The Indian population is obligated to admire the Brits, although they must do so somewhat grudgingly and disdainfully. Irrespective of where they stand on the political spectrum as individuals, the Indians must not question the fact that the blokes from Old Blighty were either too evolved and refined, or simply too self-centred and arrogant, to be preoccupied with the mundane aspects of existence.
For ordinary Indians living in an era of hyperbolic moral and political self-righteousness where any concessions to their former colonisers can be deemed traitorous and susceptible to multiple FIRs by touchy nationalists, who could well be an uncle or first cousin, they should express their appreciation in such a way that the haughty Brits would feel a sense of remorse for subjugating them for two centuries. Maybe they could even shame Britain into sending India monthly “sporting reparations” of up to five million dollars for 200 years — after all, the amount barely amounts to what a Messi or Ronaldo makes in a week!
But laud them, they must. After all, it was the Brits, and not the Indians, who enthusiastically set about to explore uncharted territories and develop novel forms of physical activity to transform and restructure what was, until then, a boring and listless planet.
A host of sports, including hockey, badminton, rugby, golf, football, cricket, tennis, squash and boxing, have their origins in the British Isles. Cricket and football, in particular, have even supplanted religion in some parts of the world where superstars are revered as deities and earn hundreds of thousands of dollars per week.
But while India embraced cricket with blazing zeal by adding to its inexhaustible secrets and contributing to its development and extension to new horizons, the same cannot be said of football. Instead, the “Beautiful Game” found its soul in the non-English-speaking world, in the impoverished South American favelas and barrios, from where legends such as Pele, Garrincha, Maradona and Messi emerged. In Europe, it discovered efficacy, order and prosperity. Unsurprisingly, teams from only these two continents have won the FIFA World Cup, some multiple times. England, the game’s birthplace, grabbed the title just once, in 1966.
When it comes to India, though, this is a curious case, rich in its contradictions and paradoxes, much like everything else in the country. While many Indians claim to love football, the game does not reciprocate their affections, or at least with the same intensity. In the heartlands of the global game, three generations of a family would debate and critique even a local club match for hours at the dinner table. In India, politics, religion, and, of course, Cricket would invariably dominate the discourse.
Except for the states of Goa, Kerala, West Bengal and parts of the northeast, football is a relatively minor component of the cultural tapestry in India.
Examining the causes of football’s second-class status is a straightforward task; the fundamental reasons for the majority of India’s ills are cronyism, egregious administration, widespread corruption, and shady politics. However, instead of adopting a despondent attitude, it would be worthwhile if football fans could maintain some positivity and cheer, as looking back cannot be an option.
The indicators are also favourable. To begin with, the All India Football Federation (AIFF), which for decades was mostly run like a tin-pot empire, is gradually acclimating itself to the established international paradigm in sports by exhibiting a modicum of professionalism, introducing time-bound goals, and, most importantly, a substantial injection of capital.
New professional leagues have also been introduced and academies have been set up in various parts of the nation. Leading corporate houses have jumped onto the bandwagon by investing substantial resources in the game. European and South American tournaments are watched keenly on television, with youngsters rooting for their favourite clubs and players.
Even in smaller Indian cities, supporters of top European clubs like Arsenal, Manchester United and Liverpool have formed fan clubs. They get together on special occasions, celebrate their teams’ successes and vent their frustrations when things don’t go according to plan.
This overwhelming love for foreign clubs and players though has a flip side — it doesn’t help the domestic game. With fans glued to the Premier League and La Liga matches on television, domestic talent doesn’t get the traction it needs for growth. How much longer will it take for India to qualify for the FIFA World Cup, or for an Indian to become a household name on the global level while wearing the jerseys of Manchester United, Barcelona or AC Milan? These are questions that trouble many.
For all you know, it could all happen in the next 10 years. But it’s also possible that this will NOT happen within the next fifty years. In the end, do the Indians want their future generations of football enthusiasts and journalists to derive their adrenaline rushes from minor conquests, face-saving draws, and meaningless “moral” victories?
That’s enormous an and genuine concern.
• (Anil John is a former Gulf Times Sports Editor)
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