Feb 7, 2007

Football Shootball Hai Rabba

This was the earliest that I had reached home in quite a while. 5:15 PM to be exact. The Cauvery water tribunal's final order was far below Karnataka's expectation and there were rumors of build-up or possible violence. Most organizations of the old and new economies closed pretty early, so that employees could reach home before dark. With Rajakumar riots in the background nobody could afford risks. In the Sadashivnagar area, establishments become resourceful and tied huge fishing nets over the glass facade. At the frequency b'lore is getting volatile and profusion of glass in offices the fishing net manufactures could find a good market here. The case of a product finding a totally orthogonal market.

My best plan for the evening was to catch up on Gunter Grass, finish some pending work and end it with somarasam and a movie. As I turned into the apartment compound the usual pack of boys were on their way to a game of football. There is vast expanse of land, possibly owned by a land shark, right next to the gated community that the children have converted into a football ground. Lest you have any illusions, the goal posts are 2 stones kept a few feet away and an implicit horizontal bar in thin year air based on how much the goalkeeper can jump was the upper limit. But compared to the Deshabhimani road by lane where we kicked of our dream of being Pele and Paulo Rossi this ground was very generous. I used to see the crowd at the game on weekends, but could never join them since weekends are tightly packed. At home, changing into a shorts and T-shirt I was a little edgy as to how the kids would receive me. Would the Reebok football that I recently bid and won for Paru while traveling Air Deccan entice them. However the Reebok football had diminished into a half-moon and there was no way I could impress them with that.

I put on my sneakers and walked quickly to the field. Wearing the intense look of a talent scout on a mission to recruit for the national team I parked outside the field. Didn’t have to wait much long before a call came in to play. Before I could get a hold of my teammates the ball was passed to me. Shouted out and found Vivek who called me in and passed it to him. He passed it back to me in the midfield. Couple of dribbles later I was in the penalty area and kicked it to the young boy who was calling "Uncle Uncle" he was deft with the ball and just connected it. Goal... 30 seconds into the game I had proved. I put on the nonchalant demeanor and congratulated Adhil ( the young boy) and Vivek. That detachment to success and a failure is a relic from the hockey days with Shenoy Sir – our favorite coach. There was strict diktat against expressionism of any form after striking. After all we just doing our karma. Can’t remember a better practitioner of the Gita than him. We would have looked from another planet in these days of somersaults, knee skating, and practiced seagull runs. I had made a mark as a play-maker and the opposing team started to sneer as if Zidane himself had been come in. Score 1-1

Now it was time to know the team. There were no formal introductions. There was Perry the tall slip chap who would have done better in basketball court. Sanjana reminded me of Jess from Gurindher Chada's cult movie Bend It Like Beckham about a traditional Sikh girl in London aspiring to be a professional footballer. Sanjana's smart little sister whose name I forget would tow her sister whenever she went near the ball. Vivek and Adhil were the other two. I realized early on in the game that the way to the kids hearts were to pass the ball as soon as I get it. More so because they were shouting "uncle uncle" every time the ball landed on my foot. Should say it fitted well with my overall grounding in team sports, at times perilously collaborative.

Breezing across the ground we made some excellent moves and passes, which were lauded. Nevertheless couldn’t convert any. Even relinquished the ball once to an unsuspecting Adhil when it was an easy goal for me, just that I don't appear selfish and be on right side of my teammates. But the end was near. I was fizzling out. We were playing without positions unlike the hockey and football I was used to and everybody was running everywhere. Ten minutes into the game panting like a mad dog I moved into the sidelines. The kids with their agile metabolism could take it. But my hulk that hasn’t set foot on a playground since college except for random bouts in the apartment Gym had given up. Years of desk job had taken its toll. If not for the last bit of pride, I would have left the ground.

It was time to hibernate, which meant - waiting for the ball to come to me, passing it as soon as it comes if not to my team atleast to the opponent, cheering the gang with amplified “well played”s even when they struck bad or good etc. Just anything that would let me stand and play the game. Alas this is football and it doesn’t remain frozen like the computer. The opposition struck 5 times in succession. Should say they had an excellent striker in Srikanth who could make into a club team if he pursued Football. Score 6-1

Suffice to say the initial aura had vaporized. They could see through me. Statements about being out of touch to anybody who would listen went unregistered. It came to point when my teammates were ready to trade me for Kaushik - the cool dude who landed up in bike near the playground. Me who captained the school hockey team, me who missed the Calicut university hockey team because my college never had a history of participating in the inter-university matches, me who with Mathai ruled the Deshabhimani bylane football for as long as it has been there. How could they ? I turned dumb and looked the other side as they were riveted in transfer negotiations. Luckily the opposing band didn't have any better appraisal than mine. “At best he could be stone pillar struck diagonally across the goalpost” someone remarked. They let Kaushik play in our team, without trading me. Thank God.

The strategy required a revamp and I fount one in the goalpost. Perry was supposed to be our goalkeeper. Being a Higuta himself, the opposing team's goalpost was where he colonized mostly. He would hire Sanjana's sister on temporary assignments to guard the post while he went on his expeditions far and wide. I smelled the opportunity and immediately opted to be the goalkeeper to Kaushik who had taken in the reins of the team by then. Kaushik showed sparks of brilliance along with Vivek and Adhil make some brilliant maneuvers.

The goalpost was also not cent percent stand zone. On one such occasion while I had gone little forward to kick, the ball came behind me . Srikant just hade to glide it slowly into the post while I watched sheepishly. I shouted excellent to register my infallibility. By then Kaushik developed a sudden sprain or he probably had the same problem as me and took over the goalpost. Back into the trenches after fifteen minutes of bliss. Score 6-1

It was time to play positions. If not the junta, a sensible game with little running, weighing my bodies compulsions was the need of the hour. The right flank was less occupied and I camped there, though the left extreme was were I aced in Hockey. I could take time to look around and get a sense of my buddies before I kick, since the competing boys were reluctant to tackle me due to the larger frame. Size and aggression always helps in amateur game. When I saw the ball flying slowly I almost tried a scissor cut. Some excellent teamwork later we scored the second goal. I scored the third for my team. This time I decided to be less of a socialist and kicked the ball to the post when there wasn’t a soul between the keeper and me. Srikant an co. struck again. But we had found our rhythm. The match ended at 6:30 when it was time for Sanjana and her sister to get back home. Score 8-3

On my way back I made small talk with the group. They were and interesting bunch. Most were between the 5th and 10th standard and went to Delhi Public school or Baldwins. However F*** as an adjective with every phrase was revolting even to my liberal self. At home in the shower, I was reminded of community baths at Rajagiri, conversations with a girlfriend coming back from the library as dusk set into Rajpath, hoping for a good piece of Chicken along with ghee rice at the hostel mess. All after a tiring game. It took only a good game and a little more to be happy those days

How much have we changed, how little is our life changed – Premchand

5 comments:

ReadnRyte said...

Buddy...reminded me of ulpalakshan and monsoon cup. Always knew that somewhere deep inside you there was a maradona or at the very least a vijayan, waiting to emerge, but I gez better sense prevailed :)

Sachin R K said...

Brilliant :)))

So we are treading into uncharted waters here. But this sample has convinced me that humour is definitely your forte.

Never knew you were a college hockey player. And really today's kids - should have treated a veteran footballer with more respect. But if it is any consolation, they would probably have called Maradona that f***ing drug addict :P

Belt Mathai said...

Well guys, you gotta remember the chap has got a bit of pedigree in this. If I remember the childhood stories right, his grandad(mom's dad)who was a coach himself, spotted his future son-in-law on the football field! I can't forget Italia 90, when we sat up thru the night sipping black coffee for every match, led by his dad, who would almost fall off his chair instructing the players despairing why those silly Brazilians wouldn't shoot when they reached the Italian goal post. Good times.
Oolae... Ole Ole Ole!
We are the Champs!We are the Champs!
Name 'o' the game - Football!!!!

redwaterstew said...

@ readnryte:> yes ulpalakshan and monsoon cup was very much in the air. ulpalakshan was the sports club of our batch formed for the monsoon cup and other college tournaments. Our hit anthem went like this

Mathavea marathaka maniyea
papikalam njngalea katthu kollanmea
esthapanosin nadanakala samithi
kumbalangi....kumbalangi ....kumbalangi

transalated as:
Hail mary full of grace
forgive these sinners
the arts club of St Thomas
kumbalangi (3)

Kumbalangi’s (a small town by the backwaters) inhabitants are famous as the sardarji types of cochin
The song is ripped from a Chavikku Nadakam a form of tap-dance drama depicting Biblical themes. Part of the Portuguese legacy in kerala

@sachin:> the humor was unintended:-) seriously it is difficult ballgame.

and for the kids, we live in different generation. I wouldn’t blame them. always happens as one grows old

@belt mathai:> Did want to conclude the story with that footnote. but then decided against it. thought I should save that one for the future.

just to add grandad from mom's side was a trained football referee. Legend has it that he met my dad at Sait Nagjee football tournament while Dad was on his first posting at calicut. There used to some accomplished footballers in the family including an uncle who played the university and even a sensational football love marriage too. Football used to be really hip in Kerala before cricket took over

and yeah have never enjoyed watching football as much as Italia 90.

Anonymous said...

Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now keep it up!