The irony made even Cedric D'Souza break into a rueful smile. Embarrassed at the
recent World Cup, Indian hockey players, who had demanded and got D'Souza's head after the
Atlanta Olympics, were now asking for his reinstatement as national coach. If India were
outmuscled at the World Cup, the tactical humiliation was starker. Foreign coaches laughed
at India's prehistoric style, asking why D'Souza, India's most proficient, modern hockey
tactician, wasn't in charge. Because when D'Souza advocated theories like running into
space and not carrying the ball, it was considered heresy. Sneered former Olympians:
"Arre, a goalkeeper who never played an Olympics can't coach." Here's the punchline. An FIH (hockey's governing body) Commission last
month, in search of new coaches for their development programme, apparently felt Indian
coaches had more playing than coaching experience. Only D'Souza, it seems, was considered
to be well versed enough in the science modern hockey.
An inability to pick the right man for the job, an ignorance
of how sport has evolved tactically, are just some of the other absent pieces of the
sporting jigsaw that puzzles India. Even in cricket, panic in defeat results in hasty
execution of coaches. Anshuman Gaekwad is intelligent and organised, has just begun
moulding a team, but he coaches with his head on the guillotine. Ask Sandeep Patil, Madan
Lal.
Money, in a poor land, also continues to retard progress.
Tennis players, for instance, need three to four rackets worth Rs 7,000-Rs 9,000 each, a
dozen balls a week which is Rs 800, plus shell out for court bookings. Eventually they
need coaches like Bob Carmichael, who trains Leander for about $100,000 a year. Sponsors,
understandably, look more to cricket. Other sports suffer. Simi Mehra, India's first woman
to qualify for golf's US Open (one of the four major tournaments), has no sponsor. Hockey
players, barring Dhanraj Pillai and the odd other, are not considered worthy by major
brands. So, unlike the university system that supports and breeds athletes in the US, here
athletes put employment as their first priority.
The Indian athlete also is not accorded the dignity he
deserves. To watch an Indian Olympian bend down to touch an official's feet, fearful of
disfavour, is horrifying. Unless a nation accords respect to its athletes, parents will
never view it as a respectable career alternative.
Facilities remain a contentious issue. School sport, the
base, is defunct. Modern stadiums are fashioned, but then fall into gradual disrepair.
Young Indian hockey players still grow up on grass where the body is held erect, the stick
vertical. To adapt to astro-turf where the body is crouched and the stick held horizontal
is not easy. Even so, facilities are not an impossible impediment to hurdle. Kenyan
cross-country runners -- the world's best by far -- used to live in a school on bunk beds,
eat maize porridge daily and bathe with water from a tap in the garden.
Education is vital too, for many Indian athletes, emerging
from small towns and villages, cannot grasp the tactics and developments of modern sport.
Athletes too are not hungry enough. Boxers win medals then leave camp for long holidays.
Rarely will a hockey player stay on an extra half hour after regular training to refine a
particular skill. Hard working Michael Jordan once hit a teammate, irritated by his lack
of effort. Sachin Tendulkar, genius maybe, still trained at the nets for Shane Warne. It
is this rage for perfection, that eventually is the essence of champions. And neither
money, nor facilities, nor coaches, are required for that.
--Rohit Brijnath |