. Take a Bow good sir. I have been blessed with the honor of growing up with your career, and it has been an absolute pleasure to watch you in your prime.

Take note mere mortals. A god walks amongst you.