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Chelsea needed to win this to ensure qualification and given their recent home form, it would not have been surprising if they had spent the last few days wishing this was an away tie. In the end the Blues finally won again at home, but it wasn’t easy and Chelsea are still far far from their best at home.
First Half
Nothing much happened for the first twenty minutes or so, with Chelsea lacking any real rhythm and Cluj making sporadic forward runs with little effect. Then Chelsea (minus Frank Lampard) settled down and started keeping possession of the ball. Mikel was instrumental in controlling play and they passed it around rather well, always falling flat when the ball reached the opposition box.
Defensively they were not tested too much. Bosingwa, a good player prone to a lapse per game, lost the ball dangerously once and then a moment of communication breakdown between Ashley Cole and Bosingwa (I think) led to a dangerous cross from wide right from the Argentine Culio which led to a bad decision from Cech which needed a goal-line clearance from Mikel before Chelsea could breathe again. Pereira was allowed to shoot speculatively a couple of times and I say allowed because the Chelsea back line tended to stay deep without looking to close down the Cluj attackers.
Cluj were efficient and always in position, allowing Chelsea to pass but not penetrate. They had a defensive approach but were not averse to attacking and they build their attacks down the flanks by playing in neat triangles involving three players.
Kalou, got the Chelsea opener but he should thank John Terry for it. Three Cluj defenders jumped on Terry while trying to defend a lobbed free kick from the right and in doing so let the ball drop to an unmarked Kalou. In true Kalou style, he swung at it and missed but the ball dropped favorably and he had enough time and little difficulty in sending the second effort to the back of the net.
And that really was all there was to talk about in the first half. None of the Chelsea players could have been given high ratings and it was typical of their last umpteen home performances – good play with little impact. Lampard was missed, especially when half chances to shoot were not being taken, but most importantly, they seemed to have surplus resources in midfield. The situation was crying out for a 4-4-2.
Second Half
Chelsea came out and played some beautiful football. They would have got something from it too, but for Claro in the Cluj goal who stopped a bullet from Anelka. And then against the tide, in the blink of an eye Cluj equalized. It was a brilliant goal. Quick passing and movement to leave the left back reeling and a brilliant cross finished equally brilliantly leaving Cech with no chance. Maybe Alex could be blamed for not dealing with the cross, but then it was placed perfectly and there’s only so much that even a well-paid defender can do.
Stunned, Chelsea laid the siege again and again they lost to Claro, who saved brilliantly when Joe Cole seemed certain to finish. Scolari waited 65 minutes before going 4-4-2. My pick for player to be substituted would have been Ballack, who was the least impressive on the night, but out went Kalou and in came Didier Drogba.
Immediately Chelsea looked more threatening and they started using route one to get the ball into the opposition ox, but we know all that… that is exactly what Drogba does. But it was his finish which drilled home the point that he is a superstar in this team of superstars. So many times in the evening we had seen players take that fraction of a second longer to get into position and the moment to score had passed. I’m dropping names like Deco, Ballack, Joe Cole, Anelka etc. who all could have scored had they the speed of lightning. But they didn’t and that takes nothing away from them.
But then Mikel found Joe Cole in some space who lobbed it to Drogba who was charging towards goal. Before you knew it the ball was in the back of the net. In no time at all, the guy trapped the ball had it neatly on his feet and drilled a power shot before anyone could say whoa!
Final Whistle
Cluj bow out with heads held high and players on display. Claro, Panin, Trica, Dani, Culio, Pereira and the goal scorer Yssouf Kone all succeeded in creating an impression. For Chelsea it was job done and relief but life will not get any easier for Scolari.
Anelka is a class act but even he is no Drogba. And with Lampard back in contention and after some time Essien as well, he will have a tough time keeping everyone happy.
Personally I would like to see them play with two strikers (4-4-2). Essien, Deco, Ballack and Lampard present themselves as the obvious midfield but this would mean sacrificing width. Then again Joe Cole is too good to be sitting on the bench for long and ditto Mikel (what a performance he gave last night). It’s not easy being Scolari. The paycheck would be helpful of course!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Arsenal v Wigan, December 6, Premier League
Last year for the same fixture, I happened to be at the Emirates. I sat with my friends Joshi (Arsenal supporter) and Madhur in the Wigan stand as no other tickets to be found. Joshi in fact, was walking right into the stand with an Arsenal jersey on his back, but was thankfully warned by a steward. Not surprisingly most of the away stand happened to b
e filled by people like us and there were only a handful of passionate Wigan fans.
Looking across the stadium, it was evident that the percentage of die-hard Gooners in the crowd was no better. Barring one stand, which was on some other side of the massive stadium, the rest was strangely subdued. I don’t happen to be any kind of expert in stadia atmosphere, but it was evident that for a 60,000 odd-seater packed to capacity, there was very little lung power going around. Most spectators (with self guilty as accusing) were more interested in taking pictures and feeling good, rather than being ‘one’ with the game.
For the record, that one ended two-nil with two late Arsenal goals sinking a resilient Wigan.
In terms of the game itself, it was a little similar and somewhat different to the affair from the last season. This time it ended 1-0 for the hosts with Adebayor scoring a first half winner and Wigan again putting up a plucky show.
In terms of the crowd, it’s gotten much worse over the last twelve months. Much, much worse. Other stuff happened in the game as well, but Eboue being booed off the ground by his own fans has to be one of the worst cases of home-support I have witnessed – in person or on a television.
Nasri’s injury saw Eboue being brought on as left winger. The
man was himself making a comeback from a long spell out injured, and then was put on to play in a position that he is not used to. For sure Wenger knew what he was doing, but then it wasn’t exactly a shocker to see Eboue have a shocker! As the game ended his performance turned from shocking to pathetic to hilarious and by then it was obvious that he had no confidence remaining. Taking him off seemed to be a wise thing to do and that’s what Wenger did.
None of it warranted the booing. This wasn’t a pathetic team performance that demanded a show of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t a guy who had publicly let the club down. At the best of times, Eboue has not been much loved by Arsenal fans but approaching this game, there had been nothing from him that should have made him a target for the fans. If anything, with the team leading and a player clearly out of confidence, a small cheer would have helped him a great deal.
I try and visualize the stadium and I can’t put a finger on the stand which could have produced such a distinct sound in a stadium where anything more than a din seemed difficult to raise. Were the tourists, there for the first (and maybe only) time taking a break from watching others in amusement and taking pictures to realize that Eboue was being substituted and he had been shite? Were the prawn-sandwhich brigade involved enough to know or care?
I keep getting the feeling that it could have been neither. It is quite likely the new-age Arsenal fan, a regular follower of the team who knows his football but who does not know how to be a supporter. One who is fed by today’s media and sees his (and indeed her) football in black and white like newsprint. The old English football fans are a commendable species and Emirates has clearly put up the endangered sign for them.
Other things: Fabregas had a beauty, Arsenal are still scoring one out five that they should have and Emile Heskey is the best target man but the worst goal-scorer.
e filled by people like us and there were only a handful of passionate Wigan fans.Looking across the stadium, it was evident that the percentage of die-hard Gooners in the crowd was no better. Barring one stand, which was on some other side of the massive stadium, the rest was strangely subdued. I don’t happen to be any kind of expert in stadia atmosphere, but it was evident that for a 60,000 odd-seater packed to capacity, there was very little lung power going around. Most spectators (with self guilty as accusing) were more interested in taking pictures and feeling good, rather than being ‘one’ with the game.
For the record, that one ended two-nil with two late Arsenal goals sinking a resilient Wigan.
In terms of the game itself, it was a little similar and somewhat different to the affair from the last season. This time it ended 1-0 for the hosts with Adebayor scoring a first half winner and Wigan again putting up a plucky show.
In terms of the crowd, it’s gotten much worse over the last twelve months. Much, much worse. Other stuff happened in the game as well, but Eboue being booed off the ground by his own fans has to be one of the worst cases of home-support I have witnessed – in person or on a television.
Nasri’s injury saw Eboue being brought on as left winger. The
man was himself making a comeback from a long spell out injured, and then was put on to play in a position that he is not used to. For sure Wenger knew what he was doing, but then it wasn’t exactly a shocker to see Eboue have a shocker! As the game ended his performance turned from shocking to pathetic to hilarious and by then it was obvious that he had no confidence remaining. Taking him off seemed to be a wise thing to do and that’s what Wenger did.None of it warranted the booing. This wasn’t a pathetic team performance that demanded a show of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t a guy who had publicly let the club down. At the best of times, Eboue has not been much loved by Arsenal fans but approaching this game, there had been nothing from him that should have made him a target for the fans. If anything, with the team leading and a player clearly out of confidence, a small cheer would have helped him a great deal.
I try and visualize the stadium and I can’t put a finger on the stand which could have produced such a distinct sound in a stadium where anything more than a din seemed difficult to raise. Were the tourists, there for the first (and maybe only) time taking a break from watching others in amusement and taking pictures to realize that Eboue was being substituted and he had been shite? Were the prawn-sandwhich brigade involved enough to know or care?
I keep getting the feeling that it could have been neither. It is quite likely the new-age Arsenal fan, a regular follower of the team who knows his football but who does not know how to be a supporter. One who is fed by today’s media and sees his (and indeed her) football in black and white like newsprint. The old English football fans are a commendable species and Emirates has clearly put up the endangered sign for them.
Other things: Fabregas had a beauty, Arsenal are still scoring one out five that they should have and Emile Heskey is the best target man but the worst goal-scorer.
Homeless World Champions Head Home to Afghanistan
Lately I have often wondered about how the sports industry can give people a reason to play. Well: here’s an example. The Homeless World Cup that just concluded its sixth edition in Melbourne gives people a better life through playing and is an outstanding effort in the field of changing lives.
World Cup 2008
Fifty-six countries (including India) participated in Melbourne and the team from war-torn Afghanistan emerged as the Men’s Champions thereby emerging as the first non-European champions. The Women’s Championship, instituted for the first time was won by Zambia.
More than 500 players and coaches attended the event and as they return to their native lands (but not their homes), many will hopefully see better lives and better opportunities for having been world cup participants.
Who are the World cuppers?
This is quoted from the tournament’s website and lists the eligibility criteria for participants of this year’s event:
The Story Behind the World Cup
The story of the Homeless World Cup is the story of Mel Young and Harald Schmied. The following excerpt is taken from Mel Young’s profile on www.changemakers.net. (http://www.changemakers.net/en-us/user/9124/view)
Mel Young, 53, is recognised as one of the world’s leading social entrepreneurs by the Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship.
In 1993 he co-founded The Big Issue in Scotland, with Tricia Hughes. The weekly magazine is sold by homeless people in the streets of Scotland and now has a circulation of 40,000. With the success of The Big Issue in Scotland, he helped set up the International Network of Street Papers, a global network of over sixty street papers sold in every continent, of which he is Honorary President. The combined annual circulation of these papers is over 30 million helping 100,000 homeless or long-term unemployed people throughout the world every year.
It was in Cape Town, at the end of the 2001 INSP conference, that Mel and Austrian born Harald Schmied attempted to invent an international language to enable homeless people to communicate with each other around the world. When they realised one already existed – football – the Homeless World Cup was born. The first tournament was held in Austria in 2003 with 18 teams attending from around the world. This was followed by Sweden 2004, Edinburgh 2005, Cape Town 2006 and was staged in Copenhagen in July 2007 with 48 teams taking part.
The Impact
According to stats collected by the people behind the show, 77% of all participants see a positive change in their lives. According to a write-up on FIFA.com:
Post event research, done six months after the Edinburgh tournament, showed that, of 217 homeless competitors, 38% were in regular employment, 40% had improved their housing situation, and only 18% were still selling street papers. And a whopping 94% declared that they had 'a new motivation for life.'
Moreover, the Homeless World Cup has led to grassroots football programmes in over sixty countries with over 30,000 homeless people involved.
The Indian Chapter
Prof. Vijay Barse from Nagpur has driven slum football in India and got his inspiration watching some slum dwellers kick a bucket as a football one rainy afternoon. As founder of the Krida Vikas Manch he began by organizing slum football tournaments for Nagpur dwellers. The scale of his efforts grew significantly over the years and now Vijay is responsible for the Indian team’s presence in the World Cup. For the record, India is ranked 45th out of 48 countries in the Homeless Football World Rankings.
Closing Thoughts
The success and growth of the Homeless World Cup is a salute to the individuals who go beyond the thought of seeing a change and take it upon themselves to make the change. Individuals like Prof. Vijay Barse and Mel Young succeed because they do not give up on an idea in a weak moment and carry it through to its conclusion.
But to give kudos only to them will be to leave the real ‘stars’ out. Some of the real stars are:
World Cup 2008
Fifty-six countries (including India) participated in Melbourne and the team from war-torn Afghanistan emerged as the Men’s Champions thereby emerging as the first non-European champions. The Women’s Championship, instituted for the first time was won by Zambia.
More than 500 players and coaches attended the event and as they return to their native lands (but not their homes), many will hopefully see better lives and better opportunities for having been world cup participants.
Who are the World cuppers?
This is quoted from the tournament’s website and lists the eligibility criteria for participants of this year’s event:
- Are male or female and at least 16 years old (must have turned 16 before 01.12.2008) and
- Are or have been homeless at some point after 1.12.2007, in accordance with the national definition of homelessness or
- Make their main living income as street paper vendor or
- Are asylum seekers currently without positive asylum status or who were previously asylum seekers but obtained residency status after 1st December 2007 or
- Are currently in drug or alcohol rehabilitation and have been homeless at some point in the past two years (post 01.12.2006)
- Have not taken part in previous Homeless World Cup tournaments.
The Story Behind the World Cup
The story of the Homeless World Cup is the story of Mel Young and Harald Schmied. The following excerpt is taken from Mel Young’s profile on www.changemakers.net. (http://www.changemakers.net/en-us/user/9124/view)
Mel Young, 53, is recognised as one of the world’s leading social entrepreneurs by the Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship.
In 1993 he co-founded The Big Issue in Scotland, with Tricia Hughes. The weekly magazine is sold by homeless people in the streets of Scotland and now has a circulation of 40,000. With the success of The Big Issue in Scotland, he helped set up the International Network of Street Papers, a global network of over sixty street papers sold in every continent, of which he is Honorary President. The combined annual circulation of these papers is over 30 million helping 100,000 homeless or long-term unemployed people throughout the world every year.
It was in Cape Town, at the end of the 2001 INSP conference, that Mel and Austrian born Harald Schmied attempted to invent an international language to enable homeless people to communicate with each other around the world. When they realised one already existed – football – the Homeless World Cup was born. The first tournament was held in Austria in 2003 with 18 teams attending from around the world. This was followed by Sweden 2004, Edinburgh 2005, Cape Town 2006 and was staged in Copenhagen in July 2007 with 48 teams taking part.
The Impact
According to stats collected by the people behind the show, 77% of all participants see a positive change in their lives. According to a write-up on FIFA.com:
Post event research, done six months after the Edinburgh tournament, showed that, of 217 homeless competitors, 38% were in regular employment, 40% had improved their housing situation, and only 18% were still selling street papers. And a whopping 94% declared that they had 'a new motivation for life.'
Moreover, the Homeless World Cup has led to grassroots football programmes in over sixty countries with over 30,000 homeless people involved.
The Indian Chapter
Prof. Vijay Barse from Nagpur has driven slum football in India and got his inspiration watching some slum dwellers kick a bucket as a football one rainy afternoon. As founder of the Krida Vikas Manch he began by organizing slum football tournaments for Nagpur dwellers. The scale of his efforts grew significantly over the years and now Vijay is responsible for the Indian team’s presence in the World Cup. For the record, India is ranked 45th out of 48 countries in the Homeless Football World Rankings.
Closing Thoughts
The success and growth of the Homeless World Cup is a salute to the individuals who go beyond the thought of seeing a change and take it upon themselves to make the change. Individuals like Prof. Vijay Barse and Mel Young succeed because they do not give up on an idea in a weak moment and carry it through to its conclusion.
But to give kudos only to them will be to leave the real ‘stars’ out. Some of the real stars are:
- Sayeed Reza, who has been begging on the streets of Kabul for five years and scored 3 of his team’s 5 goals in the final
- Patrick Mbeu - former national team player for Rwanda, Mbeu lived in a shelter for political refugees in France before playing in the 2007 Homeless World Cup in Copenhagen, Denmark. This year, Mbeu is coaching the French team and earning his training certificate with the soccer club Paris Saint-Germain.
- 20-year-old Dehkontee Sayon from Liberia. Sayon is unemployed and technically homeless -- she lives with a friend in Liberia’s capital, Monrovia -- having previously studied accounting at the United Methodist University. "I stopped because of a lack of financial support," she told IPS.
- David Duke: Personal problems led to alcoholism which led to homelessness. Now this Scot is getting his life back on track after playing the homeless world cup and finding a reason for pride.
- Street Soccer Zimbabwe: A documentary film, which follows Tawanda Karasa, Manager of the Zimbabwe team through his efforts in using football to empower homeless and marginalised people in his home country, as well as the logistics of organising passports and travel arrangements for the players in the squad
- Goal: The Story of the Homeless World Cup is a book authored by Mel Young
- www.slumsoccer.org
- www.streetfootballworld.org
- www.homelessworldcup.org
- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homeless_World_Cup
- http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/12/03/sports/hwcup.php
- http://www.worldcupblog.org/world-football/homeless-world-cup-kicks-off-in-melbourne.html
- http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=44980
- http://www.fifa.com/aboutfifa/worldwideprograms/news/newsid=706376.html
Friday, December 5, 2008
A Reason to Play
I was in Jamshedpur on vacation last week and driving around town with the family in tow, we saw an archery event taking place in the JRD Tata Sports Complex. Intrigued and excited, Arti (my wife) and I returned to the scene of action a few hours later and it was a thrilling sight.
More than a hundred kids with bows ranging from the wooden to the coolest taking aim at targets placed 30-120 meters (or was it yards ??) away. This was the national junior archery championship and teams from all across the country were there to do battle. We had encountered the archers before the actual competition had started and what we saw were some practice rounds.
What a sight!
And then I wondered how many of them would still be shooting arrows in five-ten years time! Arti herself had played basketball for her state and then it never occurred to her to continue to do so after school was done. How many of these kids I saw would be in the pool of players still aiming for the Olympics when they reach the age?
The answer sadly is not many. Like Arti, for many travelling for camps and national level meets as a school kid will become memories in adulthood with not enough real relevance. One cannot blame them as a living will have to be made and the bread earned and the mortgage paid. The answer has to be in the direct linkage of livelihood with sports.
Take the example of Biwani and the boxers that are made. If you box well you can get a job with the army. This has created a large pool of boxers and the facilities to train them. And form this large pool have emerged one Olympic medalist and two who got close.
If similar solutions can be traced for more and more disciplines and similar pool of sportspersons can get created for each of them, I’m sure in a country as large as ours we will still be producing champions in spite of a lack of infrastructure and the best coaching. The trick is to make sure that they do not stop playing.
And the answer for football will also lie there. Yes, footballers probably have more of a future economically than archers even today, but then it is a sport that the whole world plays and hence the critical mass requirements for football are that much larger.
So here’s in search of a solution that gives youngsters an economic reason to play football. If anyone reads this and has an idea, let’s discuss and implement it. If it’s not for football but for any other sport (say shooting or swimming or wrestling or anything else) let’s hear about it and do something about it. There are many things that Indian sports is need of, but the biggest of them all is – a reason to play.
More than a hundred kids with bows ranging from the wooden to the coolest taking aim at targets placed 30-120 meters (or was it yards ??) away. This was the national junior archery championship and teams from all across the country were there to do battle. We had encountered the archers before the actual competition had started and what we saw were some practice rounds.
What a sight!
And then I wondered how many of them would still be shooting arrows in five-ten years time! Arti herself had played basketball for her state and then it never occurred to her to continue to do so after school was done. How many of these kids I saw would be in the pool of players still aiming for the Olympics when they reach the age?
The answer sadly is not many. Like Arti, for many travelling for camps and national level meets as a school kid will become memories in adulthood with not enough real relevance. One cannot blame them as a living will have to be made and the bread earned and the mortgage paid. The answer has to be in the direct linkage of livelihood with sports.
Take the example of Biwani and the boxers that are made. If you box well you can get a job with the army. This has created a large pool of boxers and the facilities to train them. And form this large pool have emerged one Olympic medalist and two who got close.
If similar solutions can be traced for more and more disciplines and similar pool of sportspersons can get created for each of them, I’m sure in a country as large as ours we will still be producing champions in spite of a lack of infrastructure and the best coaching. The trick is to make sure that they do not stop playing.
And the answer for football will also lie there. Yes, footballers probably have more of a future economically than archers even today, but then it is a sport that the whole world plays and hence the critical mass requirements for football are that much larger.
So here’s in search of a solution that gives youngsters an economic reason to play football. If anyone reads this and has an idea, let’s discuss and implement it. If it’s not for football but for any other sport (say shooting or swimming or wrestling or anything else) let’s hear about it and do something about it. There are many things that Indian sports is need of, but the biggest of them all is – a reason to play.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Salaam Stanley Matthews
‘Brain Drain’ is a term that I have not heard used too often this first decade of the millennium. Instead ‘global economy’,’ world citizen’, ‘cross-cultural’ and ‘international exposure’ are doing the rounds. Wherever you travel to, Indians are found in abundance. From Hunslow or Slough around London to La Chapelle in Paris, you walk into areas that feel like Delhi or Coimbatore. You may be far away from home, but you are rarely an alien.
I guess it must have been different in the 1950s…very, very different. This is the time when Subrata Dasgupta’s father, a doctor from Kolkata (then Calcutta) set sail to practice in the Blighty. Reaching the shores a few months after his father as a six year old, Subrata Dasgupta spent the next seven years of his life in various parts of England and until the elders decided that the call of the motherland was too strong to resist anymore, he grew up quite like an English lad.
“Salaam Stanley Mathews” is Dasgupta’s recollection of those days and the time he spent in England. But with a name like that, of course there’s more to it. The book is a tribute to the legendary footballer, it is an insight into the middle class life of the fifties in England, it is a guide on English football of that period and though it is not really “Oliver Twist”, it is a gripping read about the adventures and times of a schoolboy.
The book begins with the story of a little Bengali boy with little grasp of English trying to find his feet in a world which views him as a novelty. Towards the end, the little boy is old enough to understand that in many ways he is indeed a stranger and touchingly describes the realization that he, even on returning to his parents’ home, would be a stranger.In between the beginning and the end, is the life that the small Dasgupta family of three led through those seven years and young Poupee’s journey through neighbors, schools, friends, crushes and football.
A goal-keeper’s polo neck jersey and a description of the ’53 FA Cup final was what made the author fall in love with football, before he had seen or played too much of it. The pictures in a book of Stanley Mathews and Mortensen captured the nine-year old’s imagination and Mathews and Blackpool became ‘his’ in the manner of any passionate football fan. And it is the football that lords over Poupee’s childhood.
There are uprooted unhappy Indian dadas, there are neighbours - stiff upper-lipped and the more friendly type, friends who like a good fight, a father who loves creating models and is obsessed with Everest and a mother who could have been a professional singer but pines for her large joint family back home. Then there are the bigger issues that he sees with his child-eyes – If England is home, why do all the ‘dadas’ celebrate when they lose in cricket? Why do they force catechism at school? How can the English schooling system be so unfair as to decide a child’s future at the age of eleven?
Yet, for a boy obsessed with football and living his childhood, all bigger issues of life and world take a back seat on Cup Final day. Having the ability to hold a conversation about the League and who the best players are, are a prerequisite to making friends. The pain of seeing an idol fail to light up the stadium is far greater than any caused by displaced roots. The joy of seeing the idol win a cherished prize is equal to any personal success.
For Poupee, football became a religion and Mathews its God. When his family moved to Derby he grappled for a bit with the problem of being a Blackpool supporter while living in Derby, but he solved it amicably by adopting his new home town’s team as his second team and loyally followed them till his days in England came to an end. A doting father took him to his first game and till the very end he regularly went to the Baseball Ground (then Derby’s home ground) to cheer on is team. He lived the victories and suffered the defeats. He stood waiting in the cold with adults for the Saturday evening paper to arrive at the stores, so he could know all the results. He spent hours discussing and debating football with his friends. He spent hours at neighbours’ homes in front of the TV watching all live football that he possibly could. And one day, when on a summer vacation in Blackpool, he got the chance to meet (and get a picture taken with) Sir Stanley Mathews!
Exhibiting child like curiosity, Dasgupta peppers the book with questions racing through Poupee’s mind. With years of wisdom added to his childhood experiences, he provides thought provoking answers to some of them. Here’s one - Why does cricket writing have Neville Cardus while football is written like pulp fiction?
You may have your opinions on whether you found the book fluidly written or not and if there were points where you lost interest, but if you are a football fan living in India, trying to construct a picture of what it would be like to be there cheering your team on, you are bound to love this. True, fifty years have passed and a lot has changed in England, in India and in what it means to be supporting a club, yet the game remains as beautiful now, as it was then.
A number of Premier League fans from England, write all over the Internet about how fans in foreign countries are fair weather supporters who choose the flavor of the season as the team they support. Having seen a number of friends pledge loyalty to clubs and remain with them through thick and thin, I find Poupee’s love for Blackpool beginning with a match report and pictures, not very different from the circumstances in which we in India have chosen our favorite clubs. True, a lot of us did not live Poupee’s life, but in our imaginations, we do.
I guess it must have been different in the 1950s…very, very different. This is the time when Subrata Dasgupta’s father, a doctor from Kolkata (then Calcutta) set sail to practice in the Blighty. Reaching the shores a few months after his father as a six year old, Subrata Dasgupta spent the next seven years of his life in various parts of England and until the elders decided that the call of the motherland was too strong to resist anymore, he grew up quite like an English lad.
“Salaam Stanley Mathews” is Dasgupta’s recollection of those days and the time he spent in England. But with a name like that, of course there’s more to it. The book is a tribute to the legendary footballer, it is an insight into the middle class life of the fifties in England, it is a guide on English football of that period and though it is not really “Oliver Twist”, it is a gripping read about the adventures and times of a schoolboy.
The book begins with the story of a little Bengali boy with little grasp of English trying to find his feet in a world which views him as a novelty. Towards the end, the little boy is old enough to understand that in many ways he is indeed a stranger and touchingly describes the realization that he, even on returning to his parents’ home, would be a stranger.In between the beginning and the end, is the life that the small Dasgupta family of three led through those seven years and young Poupee’s journey through neighbors, schools, friends, crushes and football.
A goal-keeper’s polo neck jersey and a description of the ’53 FA Cup final was what made the author fall in love with football, before he had seen or played too much of it. The pictures in a book of Stanley Mathews and Mortensen captured the nine-year old’s imagination and Mathews and Blackpool became ‘his’ in the manner of any passionate football fan. And it is the football that lords over Poupee’s childhood.
There are uprooted unhappy Indian dadas, there are neighbours - stiff upper-lipped and the more friendly type, friends who like a good fight, a father who loves creating models and is obsessed with Everest and a mother who could have been a professional singer but pines for her large joint family back home. Then there are the bigger issues that he sees with his child-eyes – If England is home, why do all the ‘dadas’ celebrate when they lose in cricket? Why do they force catechism at school? How can the English schooling system be so unfair as to decide a child’s future at the age of eleven?
Yet, for a boy obsessed with football and living his childhood, all bigger issues of life and world take a back seat on Cup Final day. Having the ability to hold a conversation about the League and who the best players are, are a prerequisite to making friends. The pain of seeing an idol fail to light up the stadium is far greater than any caused by displaced roots. The joy of seeing the idol win a cherished prize is equal to any personal success.
For Poupee, football became a religion and Mathews its God. When his family moved to Derby he grappled for a bit with the problem of being a Blackpool supporter while living in Derby, but he solved it amicably by adopting his new home town’s team as his second team and loyally followed them till his days in England came to an end. A doting father took him to his first game and till the very end he regularly went to the Baseball Ground (then Derby’s home ground) to cheer on is team. He lived the victories and suffered the defeats. He stood waiting in the cold with adults for the Saturday evening paper to arrive at the stores, so he could know all the results. He spent hours discussing and debating football with his friends. He spent hours at neighbours’ homes in front of the TV watching all live football that he possibly could. And one day, when on a summer vacation in Blackpool, he got the chance to meet (and get a picture taken with) Sir Stanley Mathews!
Exhibiting child like curiosity, Dasgupta peppers the book with questions racing through Poupee’s mind. With years of wisdom added to his childhood experiences, he provides thought provoking answers to some of them. Here’s one - Why does cricket writing have Neville Cardus while football is written like pulp fiction?
You may have your opinions on whether you found the book fluidly written or not and if there were points where you lost interest, but if you are a football fan living in India, trying to construct a picture of what it would be like to be there cheering your team on, you are bound to love this. True, fifty years have passed and a lot has changed in England, in India and in what it means to be supporting a club, yet the game remains as beautiful now, as it was then.
A number of Premier League fans from England, write all over the Internet about how fans in foreign countries are fair weather supporters who choose the flavor of the season as the team they support. Having seen a number of friends pledge loyalty to clubs and remain with them through thick and thin, I find Poupee’s love for Blackpool beginning with a match report and pictures, not very different from the circumstances in which we in India have chosen our favorite clubs. True, a lot of us did not live Poupee’s life, but in our imaginations, we do.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The Silhouette at Montmartre
One of the most captivating spots for a traveller to the French capital city is Montmartre - mountain of the martyr. Perched high on a hill not far from the famous Moulin Rouge and a short walk from the Parisian sleaze hub of Pigalle is this towering monument, which I reached as the sun made his first moves towards the horizon one Friday evening.
Paris has the ability to make you smile even if you are a lonely, homesick and somewhat disinterested traveller, by providing an ambience of music and festivity around well advertised tourist infested destinations. Personally, after having experienced the jungles, I have found it hard to get excited or awed by monuments - including the best of them. Yet I was looking forward to Montmartre as multiple trusted Parisian friends had vouched for its effect to cast a spell.
And true to the promises, I was spell bound. There was something special about sitting on the steps that led to the Church and taking in Bob Marley songs performed by a young Frenchman bathed by a very gentle sunlight in perfect weather. There was something special about being alone in a calm crowd and observing people who were observing people. There was something special about walking inside the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur while the prayer service was in progress (some of the text on the walls inside was in Malayalam). And it was a special feeling of calm when you walked behind the dome to suddenly lose the crowd and find a lone musician practising on a saxophone in a quaint garden!
And then there was Iya. Stood precariously on a 3ft * 3ft platform, ready to roll down the hill, Iya was making a football do all that he wanted it to do. Depending on where you stood, you could see Iya lord over the city or be blessed by the sun. For once my trusted Olympus lay in Bangalore when I needed it with me. Used my phone to get some pics and video which I am posting here.
Learn more about Iya on http://www.iyatraore.com/. He can also be found on youtube and may be seen at PSG. And if you happen to be in Paris, expect to find him at Montmartre (or other not too tough to find places), juggling away with his cool black cap beside him filling to the brim with coins of appreciation.
Paris has the ability to make you smile even if you are a lonely, homesick and somewhat disinterested traveller, by providing an ambience of music and festivity around well advertised tourist infested destinations. Personally, after having experienced the jungles, I have found it hard to get excited or awed by monuments - including the best of them. Yet I was looking forward to Montmartre as multiple trusted Parisian friends had vouched for its effect to cast a spell.
And true to the promises, I was spell bound. There was something special about sitting on the steps that led to the Church and taking in Bob Marley songs performed by a young Frenchman bathed by a very gentle sunlight in perfect weather. There was something special about being alone in a calm crowd and observing people who were observing people. There was something special about walking inside the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur while the prayer service was in progress (some of the text on the walls inside was in Malayalam). And it was a special feeling of calm when you walked behind the dome to suddenly lose the crowd and find a lone musician practising on a saxophone in a quaint garden!
And then there was Iya. Stood precariously on a 3ft * 3ft platform, ready to roll down the hill, Iya was making a football do all that he wanted it to do. Depending on where you stood, you could see Iya lord over the city or be blessed by the sun. For once my trusted Olympus lay in Bangalore when I needed it with me. Used my phone to get some pics and video which I am posting here.
Learn more about Iya on http://www.iyatraore.com/. He can also be found on youtube and may be seen at PSG. And if you happen to be in Paris, expect to find him at Montmartre (or other not too tough to find places), juggling away with his cool black cap beside him filling to the brim with coins of appreciation.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Arsenal v Manchester United, November 8, Premier League
It was a great night for Arsenal who finished 2-1 winners against the Champions on a night when any other result would have led to more tut-tutting and comments about the wisdom of Arsene. Personally I don't think that this win has provided any new proof regarding Arsenal's title credentials and if they had a one in four chance of winning it before Saturday then the odds should be no better or worse today.
We all know that Arsenal can win against the best and can do it in diapers and that's just what they did. The question is, how many times out of 38 will they do it this season and whether their own inconsistency will be exceeded by that of the other contenders.
"Entertainment" is the word that summarizes the 90 minute thriller with chances and openings and moments of brilliance. Trappings of a Saturday evening social life made me miss the first twenty odd minutes and the Nasri opener. A delayed start to my half-time smoke break resulted in me missing Nasri's second. And so, as I saw it, it was a game dominated by Manchester United with very impressive resilience from Arsenal supplemented with counter attacking punches.
For Arsenal, Nasri caught the eye even though I didn't actually see him score and Diaby has impressed me every time I have seen him. Bendtner clearly is not cut out for the lone striker role and they really need to work on their crossing. And while I am all for the beautiful football, I can't understand their reluctance towards retaining possession as the game draws to a close.
Alex Ferguson and his team will be furious at not having at least taken a point from this one. The problem with having such a star studded front line is that someone needs to sit on the bench and on days when the goals don't go in, questions will always be raised about why the star on the bench didn't play. And even with that understanding I too am tempted to blame the absence of Tevez for the lack of bite.
But here is why I'm really in bliss after the game. Rafael, coming on as a second half sub for Gary Neville is the type of player who spreads joy. In the few minutes he was on the pitch, we saw him hold the ball under pressure from a herd, we saw him make a brilliant tackle to stop an attack and then we saw him score for the Red Devils - a left footed wonder strike from the right back. He may be a while away from playing ninety minutes week in and week out, but he should get there.
While Neville will slip into the veteran's super sub role, I expect Wes Brown to be looking for clubs in a season or two. This was my second sighting of the Brazilian and there is a special happiness in seeing a potential phenomenon in his very early days. This week I'll be basking in that joy!
We all know that Arsenal can win against the best and can do it in diapers and that's just what they did. The question is, how many times out of 38 will they do it this season and whether their own inconsistency will be exceeded by that of the other contenders.
"Entertainment" is the word that summarizes the 90 minute thriller with chances and openings and moments of brilliance. Trappings of a Saturday evening social life made me miss the first twenty odd minutes and the Nasri opener. A delayed start to my half-time smoke break resulted in me missing Nasri's second. And so, as I saw it, it was a game dominated by Manchester United with very impressive resilience from Arsenal supplemented with counter attacking punches.
For Arsenal, Nasri caught the eye even though I didn't actually see him score and Diaby has impressed me every time I have seen him. Bendtner clearly is not cut out for the lone striker role and they really need to work on their crossing. And while I am all for the beautiful football, I can't understand their reluctance towards retaining possession as the game draws to a close.
Alex Ferguson and his team will be furious at not having at least taken a point from this one. The problem with having such a star studded front line is that someone needs to sit on the bench and on days when the goals don't go in, questions will always be raised about why the star on the bench didn't play. And even with that understanding I too am tempted to blame the absence of Tevez for the lack of bite.
But here is why I'm really in bliss after the game. Rafael, coming on as a second half sub for Gary Neville is the type of player who spreads joy. In the few minutes he was on the pitch, we saw him hold the ball under pressure from a herd, we saw him make a brilliant tackle to stop an attack and then we saw him score for the Red Devils - a left footed wonder strike from the right back. He may be a while away from playing ninety minutes week in and week out, but he should get there.
While Neville will slip into the veteran's super sub role, I expect Wes Brown to be looking for clubs in a season or two. This was my second sighting of the Brazilian and there is a special happiness in seeing a potential phenomenon in his very early days. This week I'll be basking in that joy!
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