It is a Goal!

Would you believe if I told you that once upon a time I played hockey at sub-junior level. I would not believe it myself. It was summer and I was nine years old, used to rush our way to the then Mayor Radha Krishnan Hockey Stadium in Egmore at early hours of the day. We practiced along the seniors with the sub-junior group, there was also a woman team practicing away from us, alongside. And there would different men to coach each team, and sad than I don’t even remember the name of my trainer, but I remember that he was a very old man, a veteran at the game.

We begun at around 5.30 in the morning and continued for roughly two hours every day. We always started our day with a prayer in Tamil, thanking and asking god to give us the strength to play well and wise and we finished our day in prayer too. Every day any one from the group could lead in prayer and the rest of the group would just follow.

It was a great way to start the practice, I thought, somehow used to enjoy them despite the fact that it was the same words that we repeated every day in prayer. As the group would huddle to form a circle and the one leading the prayer would stand at the centre. With the face of the stick on the ground we bend over as if getting ready to scoop a hockey ball we begin to pray. This is followed by the warming exercises like running around the ground. Stretching, push ups etc. Imagine two feeble hands of nine some fifty to hundred push-ups. Normally push-ups were used as punishments for drinking water during the training hours; they would grant us breaks during which water drinking was not a punishable activity. Imagine hundred push-ups, phew, well I could die of thirst!

After warming up were the rigorous practising session and by this time the mild morning sun is growing steadily in vigour as we dribbled, tribbled, scooped and hit the ball with our sticks. Well I was a sub-junior and had a junior Punjab tiger stick, was not one of the best sticks but was good enough for the summer camp and was even better enough for me. However the most admired and coveted were a “Vampire” or a “Vaijayanthi” those times, like you can show them off when you carry one of those shining and curvy piece of beauty. One kid even had an exotic “Karachi King”.

Well I dreamt of owning a Vampire some day, well I could buy one myself now but if I will be able to play with it is a different question for discussion altogether. After all the years of being inert to hockey, I can barely hold the stick in position properly, hockey is yet another trade which I seemed to have learnt and forgotten blissfully over time. Time makes me forget hehe.

Well back to the chak de vani story: after the practice we broke around seven thirty for a cup of hot milk and raw egg and of course not without a piece of the trainer’s brain. Well I vividly and only remember the leading trainer, was a well built, dark gentlemen. I even remember his name. His name was Sampath and we called him “Sampath Sir”. Raw eggs was not one of the best tasting snack with milk but was for all the protein an egg could offer. When the day was called off we normally don’t go home immediately as other normal children would. Well we had our own extended routine. As I practiced hockey my brother used to come to watch over the practice, and after the session I normally take my brothers cycle and ride around the stadium where tennis was practiced (Mayor Radhakrishnan Stadium then was not as sophisticated as it now is, now it has a international turf and a well built stadium to cater for international games but earlier is was an uneven-mud turf surrounded by a small amphitheatre like structure to hold the audience fit for local matches only. The Stadium also housed a basketball court and a tennis court, I am not aware if they are still a part of the stadium today) and as a beginner I had starting trouble with an adult cycle. (I know you are wondering if a bicycle could have starting trouble well it could if I were the one riding it.)

The cycling affair of mine gave my brother just enough time to catch up with Deepa. Now don’t ask me who is Deepa, all that I could remember of Deepa is that she was a smart and a good looking girl and a daughter of a veterinary doctor and that is it. She used to practice tennis the same time I practiced hockey in the adjoining tennis court. Well that explains why my brother religiously used to come to watch me practising hockey every day, well, well, different people had different reasons to be at the Radhakrishnan Stadium, so maybe we should add bird watching too in the activity list of the then Radhakrishnan Stadium, ahem, ahem, whatever.....

And after “everything” was done, my brother, my cousins and me carelessly stroll back home and on the way we never fail to stop at kiosk which sells delicious lassi besides various other things. This actually is one of my most favourite part of the routine as I looked forward to it every day on our way back.

Why this narrative of a bygone childhood moment is being done now and what brought the delightful retrospection on to the paper? It was a match in Navneeth’s unit, a inter unit match between 17 Bihar and a 14 Sikh Lights. The game had a flamboyant army start; loud cries of adoration and cheering filled the arena. The Sikh unit went off with their traditional war cry “Jo Bhole So Nihal, Sat Sri Akal” and the Bihar unit did well with their “Jai Bajrang Bali”!

The Sikh team started off well and were looking aggressive the first fifteen minutes while the Bihar team played defensive and around the 20th minute there was a goal from the Bihar team. And then there was a quick second goal from the Bihar team, I felt that that moment of climax which kind of paved way to Bihar’s success because it kind of “diminished” the hope of the opponent and “added” pressure on them (it is all Math you see!).

And then forward there was not a moment of hitch from the men of Bihar, not to forget their neat passes and a fine co-ordination and their ability to snitch the ball from the opponent and subsequently to convert them into a goal. Unfortunately the Sikh team couldn’t capitalise on the few penalty shots that they had. Well played, as the Bihar team closed it off with an assertive 7,0 ; it was Bihar all the way!

A great episode of a brilliant match and lovesome memories a perfect mixture for a blog, I guess. And please allow me to finish with the same spirit the match was closed with: “Bharat Mata Ki, Jai !”.