It was another mid-week night where my carnal pleasures of the footballing kind were being satiated, although it was a not a joyride by any means. FC Barcelona hosted the new kids on the block, PSG and quite a lot of pundits, including me, assumed that the former would run away with the tie with tremendous ease considering that they were carrying with them the luxury of 2 away goals from the first leg. In fact, even the think-tank at FCB were mulling of sidelining the irreplaceable genius in Messi for the reverse leg. Such was the confidence of fans, analysts and the FCB training staff, especially after Barcelona’s epic comeback against Milan last month. However, any sensible aficionado of the sport would know that upsets and miracles have become misnomers as they transpire once too often in this pre-eminent competition. Just on the eve of this tie, we all witnessed a nerve-wracking encounter between Malaga and Borussia Dortmund, which had more twists and turns than a mountain railroad. Bottom-line is that, once we enter this business end of the competition, all teams will have to remember that smugness and overconfidence will take them far, all the way to their graveyards.

When Messi was substituted in the game against PSG, I, just like most avid followers of this great man, started tracking his recuperation and was elated to see him in the squad on the day of the match. Though I was supremely confident that FCB would pip their rivals to the post, there was always more than a shred of doubt in my mind about the scoreline and the fashion in which Barcelona would qualify for the next round. In the game against Mallorca during the weekend, the Catalans simply overpowered their opponents and with a first ever hat-trick from Cesc and a brace from the struggling Alexis, things were looking quite rosy for the club and I even believed that Messi would not be missed after all.

It was match-day and though I was disheartened at the sight of Messi sitting in the dugout, I still was uber-excited, ready to witness a galaxy of starts and footballing talent perform at the pinnacle of their powers. The game began in the most expected fashion, with Barcelona possessing and passing the ball with delightful ease, with even some early chances being squandered. PSG, unlike Milan, showed a lot of courage and counter-attacked with pace and purpose. Often, people get quite critical about Valdes and his gaffes, but the savior for Barcelona in the first half was undoubtedly the one wearing the gloves and guarding the goal post. The first half ended goalless, but PSG looked more convincing while FCB evidently missed their talisman on the pitch. It was almost as if that the Blaugrana had forgotten how to create those passes and plays that oozed poetic pulchritude. Messi was subject to some emotional stress as he could barely withhold his desire to come on to the pitch. Analysts and commentators started questioning the strengths and powers of this much vaunted footballing unit in the absence of Leo Messi.

Inevitable as it seemed, PSG opened their account with a delightful play between Pastore and Zlatan, and the Argentine finally raced past two defenders to slot the goal home. It barely took Tito a few seconds before he signaled Messi to get ready for an all- important substitution. The 96000 people in the Camp Nou began cheering as La Pulga warmed up on the sidelines. All of a sudden, the fear of elimination was overcome by this dose of belief and hope, and the decibel levels witnessed an enhancement. The school-boyish display of Fabregas was already forgotten by the crowd once he was replaced by the little genius. A few bursts of pace, a nutmeg, and he was off to a bright start already, and even the impossible started to look achievable. One could even see how the whole quality of passing and movement got uplifted, and in the 70th minute, Messi beat two defenders and made a deft pass with the outside of the left foot to Villa. The whole genius of the man became communicable like one ball-borne  disease and  Villa and Pedro combined to complete a stunning goal. Up until this moment, I could not even recollect a decent shot on goal, but it all changed with the introduction of the revered genius.

The moment the final whistle blew, arm-chair analysts started berating this great club and brought them down to earth with their caustic choice of words. Though I admit that Barcelona’s performance was quite pedestrian without Messi, I have always maintained that FCB pretty much plays this way, and in fact, one can even draw a resounding similarity between their style of play and that of the Spanish national team. Let us not take away any credit from the most successful footballing nation yet, but if one pays heed to the scorelines of all of Spain’s victories in Euro 2008, FIFA WC 2010 and Euro 2012, one can observe that barring a few victories against Russia in 2008 and Ireland in 2012, Spain has never beaten their opponents by huge margins. One victory that completely took me by surprise was the 4-0 hammering of Italy in Euro 2012 finals. La Roja won the Euro 2008 by defeating Germany 1-0. In the 2010 WC, they lost to Switzerland, but after that debacle, all their wins were by 1 goal margins. They defeated Portugal 1-0 in the 2nd round, then went on to beat Paraguay 1-0 to set up a semifinal clash with Germany. This round saw them defeating the Germans 1-0 again and they finally lifted the cup by beating Holland 1-0. This team has always believed more in possession and passing and they have enough patience and persistence to win matches, even if it be by just a solitary goal.

The Barcelona side is practically the same as Spain. The midfield and front-line of Barca is the same as Spain, but with the extra firepower of Leo Messi. This is precisely why Barcelona score tons of goals and win matches by ridiculous margins like 5-0, thanks to Leo whose goal tallies have beeen steadily rising from 34 to 47 to 53 to 73, over the last few years. Another noteworthy difference is that Barcelona fails to keep clean sheets like Spain, and this is because they lack the support of Casillas, Ramos, Alonso and Arbeloa. I guess what I am trying to drive at is that this Barcelona team is strong and a well-oiled machine just like Spain. They are going to dominate football for years to come, but when one man is taken off the pitch, they do look like lesser mortals. The most amazing aspect of Leo’s influence on the game today is simply beyond goals and assists. He possesses a soothing effect on his team-mates and a seething influence on his rivals, and even greats like Iniesta and Xavi, in spite of all their god-given talent, become bigger believers in magic and triumph when Leo is around.

Have you ever picked up a bicycle and struggled to drive it at the first instance? Every child growing up would have had the father push us from behind as we fall and get up continually, until one day when we start riding that machine like omnipotent gods. We always had it in us, but what made us believe that we could balance this bicycle was the trust that our fathers were holding on to the backseat, preventing us from ever falling. Little did we know that he had already taken his hand away from the bike. Leo Messi  has the same indelible effect on this Barcelona team – invisible hands pushing the bicycle!

Buy and Hold:

Thierry Henry proved to be a great asset on the off the pitch for Wenger

The mindset of an investor works in mysterious ways much like God himself, except that the former’s activities seldom end in any goodness, holistically speaking. Investors always keep looking for opportunities to make a quick buck and this is what mostly leads to their fall. A great economist called Keynes once said that in the long term we all die, meaning that only the short term and medium perspectives matter. I respectfully disagree and believe that our decisions should always be made keeping in mind the bigger picture. Arsene Wenger is a genius in this aspect and he always gets hold of great players who are young and unaccomplished – just like buying a cheap stock. The secret to making the best returns is to hold on to the stock without looking to pocket some short-sighted gains. This is how Wenger works as none of his great finds have ever been sold prematurely. A Thierry Henry or an RVP have always paid enough dividends to the wise man and his followers before leaving the club. Wenger has always shown virtues like patience and belief in his players and this has borne great fruits. I am confident that the Cazorlas and Girouds will deliver the goods in due time. We just have to be patient.

Valuation is key:

Estimating the potential of a stock can be mathematically achieved through various models; however, a manager has to identify a raw talent based purely on his judgement. In this wide world of footballing coaches and scouts, not many can lay claim to such success and excellence in this field. The world knows Henry today because of the stupendous scouting skills of Wenger and there are many more on this conveyor belt, some of them shining bright while others yet to see the light of day. This is not to say that there have been no errors, but they have been few and far between. If I could be so bold, I would call Arsene the “Warren Buffet” of coaching. Wenger understands this business better than most, and knows what it takes to get the best out of his investments. Fans, let us repose trust in Arsene and his young guns as they will soon shower us with goals galore.

Risk-adjusted Return:

The perennial debate in financial markets is whether equity or bonds are the better asset class. This debate will probably continue long after the chicken-egg conundrum is solved and this is because they are like chalk and cheese. Equity markets deliver great returns but are quite risky and this is where a bond comes in handy as it protects your wealth. Arsene Wenger can be compared to a bond investment with solid, stable returns. Look at all the top 4 finishes in the Premier League Table and the qualification to the UEFA Champions League year after year. Having said that, it has been close to a decade since the Gunners won any silverware, with all the big-spending clubs amassing trophies around them. The concept to understand is ‘risk-adjusted return’; if we go by this, Wenger’s team has been quite fabulous considering there is a lot of sanity in terms of what they spend. Dear Arsene, couldn’t you just loosen those purse strings a little? We are definitely in need of world-beaters and they don’t come cheap.

Eggs in multiple baskets:

Jack Wilshere and Santi Cazorla – a perfect balance of local and international talent

The investing term for this phrase is ‘diversification’ and it clearly plays a pivotal role in reducing a portfolio’s risk, and Wenger is definitely sticking to this axiom. Arsenal has a great bunch of  home-grown players, but at the same time, the club also has some phenomenal talent from all over the world. This is crucial in keeping and provoking the interest of the fans and spectators when English players take to the field, and this also avoids scenarios like the ‘Fabregas episode’ owing to the home-sickness of foreign players. The congregation of youth and experience is looking more promising this year than ever before. I am supremely confident that these wise strategies will pay off, and it is only a matter of time before Arsenal start delivering the results they are capable of.

The externalities:

Some risks are quite difficult to cover and be prepared for. This is what Investments 101 teaches you and it certainly has caught the attention of the Gunners’ fans. In spite of all of Wenger’s strategies and tactics, the team has ended up on the losing side once too often. This is clearly due to some dangers which the club never saw coming. The departure of its stellar players like Cesc, RVP, Nasri, Glichy, Song and many more has dented the strength of the team beyond immediate repair. But the way Arsene has steadied the vessel with such ease and efficiency would put even the captain of the Titanic to shame. Let us just hope and pray that this current crop of players stand by their coach. Right now, more than “one for all”, we have to adopt an “all for one” (Arsene being “the one”) philosophy and march forward to lay our hands on that coveted silverware soon.

In Arsene, we trust!

Pride and Attitude – Limbs of competitive sports

Quite often, I have come across reports in segments of the media lambasting this passionate star for exhibiting a heightened sense of haughtiness on the pitch. I sincerely believe that this emanates from a fine-tuned apparatus of self-belief and confidence in his towering capabilities. “Pride comes before the fall” is what the Holy Bible might preach, but  that is not what we are all taught from our childhood. Especially, if you want to pursue a career in sports, only fierce pride and unrelenting passion can push you towards your goal. Every single athlete has this passion and self-pride, but where they all differ is simply the portrayal. We all have witnessed Messi  go past defenders and score goals when his side is in trouble. This is just a reaction to the sense of injured pride within him and it doesn’t make him any less proud than CR7 just because the latter verbalizes. The sport would just crumble into pieces if these athletes started shedding away their pride and attitude.

Trash talking: No shame in that

The most atrocious whining is when I listen to fans talking about how CR7 dismisses his opponents by uttering demeaning words to them. Seriously, why don’t you join the cheer-leading squad for the Dallas Cowboys if you cannot digest a few expletives thrown at you? Even at the most amateurish levels of sports in schools and colleges, players indulge in trash-talking and this is an integral part of the game aimed at only unsettling the opponent rather than denigrate his family or pedigree.  Ronaldo once attacked a defender verbally by asking him how much money he made and I am sure there are many such incidents. But the media should stop criminalizing him for these statements which are innocuous in intent. The Australians cricketers have been masters in the art of sledging for decades and yet we don’t seem to belittle the greatness of a Glenn McGrath. The other day, I was watching a show where some NBA greats like Charles Barkley were discussing how the game has changed over the years and they all agreed that Micheal Jordan was unassailable when it came to trash-talking. Yet, I have never seen any American journalist focusing on this aspect of his game, because they were only keen on all his dunks, cross-overs and jumpers and rightly so.

No Armstrong, but strong alright!

The world of sports is one which punishes the weak and is probably the most suitable example of the famous phrase “survival of the fittest”. However, the modern day athletes have taken this a little too seriously and become slaves to performance-enhancing drugs. Athletics, Baseball and Cycling have all been rocked by the controversies surrounding doping but the latest episode which shook the belief of all mankind was when Lance Armstrong confessed to drug abuse. Even more shameful was that he had been lying about it as well as cajoling his teammates to do the same for many years now. These are the athletes who should be ridiculed and stripped of any glory whatsoever. CR7, just like many footballers, is giving everything he has got to offer for the sake of their clubs and countries without engaging in methods that cheat the system and make fans look like bleeding imbeciles. So, let us just protect such entertainers who sweat and shed blood on the field worthy of every penny they earn rather than concentrate on their minuscule shortcomings like a nagging ball-busting hag.

A changed man for sure

There is something quite remarkable about Ronaldo which many people fail to accredit. When he was a winger who dazzled at Man Utd, he used to be great at dribbling but he took this confidence too far and used to end up showing fragments of selfishness. However, over the last few years at Madrid, the player has added a weapon to his arsenal and this makes him ever so dangerous. His vision, off-the-ball movements, and especially assists, are taking him closer to super-stardom. Nobody, including the ‘special one’, is in a position to question the commitment of this Portuguese genius, as he plays every single game of the season giving more than a 100 percent week-in, week-out. He displays a great sense of togetherness with his teammates and has on so many occasions verbally and physically motivated the spirits of his colleagues during the state of play. Incidents like he staying away himself but asking Modric to carry the Spanish Super cup trophy on the latter’s debut, and handing over the captain’s armband to Iker Casillas, when he replaced Adan recently during the middle of the game, are all examples showing the greatness of this individual. It is ludicrous that the media fails to recognize these moments and blindly wields a weapon at the superstar.

It is now time to reveal that I am in fact a supporter of FC Barcelona and a die-hard fan of Lionel Messi. As a player, he stands out and has proven that he is just more gifted than CR7. And it is also true that Messi is humble and does so many other awesome things like staying on his feet and refusing to dive, always pointing to his team-mates first for their assists, etc. Recently, there have been alleged reports pointing to some misbehavior from Messi too. Nevertheless, I want to drive home this point that these sports icons are idolized for their mind-boggling plays. Unless we plan to get our daughters or sisters married to either one of them, their personal lives and emotional outbursts are none of our business. Let us treasure both Messi and Ronaldo and many other great footballers for they come into our living rooms every weekend and make our lives a whole lot better.

Long live the beautiful game.

BARCELONA, SPAIN – NOVEMBER 19: David Villa of FC Barcelona (2ndR) celebrates with his teammates (L-R) Lionel Messi, Seydou Keita, Maxwell Scherrer and Dani Alves of FC Barcelona after scoring his fourth team

Ever since I started following club football, I have always been drawn towards La Liga for its sheer quality. The games were always played late into the night owing to the soaring temperatures in Spain, and this always created problems aplenty for the broadcaster as viewership in India never quite caught up to the level of the Premier League. Hence we witnessed a see-sawing of television coverage between channels like STAR sports and TEN Network. I was one of those fans who was quite suspect about the abilities of the latter but after two years of La Liga action, and the enthralling debates and analysis of the C2K show, I really miss their company. The new season began on ESPN STAR yesterday and it felt like La Liga was the neglected child of the house, and I hope and pray that the broadcasters come up with some forum for previews, halftime analysis and reviews of the games very soon.

Now that I got the bad news off my chest, let me move on to the pitch where the frenzy is like a Rajini Kanth  movie releasing in Chennai. It was truly a blistering start to the league especially for Barca fans after what happened both at Camp Nou and Bernabeau last night. Barcelona began their season playing at home under the new coach Vilanova and within minutes all those fears about their style of play getting tweaked, were out of the window. In their new kit, the runners-up of last season were looking quite sharp and within a matter of minutes the domination began. News from the other end of Spain that their arch rivals lost two points on their opening night would have also done its bit to boost the spirits of the Blaugrana.

As the game progressed, FCB began to show their preeminence in passing and ball control and won a corner in the fourth minute. And would you believe if anyone had told you that Carlos Puyol would score Barca’s first goal of the season? The seasoned campaigner despite all his injury troubles and missing Euro 2012, rose to the occasion, literally, and headed the ball into the back of the net and their title challenge was well underway. However their opponents had other ideas and Chory Castro equalised on the 9th minute through a quick counter attack. I was beginning to feel the pressure and pondered that this season too, FCB might just squander away all the opportunities like last season. But when things start looking messy, one can always look up to Messi, and there he was just two minutes later battling his way through a crowded penalty area and curling the ball to the top left corner to put the former champions back in the lead.

The game really started to look alive and Tello, Pedro and Messi were combining quite effectively. The young Tello who up until recently was a Barca B player, lived up to all the humongous expectations he created last season. He was playing on the left flank and was cutting past defenders and providing all the necessary crosses. It was during one of those episodes that Messi utilized a cross to the fullest and doubled the lead before quarter of an hour.  Xavi and Fabregas remained loyal to the tiki-taka passing and the Camp Nou cheered and applauded every single breathtaking display.

Vilanova decided to put Iniesta on the bench with an El Clasico coming up on Thursday and David Villa was seen eager and anxious to come onto the pitch too. As the first half was nearing its end, Christian Tello once again provided a cross and Pedro delightfully drove the ball into open net for a thumping 4-1 lead. Something that was quite heartening to see was that the Spanish youngster Jordi Alba fit into the system like a perfect cog in the wheel. Tito brought on Iniesta in the second half for Cesc and the best player of Euro 2012 worked about his magic and came close to scoring a couple of times too. Apart from a minor injury scare for Iniesta late in the game, it was a walk in the park for the home team. It was probably the heat of the night or just that a little bit of complacency had infiltrated into the camp, that FCB lost a little bit of the shine and glamour and the game seemed a bit of a drab.

Vilanova probably thought that this was the perfect time to bring on David Villa. It was an emotional moment for all fans as the outgoing Pedro was elated to shake Villa’s hand and welcome him onto the pitch. The champion striker immediately produced some exciting passes and dribbles before he struck a brilliant curler off his left foot on the 84th minute. Spanish national team’s all time top scorer showed us his emotional side as he displayed a Tee saying” Impossible without you, ladies” referring to his wife and two daughters as he ran back to the dug out to hug his trainer. He was playing after 9 months and his goal both brought relief to the home team and probably sent a chill down the ‘special’ one’s, I beg your pardon, ‘the unique’ one’s spine. It was all coming back to me like flashbacks from the 2010-11 season when FCB produced scintillating football match after match and scored 5 goals on numerous occasions. But guys watch out for the wounded tiger this year, not because Messi is scoring, or Tito Vilanova is effective, but because the MVP combo is back. When Messi, Villa and Pedro start scoring, it means death to opposition defences.

He “Thor” the competition apart

The Greeks could be in all sort of financial mess today but they have to be kept on a pedestal for their many significant contributions to humankind like politics, philosophy, medicine etc. But nothing quite compares to this assembly of global sport icons  in a single city, all fighting for glory and national pride.  Once in four years, the world stands by and observes a truly magnificent spectacle called the Olympics. Something tells me this is why the year of the games like 2008 and 2012 are known as ‘leap’ years, for the kernel spirit of the Olympics is definitely about taking that ‘leap of faith’.

The human mind is more advanced than the other co-habitants of planet earth, specifically because we observe and learn from all events and actions transpiring around us. I have employed a similar exercise in this article as I pore over all the events on and off the field and delve into the potential lessons we all can take back  and internalize from London 2012 .

Stick to your knitting

Not a Bird’s Nest, Brit’s Best

The corporate giant GE once boasted of the management guru Jack Welch. He was a repository of ideas and maxims and he once said that a company should be either No. 1 or 2 in the industry or stop doing that business altogether. Paraphrasing the words, it simply means that if we have to survive and sustain, we have to play to our strengths. The Beijing Olympics was a tremendous success, considering all the clouds of suspicion that were surrounding China with regards to its  ability to hold an event of such magnitude. The monstrosity that took place in the ‘Bird’s Nest’ on 8th August 2008 changed the way the world saw this Giant and probably for many more decades to come that kind of a show will never be executed again.

The pressure was immense on the shoulders of the London Olympics organizers to try and match up to the quality of their predecessors. But Danny Boyle provided a ravishing opening ceremony which embodied Great Britain in all of its cultural uniqueness. Never has simplicity been so splendid and it laid down the foundation for things to come. In essence, we learned a valuable lesson of maximizing your forte.

Never an amputated spirit

When the tremendously talented Al Pacino performs in the last scene of ‘ Scent of a woman’, one cannot help but observe the artist’s abilities with shock and awe. However, the captivating part of the scene is when he mentions that he has seen young boys and girls fight battles with lost limbs, but there is nothing like an amputated spirit for which there is no prosthetic. True to that revered statement, this Olympics witnessed two outstanding athletes, Oscar Pistorius and Natalia Partyka.

Partyka is a Polish table tennis player who was born without a right forearm, while Pistorius had his legs amputated below the knee when he was eleven. They have been gold medal winners in the Paralympic games in the previous editions but just witnessing them compete alongside able-bodied beings with gusto and a complete absence of self-pity instilled a heavy dose of confidence to live my life, albeit with an unmistakable accompaniment of shame. Seriously guys, what have we accomplished? Let us take a leaf out this fairy-tale and go on to perform with excellence in our own fields and be unfazed by any curve-ball that life throws at us.

Winner after losing both the legs

Hand of God

Even Gulliver was brought down

When giants fall

Every time a hero emerges out of the blue, it is so refreshing to see that, and soon the individual is showered with accolades. This pinnacle of glory is soon followed by a burden of expectations and can crush even a seasoned campaigner’s dream into shambles of dust. Micheal Phelps had conquered the world with a stroke of genius – literally. He got more gold medals than countries’ totals in Beijing and was heading for legendary status. One of America’s greatest foes, Russia, had produced a pole vaulting supremo called Elena Isinbayeva who held 28 world records before coming into London 2012.

They had trained rigorously and won championships in the four-year gap and were the nonpareil favorites to take that lustrous gold back home. Phelps ended up adding a few more golds to his tally, but was also found committing school-boyish style errors and lost by a whisker to a young South African Le Clos in the 100 m butterfly event. Isinbayeva, who was the first ever woman to cross the 5 meter barrier, could only get a bronze as she could not even get past the 4.7 meter mark. It only goes to show that even a giant can be brought down and that is one true adaptation of a David v Goliath story.

Say cheese after losing

‘One Mile’ Smile

When somebody wins the Gold and comes out on top, you find them bursting into tears almost immediately. Isn’t the logical conclusion then that a loss or a silver medal should bring about a smile on your face? This hardly ever happens as sportsmanship only reveals its true colors at the hands of defeat.

This phenomenon called Phelps was standing on the podium holding a silver medal and losing out to a rookie. But there he was smiling famously as he always does without even a tinge of anger, pain or regret. He was happy for himself as well as his compatriot who took gold and his stock just went up a few hundred points in my book. Later on, in an interview, he did not even complain and said the silver medals he won reflected his degree of preparation and if he did not get a gold, then the blame fairly and squarely fell on his preparation. Now this is what champions are made of, and the lesson for all of us is that when you don’t perform it is definitely because you did not work hard enough.

Country comes second

Brothers in Arms

It is a tough thing  to digest when somebody claims that the country comes second at the Olympics, but when I witnessed the events of the North Greenwich Arena, I started to realize that the Olympics was much more than winning medals for your country. The gymnasts from all over the world proved that it was camaraderie and love for the sport itself that matters the most.

An American artistic gymnast gets the crowd’s applause after a fantastic finish off the vault, and is in the silver medal position. When he sees another Korean go about and deliver a superlative performance, he stands up, claps and hugs the Korean in joy as he gets back. These professionals did not bother about being thrown out of the medals contention. Every single athlete and coach was happy for anyone else who delivered a better performance.

When you truly love your profession or work, you will always be in search of excellence and not success. I would fail miserably if I forgot to mention that touching incident when the Chinese star Liu Xiang fell down after injuring himself at the first hurdle of the heats. He then proceeded alone, limped on one leg all the way and kissed the last hurdle, after which a few other athletes who had completed the race lent their shoulders to carry him away. Once again, all geographic demarcations blurred away; only humanity stood steadfast, not limping.

My dog ate my homework

Gone with the wind

I used to play shuttle badminton back in school and was good at it too. But sometimes there would be a player who would just prove to be indomitable. This is when I would start thinking of how I would react after losing the match. In the end I always came up with excuses like “there was too much noise”, or “the light was shining into my eyes”, etc.

I always expected athletes participating in the Olympics to be more professional, but boy was I wrong. Abhinav Bindra blamed  the excessive clapping and cheering from fans for his horrendous performance, while Deepika Kumari called the conditions way too windy. Well Mr. Gold medal from Beijing, why don’t you go to your backyard and shoot bullets where nobody can clap and cheer? And Miss World No. 1, how unprepared were you if you did not even know that Lord’s is  a windy place? Basically I have two words for both of you – “shut up”. Own up to your failures and for God’s sake, stop looking in the direction of monetizing your popularity.

All work and no play, sounds like Chinese clay

The Chinese have clearly proven to the world that if at all there is a superpower in the making, it is them. They already are an economic powerhouse and the way they have been garnering gold medals, it seems like USA would have to step aside. But as you delve deeper into the government-funded sports program of China, there is definitely some kind of a hidden agenda. People from China have been blogging about the laborious training measures these young athletes are made to undergo so that they can get the coveted gold.

I heard about this story where a young athlete was kept in complete ignorance about the death of her grandmother and the truth that her mother had contracted cancer, so that it would not distract the young lady from her training. This is perfectly understandable if the parents took this decision as we know how our parents are too and they hide all their sadness and suffering from their children. But if the government had something to do with this, then “Shame on you, China”. Let the kids play and don’t treat them like auto parts on a production line.

Pressure is a privilege

Ennis the Menace

Performing when nobody expects you to, is a cinch (at least relatively), but what separates the men from the boys is that ability to deliver when people put their trust in you. Jessica Ennis, the heptathlon star was the poster girl representing Team GB and was the face of London 2012. She endorsed a huge array of brands leading up tom the games and the pressure on her was herculean .

One could judge by the look on her face every time the camera panned around her that the entire weight of Britain was on her shoulders. But she delivered better, faster and higher and took the gold home. This is where I would like to talk about our own Sushil Kumar who is the only Indian athlete now to win an individual  medal in two different editions of the games. This clearly shows that the no other athlete could cope with the pressure of expectations and preferred to rest on past laurels. Remember this,  “If you cannot do it again, maybe the first time was just a fluke”.

Drawing board or kitchen sink: A Hobson’s Choice

Brawn takes her to Bronze

I did say somewhere in the previous paragraphs that it is not about winning a medal. However, if you failed miserably and came last, then as Simon Cowell of American Idol fame would say “Maybe, it’s not your thing”. Stop whining and get back to the drawing boards people. I would strongly recommend Vijender Singh to leave the points system to the judges and carry on boxing. Also, it would be the right time for the pugilist to stop focusing on endorsements and Bollywood debuts.

I am not entirely cognizant of the order of events and finger-pointing that took place involving all the tennis players and the Indian Tennis Federation, but if two successful doubles players could not keep aside their egos and play together for the nation, then its is pitiful to say the least, Mr. Paes and Mr. Bhupathi. I would not even want to squander my energy and linguistic abilities on our hockey team. Guys, stop comparing yourselves to the cricketing stars; they are popular and earn more because they win. I do have some reservations of Team India’ s prospects in cricket too but I don’t want to digress.

The worthy one

The London games was a great celebration of sports, unity, nationalism and most of all,  brotherhood. Nobody can forget a certain Usain Bolt who proved to all of us that he is the greatest sprinter ever and it was a true delight to watch him run and make his idiosyncratic moves for the sake of the camera. But thank God he doesn’t have to talk for a living because the Jamaican lad suffers from verbal diarrhea.

Before concluding I would like to salute all our medal winners, Gagan Narang, Vijay Kumar, Saina Nehwal, Mary Kom, Yogeshwar Dutt and last but never the least Sushil Kumar for they fought a tough race against the world’s best and although the medal they won wasn’t of the best color, a podium finish is still a stupendous feat and it was all possible because they stayed committed to the creed of the Olympic games.

Citius, Fortius, Altius.

Barcelona lift Club World Cup

First of all, before I go about my job of portraying a descriptive analysis of the FIFA Club World Club Final held in Japan, I would like to express my utmost disappointment with TEN sports and all its associates for misleading the viewers about its ‘live’ telecast as ultimately they ended up showing the final ‘deferred live’. There was apparently a horse racing tournament which was given the preference over a galaxy of footballing genius from Europe and Latin America. Finally after  forty five minutes of elapsed time, and a few bursts of rage resulting in some self-inflicted injury, the wise men at Ten sports started showing the match. The curtain-raiser to this encounter was tantamount to a megalomaniac arriving at the stage flaunting all his material possessions. It was all about Messi and the potential threat to him in the form of Neymar. Things only got spiced up even more because of  a variety of reasons viz.

a) the fact that these two gentlemen were from Argentina and Brazil whose footballing rivalry is steeped in history

b)  Neymar is touted as the next big thing to the current king called Messi

c) both of these players have their goals nominated in the Ferenc Puskas FIFA best goal award for this year, and

d)  crucially because the Brazilian teenager put on a brilliant display in the semifinal. Long story short, the dish to be served was one mouthwatering delicacy tastier than a Japanese Sushi.

Within seconds FCB began doing what they were best at ‘adamant possession’ and soon the passes and moves started to soothe the eye. Messi and company already were getting quite comfortable with their give-and go style of play and a few chances were fired on target in the opening ten minutes. FCB were dominating the game better than a control-freak running a relationship and statistics were showing that they held the ball for 75% of the time elapsed. At the seventeenth minute Xavi acrobatically controlled the ball and slid one through to Messi, who after a deft touch and enough contemplation lobbed the ball over the goalie and into the net. Barcelona was on their way and the Argentine scored for the second time in a final of the FIFA CWC after that famous decider against Estudiantes two year ago. After this moment it was like the flood gates opened and the hits just kept on coming. Xavi brilliantly collected and maneuvered the ball from Alves before striking it low into the opposition net before the half hour mark. Santos was looking more obscure  on the pitch that they would have been if they were lost in the busy streets of Tokyo. One can hardly blame Neymar for his poor display, as his team mates could hardly hold to even some respectable possession. As halftime approached Fabregas netted the third one after another stubborn play from Messi instead of taking an easy fall and penalty offer. The emotions of the team-mates on the bench, and Pep Guardiola said it all and showed how important this victory was to them. The second half was more like the cuddling between a couple after all the explosive wild sex and climax as Barcelona kept passing while Santos created some decent chances. With just about 9 minutes left in regulation time, alves pounced on a defensive error and passed the ball to Messi, who after a slightly hard first touch adjusted pretty well through a soft left foot and beat the goalie to ultimately drive the ball for FCB’s fourth goal.

Here we go again…

Barcelona was majestic on the day and just proved too good for this Brazilian side, and in the process managed to avenge their defeat to another Brazilian side 5 years ago at the same tournament. Its amazing how things change in a matter of 8 days as FCB defeated their rivals Real Madrid in their own backyard last Saturday to keep themselves in the hunting for the La Liga crown and come here and take this FIFA CWC too. It all could have been very ungainly if they had lost in the El Clasico and I believe it is the mental make-up of this side that takes them through high and handsome, whatever be the challenges. Messi for the zillionth time proved that when he sets his foot on the pitch on the big stage, he will not rest till he delivers. As far as the individual duel was concerned Neymar did certainly show that he is got something to offer to this world of football in the future, but this karate kid will never forget the soccer lesson he learned in Japan from the Magical Mr. Miyagi a.k.a Lionel Messi.

awesome foursome

Before the match began the media was only talking about the much awaited battle between the top strikers Messi and Falcao. This became especially thrilling after the recent sluggish performances of FCB at the solitary UCL outing against AC Milan and La Liga draws. Also the fact that both these strikers were leading the goal-scoring charts was like fuel to added to fire. It was 1:30 AM in India when the match was scheduled to begin and a victory at Nou Camp became even more imperative after the arch rivals Real Madrid came back from a horrendous first half performance to beat the debutant Rayo Vallecano at home. With FCB lying fourth in the table, all eyes were fixed on this weekend fixture. However, to nobody’s big surprise the Blaugrana demolished this side 5-0 which showed so much of promise on paper.

The first half began in a routine fashion with Barcelona trying to retain the ball and the opponents hardly showed any resilience. Puyol and Pique did started on bench with Busquets and Mascherano taking their spots in the starting eleven. The FCB players even wore shirts supporting and wishing a speedy recovery for the injured Ibrahim Affellay who could be out of action for more than 6 months. The MVP trio of Messi, Villa and Pedro played upfront and started creating chances immediately but it took a brilliant pass from Xavi and a wonderful set of skills from Villa to put FCB ahead on the scoreboard. A few minutes later Messi made his usual run through the defense but failed to beat the goalie but fortunately it turned into an own goal. And then came this uneventful throw-in which Messi somehow converted into a brilliant move and before anyone winked eyelids it was yet another stupendous goal form the little magician. The halftime whistle came with score 3-0.

The second half started in no different way with the men from Barcelona piling on to the misery of their opponents as the visitors could not create even a single decent chance. This game was little different from the normal Barcelona games. Though the passing was sublime as usual, the team certainly missed the services of Iniesta and the number of passes were limited with Xavi, Cesc and Thiago occassionally gunning for long passes. Messi scored two more goals in the second half to get the second hattrick of the season matching Cristiano Ronaldo and his second goal of the match was truely a fan’s delight. After this convincing victory at home, FCB climbs to the second spot on tha La Liga table with Real Betis ahead of them having a perfect record in four games. Pep Guardiola and his men will have a lot of satisfaction from this match but with the injury roster growing longer and more Champions League matches to come, Guardiola has a tough task ahead of him to keep his boys fit and fierce.

That was a piece of cake….

FCB entered the pitch with a strong side but left Iniesta and Pedro. Sanchez was injured during the last game and hence watched the game from the gallery but the legendary Puyol made it to the starting line-up. The defensive line looked a little shaky with Mascherano and Abidal taking centre positions and the Brazilian duo of Alves and Adriano taking right and left wing positions. Thankfully they were not put to the test with the ball refusing to leave the feet of the Barcelona men. The usual suspects of Xavi, Villa and Messi were just putting up a brilliant display, but the man to outshine most, if not all of them was the ex-gunner Fabregas.

His passing and aggressive runs off the ball were simply astonishing and deservedly he netted the second goal of the game. Cesc also made an unselfish assist inside the penalty box to give Villa his second goal of the match. Xavi got into the rooster of goals with a smart flick over the goalie to get the sixth goal on the scoring sheet. The assist as usual came from the golden boy Messi who had a brilliant game. Two precise assists and a hat-trick puts the genius back at the top the list of goal scorers in La Liga so far with 5 goals just ahead of the “rich, handsome and great” Ronaldo. The third goal from Messi was the most stupendous of them all where he showed his magic if only a wee bit of it.

The result clearly has sent a strong signal too all clubs in Europe and their arch rivals Real Madrid who will be playing Levante tonight, and it was thrilling and satisfying to see the top club back at their best but the disappointment of seeing all the other sides failing to even give a fight to the top notch sides lingers on.

Player Ratings

Potential Champions

I have been a big fan of the English football team for quite sometime now and that is probably because of the stars they always boast of, rather than the quality of football itself. In life it is an undeniable truth that reality almost never exceeds expectations, and if there was a quantitative measure for the gap between the two, the widest gap would be for an English football fan considering all the hype before every international tournament and the ultimate disappointing exit of the team, time and time again. I have been one of them too as I, to this day, idolize the great Steven Gerrard. But last night when I watched the Euro qualifier between England and Wales, I realized that this English team has gone through a sea change in the way they play. Having said that, these are just early days and they have miles to go, but many supporters of this football side would be sharing my joy and hope that someday in not the distant future, this talented bunch will emerge victorious.

Young and Restless

The playing eleven was looking very refreshing with no Scholes, Brown etc. I have the greatest respect for them, but when young blood is introduced into a team it just instils excitement and confidence.  Downing with his attack from the right flank and the Red Devil Ashley Young from the left flank created considerable peril to the Welsh defense. I must say that I am quiteimpressed by Young’s skills and the goal scored by him resulting from the brilliant run from Downing is testament to their abilities. England was playing a level that will be envied upon by many international sides, and something that they themselves have never been able to do before. I remember the days when Beckham and Gerrard use to fire in these long range passes and crosses and Owen would try everything within his reach to score. Many minutes and chances later, a horrendous blunder from the English goalie would put the opposition ahead. This is the story we all know, but this time was different. The patience and passing exhibited by the Englishmen will be lingering in my mind for a long time to come. Without too much of exaggeration, it did seem like FC Barcelona was playing.

Trust in Wayne, wont go in Vain

I have not been a great fan of Lampard, however in this game he played his role to perfection. I would be miserably failing in my op-ed duties if I forgot to mention and heap praise on the contribution of Wayne Rooney. Many readers might not agree to what I am about to say, but Rooney is severely underrated and in fact is a couple of notches above CR7 or CR9(sorry I don’t pay attention to his number). Anyway before I digress, my point is that the all round abilities of the English striker is way above most of thehyped footballers of today. This match was no exception to that fact, and it was visible in every pass, movement and coverage on the pitch. On more than a couple of occasions he actually was seen in the position of a fullback and also doing a great job of it. His performance is going to be extremely crucial for England’s chances at the Euro championships. Finally credit must be definitely given to this Manchester City quartet of Barry, Johnson, Milner and most of all Hart. One particular moment when the goalie plunged forward and made a save with his extended right arm was breathtaking, though the goal would have been disallowed anyway.

Great expectations

Shifting the focus to Wales now, there were instances when the team could have caused some serious damage to the scoreline but all the valiant efforts of Bale and Ramsey went without any fruition. The scoreline could have easily ended up being two to one if it were not for a pathetic error from a striker and tight offside call from the linesman. Gareth Bale had a great first touch from a long range ball and was in my opinion in a onside position when he did so, and thenwent past a defender with ease before the flag went up. Knowing and having watched Bale week in and week out, he would have definitely found the back of the net. But the mother of all misses came from the Welsh striker called Earnshaw which I am sure even G.B.Shaw would have been able to score, from that range. None of this should take away any credit from the strength and performance of the English side, but Fabio’s men should be honing their skills and going for the ultimate kill rather than dancing around with a solitary goal lead, something which only the Azzuri have mastered. All in all, things are shaping up well for Capello’s  squad and with the arrival of Steven Gerrard things can only sound more promising.

City of Joy Welcomes the God

I had planned to go and watch this game long before ticket sales had begun and the hype and expectations were building up enormously. Even the disappointing performance of Argentina at the recently held Copa America did not capsize my level of interest. I took my father along with me to watch this spectacle as I had already missed out on that opportunity when I watched the Albicelestes play South Korea in Johannesburg during the 2010 World Cup. The flight to Kolkata left early in the morning from Chennai and to my amazement, the entire flight was filled with people of all ages and genders sporting a Messi Jersey either that of FCB or Argentina. The person sitting next to me was travelling from this Tier – II city called Madurai with around 15 members of his family. However the more surprising part came up next when he said that his son was named Messi. We touched down at Subhash Chandra Bose International Terminal and immediately started taking a few snaps in front of a Messi banner at the airport. After having lunch at our relative’s place, we set out to the stadium well ahead of time so that we could catch a glimpse of the warm up and training sessions of the Argentines. The entire city was painted blue & white with Auto rickshaws embellished with the national flag of Argentina and cars decorated with petals of blue flowers. The stadium had arrived and we walked in and climbed onto the middle tier only to be visually enthralled by the majestic structure. The stands were getting filled up and finally with an hour to go for the start of the match the gladiators of football began their march onto the pitch with the crowd giving them a resounding applause.

The blue & white brigade

Within a short-while the kick-off took place and it was a historic moment that we were witnessing. This was the first FIFA international friendly in India and both the teams had put their top-notch sides on the field. It was a little disturbing to see that one of the stands was barely full and the total audience was just around 80,000 in a stadium with capacity of over 1 lakh people. Within a few minutes, the ball reached the feet of the master and there was a quick dribble and a turn near the dug-out and the crowd went berserk with that piece of magic. I immediately felt that I had already got some action of my money’s worth. It did not stop there, as the men in blue & white dribbled and passed with finesse and had a handful of chances within the first quarter of the game. Imagine this article of mine was a skillfully written movie and now that I am taking you back to the opening scene of the movie, you will find that I talked about the inexplicable silence in the  football stadium. A few ‘bongs’ sitting next to us explained that the decibel levels during a match between Mohun Bagan and East Bengal would be deafening. Then as I watched Messi slalom through many more defenders, the spectators once again started chanting their ‘oohs’  and ‘aahs’. It was at this time that I realized that the crowd was emphatically silent as all their attention was on tracking the movement of La Pulga, and as soon as the ball reached his feet their excitement levels shot up the roof. I had just not seen anything like this. When I compare this to the audience of the Soccer City stadium in Johannesburg, the 96,000 Argentina fans were just boisterous throughout the match with no particular idol-worship or captivation shown for Messi.

The magician all alone in the corner of excellence

The Venezuelans had quite the fight in them too and they kept trying some long rangers but it was not good enough because of the sharp reflexes of Sergio Romero. The second half was once again interspersed with some brilliant midfield play by leo, but the shortcomings of the team came into play time and again.  Most of the goals scored by Messi for FC Barcelona  are by products of scintillating one-touch football, and even from a seat in the stadium it is blatantly clear that the Argentines were nowhere near the skill of a Xavi or Iniesta. Last season Messi had the most number of assists in La Liga, and that was because Villa, Pedro and others had the vision and ability to finish off goals. This very match Gonzalo Higuain, missed a couple of regulation strikes and this is the reason Messi’s performances seem mediocre for Argentina in comparison with Barcelona. There was a brilliantly taken free kick from the little master which almost everybody thought hit the back of the net, but it was the deceptive side netting. Just a few minutes had passed when Messi made his signature move from the right flank to the centre, leaving a few defenders for dead, and finally pulling the trigger with his immaculate left foot. In Barcelona colours he would made that goal 9 times out of 10 but things were not working out on this steamy summer night. The resulting corner was taken by Messi and this time, Ottamendi headed the ball in to the net and the crowd simply erupted. Buenos Aires would have felt proud of the yelling and shouting by fans in Kolkata.

father and son on an unforgettable journey

I have been watching football all my life and never before has a game been suspended in between to allow players to rehydrate themselves. Just in the dying minutes, Messi was brought down rashly by the defender near the goal line, and he lay there on the ground for about 30 seconds. The crowd was anxiously waiting and when he finally got up and made his usual strut down the pitch the spectators applauded with a sigh of relief. This was symbolic of the game, as the crowd clearly showed that the whole affair was all about Messi.

September 5^th is when the whole of India celebrates “Teacher’s day”, but it was a “Teach us day” on September 2^nd2011 in the City of Joy. When the Magical Messi sets his foot on the football pitch, it is quite obvious that a few football lessons would be taught to the opposing side as well as the spectators. But a chapter in humility was opened by this superstar athlete who earns around Rs. 2 crores per day. He waved at the crowd just before he got ready to take a corner kick, and he did it again on more than a couple of occasions after the post-match presentation. Overall it was night that I cannot forget and will be sure to tell my grandchildren in detail.

The Messi-ah of football

Top dogs

 It was the 15^th of August and the whole of India was ready to celebrate the occasion of our Independence Day. All the television channels were telecasting movies and songs propagating the spirit of freedom, patriotism and devotion. Then as I shuffled over impatiently with my remote control, I came across this sporting event which completely drove me into a state of depression where the recently crowned world champions and a top notch side in test cricketing terms was being plundered and ravaged like an innocent little lamb by the overpowering purchase of a lioness. Only one thought sprung into my mind and that was that the British were still ruling over India.

I have grown up watching our Indian cricket team shattered many a times by various opponents and hence have been acclimatized to the ignominy of defeat much like this series whitewash. However the sorry plight of our batting and bowing woes has been embittered by the callous display of attitude and spirit by this group of aged boys.

The Wailing Wall

Will we ever be able to find the replacement to this genius?

The Jews, for centuries, have been heading to this site to weep and bemoan about their grief. The Indian team for more than a decade now has been going to one man for all its SOA (Save Our Arses) calls and this silent guardian and watchful protector is also our wailing wall.  Rahul Dravid is this batsman who has been our team’s go-to guy during all our tours abroad, and this one has just been a another case of old wine in a new bottle. The level of application that this veteran has shown is quite exemplary and has proven that even a God king like Sachin can bleed and there so much for this genius to learn from Mr. Dependable. The way Dravid donned the role of a keeper and walked in as a opening batsman, all goes to show the commitment and spirit of sacrifice. The other ten members of this team had to just do their jobs and we could have averted this mishap. The problem with this team is that they have tasted so much of success; both as individuals and as a group that they fail to realize the value of playing second-fiddle. The reason Dravid stands out is because he does not crave the limelight and he just wants to do his job right.  The newer crop of batsmen like Raina and Yuvraj and Kohli will find this concept hard to understand and adopt. We might be light-years away from finding a replacement for Dravid (batting wise) but we would be doing a great favor to ourselves if the cricket board can impart all the wisdom of patience and perseverance more than power and prowess into these youngsters.

The usual suspects

Nasser Hussein among many of slurs and caustic comments on the light of Indian cricket said that if Praveen Kumar is leading the bowling attack for India then it says quite a lot about our team strength. I remember when bowlers like Srinath, Prasad and Agarkar have troubled the English batsmen with their swing and serve. This attack has looked meeker than the ones that boasted of David Johnson and Paras Mhambrey. But I believe the real problem lies somewhere else, and that would have to be our lack of responsibility among the batsmen as well as tail-enders. Though the English batsmen caused enough damage to our pride, their all-rounders  like Bresnan, Broad and Swann dented it further. Leaving aside Amit Mishra, the rest of the batsmen lacked spine and substance. There were a couple of occasions during the first two matches when we could have easily turned things around, but we are horrendously short of fighters in our team.

The Quick fix

1. Drop players like Suresh Raina and Yuvraj Singh who need to value their place in the side and learn that consistent under-performance will not be tolerated.
2. Harbhajan Singh needs to pick up his socks and start becoming more attacking. So he should be asked to bowl in domestic tournaments for a while.
3. Sachin Tendulkar should be cajoled to give up all forms of cricket like IPL too, so that he can focus on his Test career. But the coach could let the master blaster know that once he crosses century of century mark, then the selection process could be quite stringent and harsh for him too.
4. Dhoni has to be emphatically told that he cannot be another Mark Taylor who cements his place in the side purely based on his captaincy record.  Matt Prior has been extremely agile in his ‘keeping and very dependable in his batting and Dhoni needs to learn a thing or two from his compatriot. His place is no longer a certainty, the earlier he realizes this, and greater will be the benefits to Indian cricket.

Permanent fix

1. Provide youngsters like Pujara, Rahane, and Rayudu chance to play in the Test Arena through some kind of a rotation policy soon rather than waiting for Sachin, Laxman and Dravid to retire. If we do not do this the transition will be that much harder.
2. Snatch control of IPL from the hands of our BCCI and let a private organization run it. BCCI has more pressing issues to concentrate on
3. Make a rule such that youngsters will only be allowed to play in IPL after a certain minimum number of years or matches in Ranji trophy. Only Test matches give the solid foundation required become a player of tried and tested quality.

There are many more solutions that can be devised but the sooner the better.

Adopt, Adapt and Adept

Citius,Altius,Fortius

I am an engineer and never had substantial exposure to the world of evolutionary biology, however am aware of the“Survival of the fittest” theory. Going by Darwinism, this newest format of the game is certainly something of a worthwhile innovation which has captivated spectators, commentators and athletes alike and is truly testing the survivor skills of these cricketers. The audience is thrilled with the whole idea of more runs and boundaries and sixes while the presenters have more instances of shouting and cheering and why wouldn’t they love it when it gets them the same amount of greenback for lesser talking. Finally and most importantly the format does help players display some of their swashbuckling skills which would in the longer version of the game only get a severe reprimand. Anything that is going to make the game more popular in the test playing nations and help the game spread its wings to uncharted territory like China and Latin America is definitely worthy to adopt into the scheme of things.

If one were to consider the players, such variations to the game provide the necessary tests that only the fittest can manage to survive. To think of an analogy the modern game is like a CAT exam with all sections on Math and verbal ability and hence the student to score high on both is much more preferred over a Math genius with a poor vocabulary and vice versa. Suresh Raina can walk into any side today because he can notch up a century in all 3 formats of the game. This is true for many other players today who have portrayed their faculty of adaptation quite well and any team which can boast of such talent is sure to dominate the game in the future. Finally if the athlete has the aptitude and attitude to adept to such curveballs (probably have to call them googlies in the cricketing context) he can literally cement his place not only in the squad but also in the history books. A player like M.S. Dhoni clearly fits this bill with his limited potential but unlimited chutzpah. When he started out he sizzled on the pitch with his lofty(pun unintended) strokes, but with the passage of time he demonstrated that he can nudge and stay put on the wicket too, and this is where he proved that being adept at something, takes you far.

Change and die

I can face chin music, what about you boys?

This is what some of the greatest traditions and institutions of the world would say if ever somebody recommended them to change and modernize. The Wimbledon championships never allowed Andre Agassi to play at the All England Championships until he agreed to abide by their “Whites only” rule. Neither would they allow the turf to be changed into something other than grass nor would a ceiling be allowed to be constructed over the Centre Court because any change would take away the originality of The Championships. I believe that the arrival of T20 is slowly but very steadily paralyzing the game and its most vital parts. Americans and the English have always been at loggerheads and the former have invented ways to break away from the tradition and custom of the latter. If the English drove their automobiles on the left, the Americans made it “keep Right”, and the US decided to have 110 Volts for operating their electrical appliances because the British used 220 V and the list can just be endless. However in the field of sports it is almost like the Yankees designed the game of baseball as an answer to the game of cricket. I am not qualified enough to write or opine to the detriment of any sport but I am confident that what separates Cricket from its cousin on the other side of the Atlantic a.k.a Baseball, are the elements of character and application. Ask Rahul Dravid and he will tell you how Test Cricket is the easiest way to separate men from boys, but all that T20 has managed to achieve is bridge that gap between Cricket and baseball. Off the top of my head, T20 to cricket is like something that would happen to football if the game was reduced to just Penalty Shootouts. Why is it that we also do not have a classical, fearful speedster today? The closest we have today is a man named Dale Steyn and even he, I am afraid, would not appear in the top 50 greatest fast bowlers of all time. Cleary I need not have an Oxford degree in Nuclear physics to understand that players today want to develop all round facets to match the demands of a 20 over-a-side game rather nurturing pure skills and strength to bowl 20 overs in an Innings. The great Michael Holding has similar complaints against this format and hence to this day he has not watched a single game of this slam-bam-sham mediocre cricket.

Every sport goes through changes over a period of time, and a certain degree of it is warranted like FIFA trying out the Golden

The confession of a modern day cricketer

goal and Silver goal rules and ATP trying to do away with the ‘Deuce’ point to make the game more entertaining but a monumental drift away from ‘Old School’ type Test cricket might just turn to be the nemesis for this great sport. Until time delivers the answer let us pray that a ‘John Connor’ comes to the rescue against this money-making crowd pulling machine called T20.

Chapter 5: It can all get over in 6 minutes

These are definitely not the words any woman might be impressed by, but men certainly love more action packed into shorter duration. This is why something like an IPL with a 20 over format has men going gaga. Now let me roll back time by a few

Heading this way towards glory

years to this land perched in between Asia and Europe called Turkey. The UEFA Champions League final between ‘The Reds’ and Milan was being held at Istanbul and I being a huge fan Steve G, rooted for Liverpool FC. My dad on the other hand has always been a colossal supporter of anything to do with Italian Soccer as he first watched Paolo Rossi and his brigade take the world cup in 1982. The match began and AC Milan dominated the proceedings like a hag wife against a hen-pecked husband. By half time I almost turned deaf from all the whistling hurled at me from my dad’s end of the bed. The 15 minutes during the break was nerve-wracking for me, but you could say that there was no hope left inside of me and I had begun searching for excuses to defend my side. My mother is the one being who would just take my side with all other facts and details being rendered immaterial, and here she was fighting against my dad’s idiosyncrasies. It was around the 54^th minute and Steven Gerrard like a true leader, leaped in the air and completed a deft header. 6 minutes later, the score-line, was 3-3. I am sure all you people remember this moment and it was surreal to say the least. The rest as they say is history. With regards to my dad’s incessant yelling and trash-talking, it was brought down to ground zero like the twin towers.

Lesson for Life: Why do we fall?… So that we can learn to pick ourselves up

Chapter 6: Forget the bending, think about the ending!!

Now you may bend it all you want like the great David Beckham, but if you can end it like Wiltord then that is priceless. This

The fat lady can sing now!!

was the final of the Euro 2000 played between the Italians and World Champions France. The Azzuri were in their usual style and mode of play where they got an early lead and then decided to ‘park the bus’. We were watching the match and this time my dad had another friend of mine on his side and they were literally having a party even before the match got over because it looked like Italy had gotten the trophy in the bag. It was the 90^th minute and the Italian players had gathered up at the sidelines waiting to rush into the field in celebratory joy. I was just happy that the game would finally end and so would all the boisterous cheering and romping from my dad and friends. But things took a dramatic turn, as Sylvain Wiltord, equalized in the dying seconds and I returned from a comatose situation into one of drunken revelry. It was the sheer determination and relentless nature of the Frenchmen which took them to European glory.

Lesson for Life:  Just don’t ever quit… always keep your eyes on the prize!!!!

Chapter 7: When the Rainbow nation beckons, dark clouds don’t matter

When I was doing my MBA in 2006, I and my football frenzy friend (alliteration unintended) decided that we go to South

I came, I saw, It conquered!!!

Africa for the 2010 world cup. Now as we all know we men make so many statements which we seldom mean. My other friend was also drunk that night and that would enhance the triviality of the commitment we made to ourselves (of course I was sober that night, just like any other time). So when 2010 arrived I had made up mind on heading towards the ‘dark continent’. The parts where South Africa was involved like getting the tickets online, things were very organized and smooth. However I really had to run the gauntlet with my passport having expired a year back, and the renewal taking more than 2 months. Things were typical of a red tape and days were getting tense as I seriously started having doubts about the trip. But it was that desire to see Messi and Maradona that drove me to try harder. Thanks to the support of a few friends and family, I was able to make it and to this day those two hours, in a minus 5 degree chilly afternoon at the Soccer City Stadium watching two of the greatest footballers to have ever played the game, are the most treasured 120 minutes of my life thus far.

Lesson for Life:  When you want something real bad, it’s impossible not to get it!!!

This is no match!!!!!!

I have been a very athletic individual all my life (not to be understood as showing off, rather a true testimony) and hence always been part of my school and college teams in most sports. I even ran the 100 meters once in under 11 seconds, okay now I have to stop with the trumpet blowing. Anyway my strong point was the game of basketball and I possessed highly accurate shooting skills. Ergo I got picked for my school team and had to represent in a state-level tourney. Back in my school I was making baskets at will and entertaining the crowd with the suave dribbles. My initials, M J, also were doing their bit to draw all these comparisons with the legendary Michael Jordan, and the cheering classmates of the opposite gender only made matters worse and added teeth to my haughtiness and overconfidence.

It was time now to play that much awaited competition and we were traveling by bus carrying loads of smugness and pride. When the match began we left the opponents bamboozled with our passing and shooting. I once during a defensive play stole the ball from the point guard and ran towards our basket, but when I reached the 3 point line shot it from ‘downtown’. It was a sexy basket; in fact that was what a girl standing in the sideline shouted. I felt like I had reached the pinnacle of my life. A few minutes later things started to change and our opponents began to unleash their virtuoso. We just could not control possession for more than 20 seconds at the most. At half time my coach even managed to slide in a caustic comment asking me to join him and our girls’ basketball team in their draw of the competition.  We were defeated black and blue and on our journey back to our campus we were fabricating stories about how we lost a very tight encounter so that we would look like brave heroes in front of our classmates, and also to prevent a barrage of rotten egg projectiles. The other night Manchester United would have gone through a similar range of emotions after their drubbing at the hands of FC Barcelona, the only difference being that the entire world was witness to this depressing display against just  a few hundred boys and girls at our game back in school.

He was a lone star

Well-begun is only half done!!!!!

In the run up to the game I had written a piece on how the finals would definitely not disappoint the football enthusiast in terms of being a tough and nail-biting contest. But I stand corrected as the match turned out to be as one-sided as a 100 m sprint between a grown adult and a cheetah. The lesson we have just come to learn is that in this case it really does not matter if the man was me or Usain bolt. The opening 10 minutes was the only period when Man Utd showed vigor and intent and during this period I feared the worst as J S Park did everything possible to shut out Messi and neither could Xavi or Iniesta get any meaningful touch on the ball. But as the game proceeded into the 15 minute mark sanity prevailed and we were all witness to some fabulous display of passing and dribbling. Much was expected out of this match and hence the disappointment came out to be much larger at the end of it all. I am not qualified enough to judge the strategy of Sir Alex, but all I do know was that the ploy just had no semblance of success. The last thing you would want to see when the catalunyans are playing is give them space and play high up on the defensive line. Well that is what exactly transpired and Pedro and Xavi combined wonderfully and through a truly clinical finish Barcelona went up 1-0. The vision of Xavi and the deft pass from the outside of the foot was equally well anticipated by Pedro. All was still not lost and I knew if there had to be a surprise trigger it had to come from the industrious and relentless legs of Wayne Rooney whose strike after capitalizing on an error-fraught throw-in energized the Red Devils and pacified the fidgety Sir Alex.

The more they change, the more they remain the same!!

At the half-time whistle there was absolutely nothing to choose between the two sides, from at-least the score-line, but to talk in terms of chances that went amiss FCB were ahead by a mile. The sports analysts on Ten Action were quite critical of the style of play exhibited by Man Utd and I had to completely agree with each and every word they uttered. Messi was weaving his magic all along by falling behind at times and playing in line with Xavi and Iniesta and this made me feel that he would not

I can do this all day

probably equal that record 12 goal level at the UEFA Champions League. Then out of nowhere he held the ball just nudged a little to his left and drove the ball quite low to probably surprise the entire gamut of spectators as well as Van Der Sar. What followed was something I have never seen from the tiny destroyer, Messi as he burst towards the corner flag and kicked a giant microphone off the ground. The excitement was quite understandable as it put the Blaugrana back in the lead and he also silenced critics who said he could not score on English Soil. A few minutes later the last missing jigsaw from the MVP (Messi, Villa, Pedro), David villa scored a curler that truly was the last nail on the English side’s coffin. The goal margin was just 2 and this by no means can be termed as a one sided affair but just the quality of one-touch football and movement by the players when they did not have the ball made Man Utd seem like a 2^nd division side.

Let all arguments cease!!!

On top of the world

This tagline is always something I will never forget as ‘The Hindu’ newspaper had used this very headline after the second consecutive century by Sachin Tendulkar in Sharjah which took India past the Aussies. The article propounded the theory that there was only one man standing in the path of greatness and Lara had lost out hands down.  I cannot forget those centuries for one more personal reason and not a very memorable one. I had spent little time preparing for my Engineering entrance exams as I was busy watching Sachin battle the sandstorm (thanks a lot Sachin for ruining my career). Now that I watched the UCL final on 28^th may, I can only think that media men and fans of football all over the world can let Mr. Ronaldo rest a little as there is truly no match to this petty Houdini called Messi. I would right now go on and claim that this footballer is non-pareil even if you considered Pele and Maradona as I have not seen many who could live upto the expectation of a semi-final and final of pre-eminent championships like UCL and deliver time and time again. Frankly speaking where would you place a player like Messi when we see CR7, his closest competitor scoring 10 goals in 3 games of absolutely relevance in the last week of La Liga but hibernating throughout the semifinals and other El Clasico encounters. Along similar lines we can also safely say that Barcelona is more than a club, it is an institution of greatness.

A sea change around me

Something that has really filled my heart with unabating joy other than the outcome of the match itself, is the way the world media and Sir Alex have resoundingly accepted that FC Barcelona are the best side they have seen in a long while. A good friend of mine who is a staunch fan of the English club even added humor to the whole series of unfortunate events by saying that the club played more like Man ‘Who’ rather than Man U. A couple of teenage kids in my vicinity solemnly surrendered to the supremacy of the Spaniards and managed a smile when I did my usual round of trash-talking and called their side ‘Mansuckster’ United. I have been writing various pieces on this website literally beseeching my fellow-writers and readers to see, and think beyond the Iron Curtains laid around English football and I believe this particular match will be successful in achieving that and this can only be for the better of the game. The British tube rail has the signboard saying ‘Mind the gap’ to caution the passengers before boarding the train. Well I am cautioning the European clubs to mind the gap, but the Spanish side has already raced ahead on track

Battlelines drawn

In the world of sports the final encounter is always the mouth watering clash which invokes that heightened sense of anticipation amongst loyalists and laymen alike and brings to life all the cocoons that end up becoming butterflies in our stomach. But like most things in life, reality almost always never exceeds expectations. Who can forget all the three cricket world cup finals from 1999 to 2007 when the Aussies made mincemeat of their opponents and the finals wore the appearance of mediocre qualifiers. Pete Sampras and Roger Federer have quashed their opponents in straight sets as though their challengers were wild card entrants into the tourneys. This list can be quite long and before I get punished by you readers for digressing away from the topic, let me tell you that whatever happens into the early morning hours of 29^th May we can all rest assure that the Battle of Wembley would bring to display a hard-fought tussle between two teams possessing the strongest character and the most superlative quality of football on the planet.

Round Robin & Rubin:

The early stages of the UCL are more or less run-of-the-mill sort of action and outcomes at-least for the top rated teams in Europe and this year was no different. Barcelona had been drawn up with this Russian side called Rubin Kazan and they did defeat the mighty Catalonians in their own den in the previous edition of the UCL and this was the one round robin match which incited some tangible expectations before the beginning of the tournament. However on the opening match-day FCB were startled by a lead with a strike from the French striker Govou playing for Panathinaikos. At this very moment I started having an unpalatable feeling that Barcelona are not going to achieve glory in 2010-11 especially after this match was just preceded by a 2-0 loss to a serious misnomer of a side called Hercules at the Nou camp. Luckily we were blessed with a visionary like Xavi and a merciless marauder called Messi who through one clean finish and another sublime display of tiki-taka style football with his team-mates took us home. A brief scare did present itself in the form of a leg injury to Messi during a weekend fixture against Athletico Madrid but like a schoolboy, the magical flea returned to the pitch within 7 days. A routine training like performance against the Danes and the Russians and Barca were through to the knockout stage of this prestigious competition with considerable ease.

The English Patience – Gone with the wind

Arsene Wenger must have been cursing his stars and those balls at the UCL draws which somehow pit him against the

What just happened!!!

Blaugrana every year. In fact the gunners have themselves to blame as they would have avoided this predicament if they had topped their group in the round robin stage. Anyway the delectable tie was eagerly awaited and this time around Arsenal talked quite a lot before D-Day as to how they were a much stronger side and were ready to beat FCB at their own game. Generally I have been a huge fan of the footballing prowess of this English side, but year after year the display of character is starting to make me think that probably even the Dutch pop group called Vengaboys would end up performing better than these Wenger-boys. The match at the Emirates was a complete demonstration of possession football and I was surprised by the will power of the Arsenal players to keep themselves focused after almost being denied holding of the ball for more than 75 % of the game. Robin Van Persie and Arshavin capitalized on a couple of rookie errors from their opponents and ended up on the winning side at the end of regulation time. Jack Wilshere was quite impressive and the English side did surprise many football analysts, but the slender lead of one goal was never going to be enough when the reverse leg transpired. Everything was going according to plan for Mr. Arsene until a horrendous error emanating from combination of lapse of concentration and a needless display of style from the Spaniard Fabregas gave away the ball to Iniesta and through some divine intervention (referring to Messi’s split-second control of the ball and then gentle loop over the goalie and finally the volleyed drive into the net) Barcelona earned the lead and were all set to move into the quarter-finals stage. The own goal from Busquets did make things a little interesting but Xavi and Messi ensured that the English patience to see their club progress had been uprooted for good. However I must admit that the Gunners came the closest to sending Barcelona packing in this competition and Mr. Nikolas Bendtner just for that regulation miss, should relegate himself to the Danish Second Division League.

El Clasico – Hell no!!

When opposites repel

I wish to confirm to all the Real Madrid fans at the outset that Barcelona have won all the bragging rights and hence I have inmy possession all the trash-talking rights. The classic encounters at the semi finals stage of the UCL that were at least made out to be by the media turned out to be an utter anti-climax with José Mourinho’s side almost satiated and satisfied when they got their hands on the King’s Cup ( and that too only for a brief while thanks to Sergio Ramos). Barcelona were evidently quite dominant at Santiago Bernabeu and enough has already been said about the sneakalicious goal that Messi scored and the ‘Ghosts of defenders past’ sort of goal which has rekindled all the water-cooler talks about the comparisons with the great Maradona. The point remains that the better side cruised through and Mr. Mourinho can gripe all he wants, but I guess all the harsh accusations emerged from the agony of his inability to deliver this time around. This was the round where Barcelona showed strength both at a physical and mental level and if they have to draw any inspiration against the mighty red devils it has to be from the El-Clasico.

Here were are barely few days away from this epic battle and no one can deny the temerity and the talent that these two teams have in their proud possession. Man U is playing its 3^rd final in the last 4 years and FCB its 3^rd in the last 5 years and what more can we ask for as true followers of this beautiful game. If I were to find an analogy to this contest then it would be like trying to choose between the dreamy eyes of your lover and that tenacious heart of hers that saves your rear end every single day. We men need both and rather than trying to indulge in the futile act of picking a winner, let us thank God for these lovely creations, women and football, and just admire, enjoy and behold what is on offer.

P.S.

However the zany, impish child in me provokes me to wish for a result as follows,

I believe the match will be won by FCB in extra time with a strike from David Villa. The regulation time will witness goals from “Chicharito” in the first half and ‘la Pulga’ in the other half.

The lure of beauty is unmistakably the strongest force known to mankind, something that even the humongous ‘G’ force of mother earth would  lose miserably to. Men all over the world would agree to this as they have all faced that raw magnetism of a pretty woman and literally been driven insane by it. There emerges a blind faith in everything that hides behind that beauty. The sooner we recognize the truth, the far lesser will be the misery of an anticlimax. This entire line of reasoning can be applied to the game of football too.

Quality not Quantity

I grew up watching football but it was always the superstars who captivated me more than the team itself. There was no televised club football then and so with whatever little I saw of the international matches it used to be very difficult to pick a team and support it. It was not until 2002 that I really took some interest to club football. I used to wonder how players can gel together and combine to play when there is no thread of commonality running through them like playing for national colors. I was proven wrong, as game after game after game I did come to understand that the quality of football that was at display was far superior to the international matches and there was indeed one common thread – love for the game.

Blaze of glory??

There was one particular team that really did grab my attention and they are known to their loyal fans as The Gunners. In almost every sport that I follow, the one to serenade me has been the true exponent of the game rather than an extractor of best results. In tennis it used to be Edberg and Sabatini who have not won more than a handful of Grand Slams but who just made the game appear a little more beautiful with their deft volleys and single-fisted backhand strokes. The Agassis and Nadals are great champions and nobody can even dream of denying it but it is my humble opinion that these are not the men who solidify the reasons for the game to stand the test of time. However there are players who are true geniuses who blend the aesthetic value of the game into their armory and still embellish their wardrobes with a plethora of awards and medals. Sachin Tendulkar, Roger Federer and Michael Jordan have all been there and done that.

Rise and fall at the Emirates

Let us shift our attention to the mere mortals for now and Arsenal was one team which really fit the bill of  every syllable of “playing for the gallery”. It was during the great FCUK (not a typo) that was rampant at the club with  Frenchmen in the form of Thierry Henry, Patrick Vieira, and Robert Pires and of course Arsene Wenger at the helm of UK club football.  Call it a well-oiled machine or imaginative clockwork, these players on the field pulled off a thunderous make-over to the already beautiful game week in and week out. They entertained the galleries and added silverware to their cabinets too. The things that were going for them so greatly were the huge crop of talent both on the field and on the bench but that guiding light was without a shred of doubt the great ‘King’ Henry himself.

Last King of England!!!

Arsenal reached the pinnacle of their footballing supremacy when they were leading 1-0 during the UEFA Champions League Finals and suddenly with a few mistakes from the goalie everything just seemed to vanish into thin air. The departure of Henry was the last nail on the coffin and to this day the Gunners have been recuperating worse than a patient from an irrevocable coma. Years have come and gone, players have come and gone but the look of disappointment on Wenger’s face and fans’ hearts is here to stay. I still recollect this piece I had written on my blog called “Juvenile Delicacy” where I had argued amongst other things that Arsenal in 2008 started playing a wonderful style of football with greater efficacy without the compulsion of manufacturing moves for the experienced Henry as he had then decided to move away to Spain. I believed then that Henry’s move would act as a blessing in disguise by providing the freedom to Van Persie, Fabregas and Rosicky to express themselves a little more freely in footballing terms that is. What I had forgotten to understand was that the exuberance of youth is no good without the experience of the seasoned.

Crop of talent, come a cropper

Boyz II Men.. When?

Players like Walcott and Nasri really do produce some scintillating moves, runs and goals but I believe Arsenal fans have arrived at appoint where this delight of touch football is just not good enough, as they deserve much more. To many outsiders, cricket fanatics who read football in the papers, and teenage kids flaunting a spiked Mohican-like hair-do, Arsenal came closest to winning the League title this year than previous years. But only a true analyzer of the sport knows that this was probably their worst. I was witness to some the most heartless displays by the men from London during this season. An old adage ends something like this “When character is lost everything is lost”, and that is precisely what Arsenal lacks today, the strength to rise above its challenges. I remember that during the 2009-10 season they probably had the most number of comeback victories after trailing by a goal, however this time around they seem to be playing like amateurs who just cannot defend a lead. We are all sick and tired of hearing about how Arsenal is so delightful to watch and their wonderful passes just act like candy to the eye. Then when a team like Barcelona faces them, the Gunners are given the kitchen sink treatment.

The Plea of a fan

Ground Zero, All Towering players gone!!

Dear Mr. Arsene Wenger, this is my request to you and knowing you for the past decade, this is going to be like light hitting a wall. Please go out there and stop purchasing strikers with weird names and French connections. During the next transfer window, I would appreciate if you could make a few additions to strengthen the back four. Allow Mr. Cesc to be sold as nobody wants a player whose heart doesn’t beat for the Gunners. The boat of yours might be just fine with all its specifications, but just fix that rudder Sir. Our arsenal is loaded with toy guns, but what we need is real pistols if not canons and bazookas. Sir, I am sick of Man U fans shouting “In your Face”, so let us get our game phase on.  And finally if you still believe that this team of yours is young and fraught with talent and there is not a thing to worry, then I suggest you get yourself a broader Red Tie, so that you can at-least entirely cover your face in shame come the new season in 2011-12.

Lights, Camera, Action!!!!!

No sir we are not discussing the elective options available for a graduate student in a school of arts. These are the two paths that present themselves in front of every man who wants to walk ahead and not be left behind in a nebulous haze of oblivion. This world is not perfect my friends and you definitely do not need me to enlighten you on that, but I am here to tell that there are certainly a few shining needles strewn amongst an entire stack of rotten hay, if only one had the prudence to spot them and perseverance to emulate them.

The last week was witness to an encounter in the game of football which everybody likens to a real battle with arms and ammunition. The ‘El Classico’ was played between two top sides in world football that fight with similar hearts but very different tools. The match was ultimately won by a better side that has proudly cultivated the best player in the world. I watched the game in its entirety and being a supporter of FC Barcelona, there were times when my hands were covering my face and there were few more when my fists were punching the air. The media has covered every moment of this match and whether it is Messi’s great goals or Barcelona’s moral holes, they have all been commented and lamented upon. I wanted to bring something new onto the table because it was about time we stopped following the herd and made a point worthy of being heard.

Why is the media all of a sudden focused on the feigning tactics of Busquets and Alves when these two players have been always theatrical from the time we have all been watching the La Liga. Even otherwise simulation is an age-old technique followed by footballers the world over and it certainly was not invented by the Blaugrana.

Has the ref given the card yet?

Let us not be naive and start calling Barcelona ‘cheats’ after the game on Wednesday, because this is how the game is played today with players trying to influence the referee every second of the game.

Okay let me enlist a few incidents and you decide for yourself whether they are a part of this game or not. A player holding his lower part of the body and crying in pain after a tackle and then gets up within a minute and is all charged up for a sprint once the referee penalizes the opponent, a defender signaling to the referee that he went for the ball and not the opponent’s feet after a free kick was awarded, a defender straight away lifting up his hands after bringing

And the Oscar goes to…….

down a striker as if to say that the former did not even touch the latter, a goal keeper wasting precious time towards the end of the game before going in to kick the ball, a player purposefully placing the ball much closer towards the goal than it should be before taking the free kick, both the players claiming for a throw-in when both know who touched the ball out of bounds and so on and forth. Have we not seen all this week in and week out?

In this day and age of cut-throat competition it would be preposterous to traverse along the path of total righteousness, when another path of least

Leap of fake – I believe I can fly!!!!

resistance is proffered to you. I have been an individual who equates FC Barcelona to an institution like Harvard, but what they teach you at Harvard is what produces the best hedge fund managers in the world today, but would it be right to blame the institution if one of their products ended up getting entangled in fraud or swindling of investors’ wealth? This is the reason we have regulators in the field of finance and referees on the football pitch because the human nature lies in cheating and deceiving to obtain a desirable result. Yellow cards are being offered for simulation or diving in the penalty box these days and such measures have to be introduced for all kinds of Busquets-like acts. However I believe we are wasting our valuable sense of reason if we try to argue and try to cajole teams like Barcelona to play fair. I am sure we all are aware of the way the Australian cricket team used to play. Save a few greats like Adam Gilchrist, they all adopted negative and deceptive tactics and many a times their umpires have always been favorable to Australians (Remember the way Sachin Tendulkar in Australia was given out LBW, sorry Shoulder Before Wicket?). None of this matters though, because Australia won the world cup three consecutive times and was the best Test playing nation for more than a decade.

A Messi can rise above challenges and manufacture a stunning goal out of thin air like the other night because he does not have to resort to other

Is that the way to the Hall of Greatness?

methods like falling and diving. He chooses to become a part of history every time he sets foot on the pitch. Now as regards to all the other commoners or mere mortals a little deception is what gets them ahead and hence they choose histrionics. Let us glorify and cherish the former and bring in more disincentives for the latter and only then can we protect what is left of the beauty of this game.

There is a certain FIFA video game and it begins something like this “Game after Game after Game, I realized there is only one thing important in my life – Football”. This is exactly the pile of words that reverberate in resonance with my heartbeat. Oops, I actually promised a friend of mine that I would avoid such complex sentences and make the article funnier. Nowadays even commercials on the tube say things like “keep it simple silly”. So if I were to re-phrase the second sentence in this paragraph, football is the most important thing in my life. I know I am pretty safe as long as I can keep this article away from the eyes of my wife-to-be. Can I get a five from all guys out there who agree with me, but just can’t afford to say out such a thing in front of their wives?

A weekly fix of the 'beautiful game' is enough to bring millions to a standstill

I am a huge fan of Quentin Tarantino, not because it’s just cool to say things like this, but the guy’s ability to tell a story is truly enviable. Taking inspiration from the master craftsman, I am going to lay out his article in a chapter format. The content to follow is the greatest strengths, the weirdest moments, and the gravest errors that this game has thrown at me and taught me.

Chapter 1: Wafers and Apple Juice

No matter how much we travel and internalize the various cultures and tastes around us; we can never give up on some of our own principles, can we? So when the global accepted inventory before a game on TV would be a bucket of chicken and some ice cold beer, mine is a little more vegetarian and a little less intoxicating (by the way Apple juice in glass totally resembles a mug of beer). The way I get prepared before a game is something a surgeon ready to perform a complicated heart surgery would be envious of.

I start having these huge expectations before a game and they usually have been there for a week and start getting zany as the event approaches. Having grown up in India, one is always made to suffer from the numerous power cuts by our efficient electricity boards. If only our money managers could learn a little market timing from these engineers. Power never seems to black out during an episode of a family drama based soap, but happens exactly before the beginning of the game. But I have become mature now and from breaking glasses I just shout out the ‘F’ word a few times nowadays, and here F = Football is false.

Lesson for Life = Hope for the best and be prepared for the worst

Chapter 2: The jersey and my beating heart

A child’s mind is like a sponge where it absorbs everything it can, and this applies to the clubs and teams we support. I have been witness to many friends who are absolutely in awe of a player and they just start following him whichever club he moves to. When Berbatov got transferred from Tottenham to Manchester United these pals of mine changed their loyalty. This is something that irks me more than anything and I have been wearing the Arsenal jersey and it did not matter even when King Henry decided to get dethroned.  My team has not won silverware since ages, but that does not matter now does it? I am the first one to critique and I am also the first one to defend. I guess I am a one-team fan and a one-woman man.

Lesson for life: Change is good, but loyalty is better

Chapter 3: How to lose your friends in one season?

I have always been a sports nut or a football freak, but does that mean that I neglect my friends? Hell yeah!!!!! We all make our own choices and travel down our chosen paths, and if I offered you a choice between a friend who likes you and another who you adore, I am sure you are going to pick the latter. As the Joker would say “I am not a monster, I just am a little ahead of the curve”. I never miss matches because that is what keeps me going and I cannot make a plan in the evening or night because when BPL ends La Liga begins. And please while reading this don’t even think of suggesting me stuff like highlights and Tata Sky match recordings, because if don’t watch it live you better not be alive. However I have to admit that there have been occasions when I just could have adjusted a little and attended a friend’s birthday party.

Lesson for Life: A little sacrifice never hurt anybody

Chapter 4: The Half-time Hug and the Full-time winner

The game of football is played between nations and clubs and very often armchair analysts and fans question the commitment of the players when they play for their countries. I have never been a fan of these debates and anything that makes the game more beautiful, works for me. There have been many a moments where international team mates have altercations when they play for opposing clubs, there is one positive movement that stands out for me. This was the quarterfinals of the 2006 FIFA world cup between Brazil and France, and the latter was clearly dominating the proceedings led by the magic of Zizou. Then came halftime and this wonder-kid called Robinho who was on the bench goes up to Zizou, hugs him and congratulates him on an awesome display and Zizou accepts the praise with all smiles. Both the players were Real Madrid team mates then and the gravity of the match could do nothing to take away the respect they had for each other and the love they had for this beautiful game. The winner at full time was the game itself.

Lesson for life: Your profession is above all

Dropping heads – The story of English football

The media is one solid reason behind this mess as they swear by the dictum, ‘What you market is what sells’. The Barclays Premier League is one fine example of this mushrooming situation and I would like to pore into the hard truths of this. The hard core fanatics of the BPL should understand at this juncture that I am in now way belittling the quality of the league; nevertheless I do abhor the unjustified attention and praise it receives.

The English media unlike probably the Aussie counterpart is always looking relentlessly for that shining hero playing in England and hence constantly tries to elevate even the most pedestrian of performances and quality to immaculate levels. If one is an avid follower of cricket, one would be able to appreciate this argument and this applies to all the sports that the media in England, covers. The moment Graeme Hick and Andrew Flintoff started appearing in the cricketing spotlight they were proclaimed to be the next Donald Bradman and Ian Botham respectively. Football legends like George Best and Sir Bobby Charlton have truly made their genius worthy of all the hype and felicitation, but players like these come around only once in 50 years. It is cynical of the entire English media to believe that the BPL is the best league in the whole wide world year after year after year.

Galaxy of Quality – La Liga Extraordinaire

The quality I wholehearted admire is the loyalty of their media to all the English league players and it is only comparable to a mother’s unconditional love for her child irrespective of the ward’s blatant shortcomings. The media just about tries everything in their capacity to project and make a mountain out of a mole-hill, and there have been innumerable examples to justify this. But what really has caught my attention and thereby provokes that feeling of disgust most in me is the media’s rush to the lexicon to search for adjectives and alternatives during the times of disappointment by their so-called superstars. Cristiano Ronaldo in my opinion is a wonderful talent and has a tremendous goal-scoring ability. His physics-defying free kicks are a treat to the eye and the Red Devils’ stupendous form during 2006-07 and 2007-08 had a lot to do with the mesmerizing consistency and quality of the man. However this little genius called Messi comes by and takes the world by storm, and when the entire media calls him the ‘greatest player of this generation’, the English media now turns around and calls Ronaldo a more ‘complete’ player. At one point BPL was proclaimed to be producing the best quality of football and footballers, but with the passage of time, their European domination was becoming threadbare and as expected the English media now called the BPL, ‘toughest league on the planet‘.

I have been following the European leagues quite closely for a while now and have seen teams treated like schoolchildren time and again on the pitch by FC Barcelona and it only goes to show the level at which some of the English clubs actually play.

How many times have we seen children supporting Manchester United?  I am quite confident that 90% of these kids would not be exposed to some of the better quality of football. Just before the 2010 FIFA World Cup began, there was a kid in my housing complex who wanted to know who my favorite team was. When I passionately said Argentina, I was shocked to hear that his team was England and that Tevez was the best in Argentina. I clearly understood that the ignorance of the kid was because he was exposed to too much of BPL and hence he knew only English players, and Tevez played for Manchester United and is currently a part of their city rivals. I believe that Tevez is an outstanding and industrious player and England does have some serious talent like Rooney, Gerrard, Terry, Walcott and Joe Hart but to portray them as the best in the world is a little over the top.

The sooner the public and the media acclimatizes themselves to this truth, the smaller will be the pain and ignominy when England and their clubs under-perform at the highest stage.

The cup of life

I was a six year old when Diego Maradona single-handedly carried Argentina into the path of glory in Mexico City, but I hardly was aware of that till May 1990 when I started getting my hands on these colorful magazines building up to the Italia 1990. Instantly I fell in love with the white and light blue of Argentina and began to idolize this master and ruffian called Maradona. Soon enough my room was getting plastered with these posters of the number 10’s moves and moods. I could feel the metamorphosis that was transpiring and I was a growing into a football fanatic with an irrepressible fervor for Argentina. But things have not been especially memorable and my journey from 1990 till the last world cup in 2010 has been anything but a joyride.

1990: Not an Italian Job

The opening match of the 1990 world cup was between the defending champions and this flamboyant African team from Cameroon. Maradona was never looking like the player I had read about, and was pushed and shoved whenever he got a touch on the ball. Then came the moment when Cameroon took the lead and my first ever game supporting the Albiceleste ended up in tears and tatters. But as the tournament progressed Argentina performed a little better and then came the all important dream match between the two Latin American giants. Brazil was definitely the favorite and I very well remember that I and my uncle were engrossed in every moment of the game in spite of the grains and the disturbances that kept appearing intermittently on our old Solidaire black & white television. The match was heading towards a draw with Brazil dominating possession, and then we were witness to this magical moment when Maradona made a sublime pass after being rushed in by 3 defenders and Clauddio Cannigia did the rest to see the ball at the back of the net. Even for a 10 year old I shouted so boisterously that it brought all my relatives from the terrace down to the drawing room.

When we paid the penalty

They progressed further but the semifinal was a drab match which Argentina won on penalties and Maradona scored the only goal of the world cup. Most of the matches were telecast so late in the night in India and for some vague reason that I do not recollect, I retired to bed without watching the final which was a repeat of the 1986 final. The next morning I woke up to open the last page of the ‘The Hindu’ newspaper to find that Argentina was handed out a defeat by an Andres Brehme penalty and I had gone on to curse the referee for the next one month forward. The tragedy of that day had a huge bearing and I developed a particular mannerism which still is glued on to me like a leech looking for blood. Ever since that day somehow I always view the last page of any newspaper or magazine first. Time and Gabriela Sabatini were the healers after she avenged the world cup defeat by beating the German Steffi Graf at the US open final about a month later. Though Argentina made it to the final and lost by a meager margin, I still believe this was the worst ever Albiceleste team to book a place in Quadrennial tourney and they just didn’t deserve to win.

1994: The American Dream and the Argentine Drug

4 years passed on and I was now a 14 year old with a semblance of a moustache and the world cup fever was just beginning to heighten in intensity. This time it was the turn of the United States to host the world cup. Maradona was still in the squad, but the expectations were heaping around this brilliant striker called Gabriel Batistuta, who had a penchant for scoring goals at the highest stage. This time the world cup was telecast very early in the morning and in their match against Greece, Batistuta notched up a scintillating hat-trick. But the highlight of the match was that famous left foot of Maradona driving the ball past the goal line, and the impish genius howling and running directly towards the cameras. It was a sight I had been waiting to observe for many years.

Romania hurt my mania

Argentina qualified comfortably for the knock-out stage, and was all set to face the mighty Romanians in the second round. I woke up in the morning, wore my favorite jersey, and performed a few prayers and offerings to the almighty before switching on my BPL color television set. To my total befuddlement, Maradona was missing from the line-up and it was again ‘The Hindu’ newspaper that I turned to. This time it was another shocking headline which read ‘Fifa slaps ban on Maradona’ and it was because of a banned drug he had consumed, and all I remember from that match was that Romania defeated my team and Maradona was a mere spectator from the stands.

1998:  French-toasted

When the year 1998 arrived, I was going through the most crucial epoch of my life with my twelfth grade board exams and professional admission exams imminent. My parents would not be amused by what I am going to reveal, but the truth is that a greater part of my cerebral space was consumed in the expectations of the 1998 world cup to be staged in France than the examinations that were to be staged inside a gloomy and tense classroom. This time around it was the ‘el burrito’ that was at the tip of everybody’s tongue. So much of hype had been built around this diminutive midfielder; And Ariel Ortega was living truly to fulfill these expectations. The duel that still reverberates in my mind is the one between old foes of the ‘Falkland Isle war’. England was fielding a very strong team and it was this teenage wonder called Michael Owen who was making all the headlines during the curtain-raisers. This was one of those games which would have perfectly fit the description of a ‘roller-coaster’ ride. The game had everything, a couple of early penalties, a moment of individual brilliance from Owen, an inventive free-kick from the Argentines, and a sending off of David Beckham.  It was quite late in the night now, and this was when I decided to turn down the volume and watch the television in darkness so that my family could get some rest. The moment arrived when Sol Campbell headed the ball into the net and the score was 3-2 in favor of England, and I was simmering in anger, and crying in pain staring at yet another exit from the world cup for my favorite team. Those were the days when telecasting was poor and the score was not displayed on the screen. As the regulation time ended, I realized that the goal by Campbell was disallowed. The emotional freak-show that followed scared the living daylights off my family and we all saw Argentina meander their way into the quarterfinals through penalties.

Dennis the Menace

The joy of triumph lasted just a few more days as the Flying Dutchman Dennis Bergkamp ended Argentina’s march with the one of the most skillful goals I have ever seen. The tears kept rolling down my cheek and I hope my future wife can read this and understand that at times even real men cry.

2002: Lost in Transmission

The new millennium was here, and Asia was hosting the football world cup for the first time. I was an engineer now, and I wish I could reverse-engineer the entire period from June-July 2002. This was the world-cup I have least memory of, thanks to the entry of a sports channel who earned all the rights of telecast and none of the cable operators but one in Chennai were showing this particular channel. After cajoling my father, I could some how get to him to drive me to a friend’s house an hour away for the England-Argentina encounter.

I need a New Jersey – This is for old times

This time David Beckham took the perfect revenge by scoring from the spot and then he celebrated at the corner flag by pulling down his jersey with a grimace on his face that said it all. At about the same time but on a different time zone, I pulled down my jersey too in utter disgust. The second half was marked by near perfect possession by Pablo Aimar and Co. and the Albiceleste were extremely unlucky not to score. To quote Forrest Gump “That is all I have to say about that” as I did not get to see even a second more of that world cup and Argentina failed to qualify for the knock-out stage.

2006: The Bad Germans

I had shifted base to the US where I completed my graduation in electrical engineering from North Carolina. These two years were very rough as America provides almost no avenues to witness and cherish ‘the Beautiful game’. There used be an ESPN 2 which telecast European club football, but as students we didn’t know many people around who could access these channels. Nevertheless the zeal for the game never abated. I returned to India and after a few rough months in the electrical engineering field, decided to move to the ‘Maximum City’ Mumbai. The 2006 FIFA World Cup now was being played in Deutschland and a few of my friends had planned for a weekend trip to some resort in Alibaug. The first question that sprang up in my mind was, ‘Would there cable TV down at the resort?’ but as they always say, when in doubt, avoid. I girded up my loins with the usual pizza and cola and was all set to watch Argentina play against the Serbia & Montenegro side. The South Americans pulverized and dismantled the weaker side and probably the ignominy of the defeat was also behind the disintegration of the country into two parts later on. Juan Roman Riquelme was passing balls like he was being defended by matchstick men and he played with a swagger of a Roman Emperor. The boyish looking Messi who came in as a substitute managed to score and displayed some scintillating skills against the Netherlands.

Heading Klose-r to exit

As the knockout stage arrived I made up my mind to watch the riveting action with my folks back in Chennai. The Round of 16 against the Central Americans was hotly contested and with just a little time left and Mexico still level, Maxi Rodriguez belted a screaming left-footer (which very much resembled a Joe Cole goal earlier in the tournament) and took Argentina into the Quarterfinal stage. A few days later we were out of the world cup again. Now I’ll tell you why we all hate the Germans, because they just hit back hard at you without a semblance of quitting. Miroslav Klose closed out the doors of hope for me and I could feel the gut-wrenching pain that spoke into my ears saying ‘4 years’ like that creepy voice telling ‘7 days’ in ‘The Ring’.

2010: TIA – This is Africa and This Irritates Again

I turned 30 and this is supposed to be an age when people do a reality check and look back at their accomplishments. I was making my own list of hits and misses and regrets, and one definite item on that roster was not being able to see Argentina lift the world cup. But I was very hopeful that this world cup in the Rainbow Nation in Africa was going to be ours simply because we had the greatest footballer of our generation, Lionel Messi. Many armchair analysts could come up with their analysis of how he was a flop as he did not appear on the score sheet, but the true football enthusiast understands that if there was one guy who looked like scoring the most goals, it was ‘La Pulga’. All said and done things were progressing according to plan with the two greatest players the world has ever seen both on Argentina’s think tank.

I'll be back, Trust me !!

I personally believe Messi would have done way better had he played in one of those free-floating positions but the journey once again ended sadly at the quarter-final stage. I only realized one thing after the loss – I had grown up and there certainly was no salty discharge along the side of my eyes. It was definitely painful as it was déjà vu for me since we beat the Mexicans and lost to the Germans just like 4 years ago and it also all happened when I was watching these games from Chennai. Mom, Dad and my favorite sister forgive me, but I am definitely not coming home during the 2014 June.

All these years I have waited and prayed and the wishes have all gone unanswered. I have matured and grown over the last 2 decades but the desire has only multiplied like a cancerous cell. My time will come in 2014 and I am not ready to pay a requiem for this dream yet. Vamos Argentina!!! Vamos Messi!!

The cup for 'Our'gentina