Neymar Da

Neymar just moved from FC Barcelona to PSG for a whopping $222m Euros. Messi has stuck to his tiki taka club and so has Christiano Ronaldo. Undoubtedly the three would rank among the best footballers of our times. They play brilliant soccer mixing skill and speed which mesmerises opponents across the globe. No one doubts their talent but then surely in their minds one thing must be troubling them…they’ve never won the greatest trophy in the world…the FIFA World Cup.

It was the summer of 83 when two friends were sitting on the green grass of Hindu College in Delhi watching a friendly football match against St. Stephens College. Nothing between the two colleges across the street could ever be friendly like the Ashes….no no that’s not a good example but maybe comparable to Indo-Pak contests where none wanted to lose and victory catapulted the victors to a higher plane and losers were rubbished into the dustbin of history.

The two had bunked class to watch the match as they were upset with the education system in general and their own performance in the first year of college. They had worked hard throughout the previous year going from one library to another. Sometimes it was the college library at other times it was the Central Secretariat Library and then at times even the Indian Council for Historical Research Library where they compiled notes after notes on subjects in Ancient Indian History and Chinese History. They were determined to do well in academics and sports and other distractions were put in the back burner. These notes they read, the thick books they scanned made them feel well prepared for the exams. When the examiner handed over the question paper, the two were overjoyed….they knew all the answers as as they had done their research extensively. As the time started, the pen was raised but after a couple of lines they realised they did not know where to start and where to end. Soon the easy question paper became difficult as structuring an answer with too much information and time limitation led to them just about passing the exams with the narrowest of margins. At Delhi University only those with standard set tutorials passed over the ages, mugged up well and vomited on the answer sheet verbatim was the route to success. Hard work, research and too much information was a bane.

The match progressed and St. Stephens put up an aggressive and fast paced performance and in the end defeated Hindu in their own college grounds two goals to nil.  Seeing the plight of their own college team the two budding historians decided that they will play rather than waste time on books, try to get selected for the college football team. So the very next day the two idiots landed in their soccer gear where the team was warming up. They went to the coach Mr. O.P. Datta to ask if they could also practice with the team and try for selection. He readily agreed and so the two set about showcasing their skills. While Ranjeev played as a goalkeeper, the other fellow who all called Dada took to left wing position as a forward. Within a couple of days, the coach was convinced of their abilities and gave them a couple of breaks in a few friendlies. The real test came within ten days of becoming regulars in the squad, a re-match with St. Stephens. By the time the match ended the college erupted in celebrations and students were talking of a Dada,as most Bengalis are addressed, who almost won the match single handedly with his one goal and two good passes both of which were converted. Stephens was thrashed 3 nil, the revenge was complete and a hero was born.

From then on began a journey which lasted four years through graduation and post-graduation where Dada’s day would start by packing the football gear into the small bag and taking the 7.20 am U Special, landing on the ground by 8.30 am, practising till noon, going to the cafeteria for the well-earned snacks coupon that entitled you to an omelette with 4 to 6 eggs, bun and cold drinks. Bread pakoras, desi alu burgers and chai were other options. If you are wondering what happened to History classes? Those had become history, for playing in the college eleven meant attendance was never a problem. The two were never seen in class and at times they made their guest appearance, they ensured the lecturer would throw them out on grounds of disrupting and distracting the class. But that did not deter the Two Idiots from pursuing their life’s passion of playing the joga bonito or the beautiful game.

Moving fast forward, it was November of 88. Dada had hung up his boots and joined the financial sector at Kolkata. He had come to Delhi from his work place at Kolkata to give the Civil Services Mains examinations. He had a couple of days to prepare when a post card popped up and rattled him up….the current captain of Hindu College football team, Pankaj, had sent a hand written invitation for the Inter-College Finals to be held at Chahatrasal Stadium between Hindu and PGDAV College. It was a wonderful piece of news but why did Dada get disturbed? Pankaj was a junior in the team when he was at his peak leading the college team to many a victory. They had won championships at BITS Pilani, IIT Delhi, International Cup, Delhi Soccer League and many more. They not only won but Dada had a considerable impact on the results as the main scorer-scored after dribbling many a defender, scored from free kicks, corner kicks and cracking unstoppable headers. He was often a marked man and was chopped down by rival defenders but Dada still managed to score and win. Winning Man of the Match and Best Player awards was a regular feature.

The post card had, however, brought back many a happy memory but also the memory of a day when Dada played the last match in college colours. It was the semi-finals of the Inter College Championship in 1987 and Hindu College was looking like a champion side winning all the league matches and quarter finals easily. Plus they had beaten their semi-final rivals, SRCC, in a few friendlies earlier. The match got its importance from the fact that they had never reached the finals and the man who had built up the team being its main player had one more chance to score in an inter-college match. For four long years he had played magnificently for the college winning accolades and trophies but scoring in an inter college match had eluded him. He came close many times, many a time the ball hit the cross piece and at times the goal keeper made brilliant saves and then there were times when he missed sitters. He felt the team had not won the championship only because he hadn’t scored ever in the three preceding years. This was his chance to redeem himself and give back to the college the only missing trophy in its coffers.

Dada reached the football ground at Civil Lines well before the other team members arrived. He walked around the field from goal post to another, saying a small prayer at each end. He was tense as sleep had eluded him that night for being a failure was not acceptable to him. He was determined to set history right today. If he scored today, his team would be in the finals and that would be a great way to end his soccer career at the college. Slowly the others came and so did the crowds. The coach called Dada aside and told him,” Beta khul ke khel. Goal hoga aur tu karega aaj. Hum jitenge aur jashn manayegey (Son, play freely without any pressure. Today you will score and we will win and celebrate).” Dada nodded and went about getting ready for the match. He slipped into his stockings and laced up the boots and prayed one more time as he wore the college jersey. He always wore number 7 on his back not the usual number 10 which was made famous by Pele and thereafter adorned by the best players in every team since then.

The match began and both teams played a rough game with one player after another coming almost to arms to be separated by the referee. Dada, however, was running hard and passing the ball well. SRCC had put a stout but speedy player to mark Dada and every time he got the ball, the maker would aim a kick at Dada’s legs. Everyone knew Dada never wore a shin guard and was most vulnerable to the studs hitting there and getting injured before being substituted to the relief of the opponents. But Dada lived dangerously and hardly ever got injured in a game. But today was different. The other person was not interested in playing football but was intent on playing more of kabaddi where he would pull the jersey, shorts, push, shove and often aim his step on the shin. The first half ended in a dull draw and at lemon break Mr. Datta told the boys to play their own game and not get into fights on the ground. “Hold the ball and find gaps and then pass the ball to Dada, Chander and Inder in front and they will score.”

The second half began and Hindu suddenly looked a different team playing good passing football with Munish in the midfield at the heart of the game. But Dada was still unable to break the stranglehold of the marker who in one tackle kicked him from behind. The usual cool Dada went wild and ran back to confront the marker while abusing him in the choicest of expletives. The referee was quick to put his hand in the top pocket and showed Dada a yellow card. Dada was now under even greater pressure as time was ticking away and one more card meant his being thrown out of the ground by the referee, a most dishonourable way of ending a glorious career. Just when everything looked lost, a beautiful lob into the box came his way….he was no more than six feet away from the goal and a gentle nod with his head would have put the ball into the net. Dada wouldn’t take a  chance and he bent his back and with the greatest of force his neck could generate headed the ball as hard as anyone could….the ball zoomed past the  last defender and caught the goalkeeper stranded….thud…as it hit the side post and went out for a goal kick. The golden opportunity was lost and SRCC scored the very next minute in a one off move killing the game. Hindu played the game with the other losing semi-finalist and won the third place. Dada did not take to the field that day.

Dada kept Pankaj’s invitation post card with him and saw it many times during the day. He even got ready to go to witness the college finals that he himself never got to play but then stayed back for he thought and was convinced he was the bad omen for the team. Despite being the best team in all the four years he played, the team never reached the finals and today was the big day for Pankaj, Munish and others. He would not let his dark shadow bring ill luck to his team he loved. He stayed home and next morning he ran to pick up the newspaper thrown at the balcony of his house and opened the sports page. In one corner he saw, “Hindu College Wins Inter-College Football”. Dada shed tears of joy as he hid his sobbing face behind the paper. The college had won, the game had won….his boys had won but not him….the pain remained forever.

Today, Pankaj, the victorious Captain of the team, is now a Brigadier in the Indian Army. Munish, the midfielder, is a successful businessman. Brothers Chander and Inder, striking partners of Dada, are doing what they always loved, training youngsters as coaches of their respective colleges. Incidentally Chander is the sports in-charge at Hindu College itself. Ranjeev, the goalie, joined the Indian Army, was at one time deputed for a while to the Indian Navy to fly choppers (Army, Navy & Air Force all at the same time) and is now a pilot with a private airlines. Dada works at Mumbai. He is a happy man most of the times except when he gets reminded of his biggest failure in life especially when it mattered the most, for a game he loved the most. It will be something that he will take to his grave with the epitaph on his tombstone reading:

“Here lies the Man who Played Well But Could Never Score.”

SS