Generations of Indians can remember the first time they heard the name Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar: in late February of 1988, when they opened their newspapers to discover that a couple of schoolboys named Kambli and Tendulkar had put together a partnership of 664 runs for their school, Shardashram, against St. Xavier’s. Vinod Kambli made 349, and his friend and team-mate made 329. Barely a couple of years later, Tendulkar was launching Abdul Qadir into the Gujranwala stands, his role as the mainstay of India’s batting begun.

But the individual marks set then — which were not, in any case, the highest in the competition’s storied history — have been eclipsed by a twelve-year old. Sarfaraz Khan, the son of a cricket coach and a student at past champions Rizvi Springfield, hammered out 439 off 421 deliveries. Bombay’s inter-school tournament has set many stories in motion in its 112-year history; it is named for England’s second-ever Test captain, Lord Harris — later a head of the MCC and governor of Bombay, where he did a lot for Indian cricket (and also where, at least according to the television series Bodyline, he set one of cricket’s greatest stories rolling by presenting the young Douglas Jardine with a bat.)

Young Khan, from a cricketing family, will have had some sense of history. He had trouble sleeping the night before the record — at stumps, he had scored 235. In a post-match interview, he extolled the virtues of footwork, watching the ball, and playing it late. Whether or not Khan’s story becomes one of those that we remember 20 years from now, one thing at least is clear: as Sachin Tendulkar’s matchless career enters its twilight years, we will look at such schoolboy feats with a certain breathless hope.