This week’s ” Poke Me”, invites your comments on why football, not cricket, should be our most-loved game. The feature will be reproduced on the edit page of the Saturday edition of the newspaper with a pick of readers’ best comments. (Readers comments published in ET)
So be poked and fire in your comments to us right away. Comments reproduced in the paper will be the ones that support or oppose the views expressed here intelligently. Feel free to add reference links etc. in support of your comments.
Like cricket, football came to India on British ships. Today, Indians compete at the highest level in cricket. Every evening, millions follow the fortunes of the national team as it competes in the T20 World Cup. But when it comes to football, India is a paradox of global proportions.
Football is the most popular sport on the planet. Fifa, football’s apex organization, now ranks 206 nations – almost every country on earth. India now ranks 169 on this chart, behind Afghanistan, Nepal and Vanuatu, but ahead of Pakistan which is number 177.
Football is a relatively uncomplicated game to play: the idea is to put a ball in the net of the opposing team, using anything but the players’ hands. Compared to this beautiful simplicity, the rules of cricket begin to look like particle physics. Football is also cheap, all you need is a ball and a bit of ground to play on. Even the ground is optional: terraces or empty roads will suffice, as will a beach. This is why football was adopted so easily around the world, especially among working classes.
The cost and complexity of cricket meant that it would be restricted to elites among host populations, the Vizzys and Jamsahibs of colonial India and their descendants. But in modern India, this model has turned on its head: cricket is the common man’s game, European football has a growing following among relatively well-heeled folk and domestic football is an orphan. It need not have been that way, and it might yet turn out otherwise, but we need to understand the paradox through the history of football.
When the traders of the East India Company set up base in Calcutta, they brought their pastimes along with them. Football was a very British way of unwinding and the first colonizers had no intention of allowing natives to play their game. The first recorded football match in India was played by between a ‘Calcutta Club of Civilians’ and the ‘Gentlemen of Barrackpore.’
The Calcutta Football Club (CFC) was set up in 1872, as an all-British institution. But between the first game and the start of the CFC, one event had shaken the empire to its roots: the Uprising of 1857.
Though the revolutionaries were from across India, British sleuths discovered that they were led by Bengali officers. This led to a purge of Bengalis (and Muslims, who were the foot soldiers of the revolt) from the Indian armed forces.
After the Uprising, the British decided to coopt locals more firmly into the ruling structure: along with English education, games would become mandatory. By the 1870s, Calcutta had become the hub of Indian football, with a full league’s worth of teams. The navy had one, police, customs, trades, the alumni of Eton, Harrow and Winchester had their own teams, as did the Armenians.
Meanwhile, the sting of being excluded from the military and being characterized by a vitriolic Macaulay as effete, limp-wrested babus, Bengalis had begun to pursue an aggressive akhara culture, which would morph into revolutionary violence.
By 1889, the natives had formed their first team: Mohun Bagan. In 1911, this team won the IFA Shield beating a regimental squad, the first victory of any Asian team against the British.
In 1953, the defender Sailen Manna, skipper of Mohun Bagan and the Indian teams, was among the top 10 skippers of world football according to the English Football Association. This was unsurprising. Manna had led his barefoot India team to the 1948 Olympics, losing by a whisker to France and to gold at the 1951 Asian Games.
Till the early 1980s it was hard to say whether football or cricket was more popular in India. But one thing was clear: the iron grip of our caste system, which venerates hierarchy and revels in class distinction had crept into the sporting system.
Cricket was the gentleman’s game, played and enjoyed by Anglicised elites who spoke the same plummy language that commentator Pearson Surita did. Football was for proles.
In economic terms, this meant that cricket associations and clubs would always find it easier than football to raise funds. Parents wouldn’t mind if children wanted to play cricket professionally, but there would be hell to pay if a son decided to pursue a career in football.
Then, two decisive events happened. The first was the live telecast of the final games of the 1978 World Cup in Argentina, which the hosts won against the Netherlands. For the first time, Indian football fans watched the game at its highest level – and the gulf between desi and international standards of play, power and tactics became horribly apparent.
The second event was India’s freak victory at the 1983 cricket World Cup final, also telecast live, in full colour. Suddenly we were world-beaters at something – never mind if less than a dozen nations comprised that world. After this, it was clear to broadcasters and fatcats where the eyeballs – and money – would flow to. And it wouldn’t be going football’s way.
Yet, this can change. Football, at least the top-level European game where players from the world over play, is now a huge draw for fans in India. Many such fans, like my 11-year old who adores the Spanish club Barcelona, have never watched Mohun Bagan play and would be hard-pressed to name its arch-rival.
Kids today not only watch European games with passion, they’re also playing the great game. Football coaching is profitable: academies from storied teams like Liverpool, Manchester United and Barcelona are setting up shop in India. Probably it’s time for football to become India’s best-loved – and best-played – game.
appill 