The Quintessential Outsider

Finally, the 2006 Asian Games draw to a close. It has been a reasonably successful outing for the Indian contingent, with the medals haul being the best ever at any Asiad apart from the 1951 & 1982 editions that were held in India. It could have been better though; my friend Vishwakant had said about two weeks ago that we can expect to get “at least 15 golds” this time. So why did we finish with just ten, and why does a majority of TOI readers still feel that ‘sports in India has reached its nadir’ (according to a poll on 12th Dec., 2006)?

Before trying to look for answers, and ending up criticizing everyone related to Indian sports, let’s look at the brighter side, The Good.

India won 54 medals this time, second only to the 57-medal haul from Delhi 1982, and it was also one of the few occasions when the gold-medal count reached double figures. And contrary to popular belief (about the nadir etc.), India’s performance has been improving consistently since Beijing 1990, where we finished with only 23 medals, just one of them gold (in kabaddi). I distinctly remember my parents saying then that like hockey, kabaddi will also cease to give us gold medals once other nations learn to play it (which would happen in about 10-15 years).

It has been 16 years since, and not only has India won its fifth consecutive gold in kabaddi this time, but it has also, in the meanwhile, produced new sporting heroes like Jaspal Rana, Leander Paes and Vishwanathan Anand (whose successes have inspired an entire generation of shooters, tennis and chess players respectively, the three sports that accounted for seven of the ten golds this time). Two of these heroes were there at Doha, and were at the top of the podium on half of the occasions when India’s national anthem was played out.

Besides these Indian strongholds, there were a few other feel-good occasions like Pankaj Advani and Ashok Shandilya battling for gold and silver in the billiards singles, and the chess team assuring themselves of gold even before the last round had been played. There were a few unexpected medals too, in obscure places like the equestrian and rowing events, which made up for quite a few unexpected losses, The Bad.

One of these was in the semifinals of the billiards doubles, where Geet Sethi and Ashok Shandilya went down to an unknown pair from Myanmar, and had to be content with the bronze. The performance of the snooker players, too, was below par. In shooting, a little more was expected from Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore and Anjali Bhagwat. In women’s hockey, some consolation came in the form of a bronze, after the losses to Japan and China. The boxers and wrestlers too turned in a substandard performance. And no one even noticed what happened in weightlifting, or volleyball, or swimming. While these sports might not have contributed medals in the past anyway, a lot was expected from athletics, in which India had won seven golds in Busan in 2002. This time, we had to be content with just one, in the women’s 4X400 relay, an event in which India has done well since the days of PT Usha.

I have deliberately postponed discussion on men’s hockey to the third paragraph, The Ugly. A few days before the Asian Games, we heard that Viren Rasquinha, along with some other well-known players, has been dropped from the squad, and some obscure players included instead. On being asked about this, Mr. KPS Gill retorted that he will only discuss Indian hockey. Perhaps Viren’s name sounded too foreign to him, and he believed that only those who have the surname Singh can be a part of ‘Indian hockey’. On being told that Viren is from Mumbai, which is very much in India, Mr. Gill retorted again, ‘Did you watch the match between India and China’?

Well, I must really compliment the ex-Supercop for his art of deflecting questions. Meanwhile, we were expected to go through the torture of watching India lose to a team coached by someone who learnt hockey in India itself, about a decade or two ago, and ‘know more about hockey’ before we could dare to ask questions on it. So now, should we master the art of fast bowling before we question Irfan Pathan’s lean patch, or the straight drive and the square-cut before we point a finger at Sachin Tendulkar? Doesn’t the very fact that Mr. Gill, in his capacity at the helm of the hockey federation, is a representative of a ‘democratic’ Indian establishment, render him answerable to the people of India, irrespective of their knowledge of the game?

I believe the problem is not just with one person or one organization, it is with the whole ideology of ‘controlling’ sports through ‘boards’ and ‘federations’ made up of former bureaucrats and others trained in the art of ‘controlling’, instead of ‘managing’ and ‘promoting’ them through an association of former players and professional managers. The IHF or the BCCI are not the only ones; even Jaspal Rana came out in the open with criticism of the ‘authorities’ once he had resurrected his position as the poster-boy of Indian shooting. And if we look at the life of almost any Indian sportsperson, we will find an example of some cruel joke being played with a career or an ambition, and the talent being wasted.

Such organizations for overseeing sports can, if they do their job with honesty and passion, either take a country to the dizzying heights of sporting excellence, as happened with the Eastern Bloc countries during the Cold War and after that with China, or they can completely smother even the existing talent, if they become dens of corruption like they have in India. A better option, in post-liberalization India, would be to let go of these ‘controls’. In any case, most of the Asian Games medalists this time have achieved their success on their own, and in spite of these federations, or in some cases due to being employed in establishments like the Army.

Indian sports has not reached its nadir now, but it already did so about two decades back, in the late 80’s and early 90’s, and subsequently embarked on an upward path parallel to that of the post-liberalization economic growth. This ascent can be further accelerated if the vestiges of bureaucratic control are removed.

Meanwhile, India’s most popular sport continues with its ups and downs, oblivious of the world around it, and is presently in a trough similar to the one it found itself in against New Zealand in early 2003, months before the last World Cup in South Africa.

And mind you, India’s national sport is not following any of these trends, for it has only been on a downward slide since 1964, and has not yet touched its nadir. That will probably be achieved only when India reaches the heights (depths?) it has achieved in the ‘beautiful game’, unless Mr. Gill and Co. decide to quit, or someone else throws them out.

Meanwhile, the drama between the two giants of Indian tennis continues to be played out under full media glare. One has brought success in partnership with everyone from Ramesh Krishnan to Sania Mirza, and the other initiated India’s success in the Grand Slams with the French Open mixed doubles crown in 1997, and both have a right to their respective egos. I just hope there was a bit more compatibility, though.

Anyway, at least they are leaving behind a sparkling trail of success for others to follow. Now, if only our occasional Olympic silver or bronze could be turned into gold…