Journalism of Courage
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This is an archive article published on January 17, 2011
In your own leagu
When people comment on what a cricket crazy nation we are,I ask them if theyve heard of the DIFL.
4 min read
When people comment on what a cricket crazy nation we are,I ask them if theyve heard of the DIFL (Delhi International Soccer League). The DIFL organises football matches for children between 5 and 15 at grounds across Delhi,where parents and coaches create teams and play every Sunday in winter. Its hugely competitive,the kids play in uniforms complete with protection gear,while parents cheer (or sometimes rant wildly) from the sidelines. Getting into DIFL is a Herculean task: the website states clearly on page one itself that committed parents (those willing to organise snacks and drinks,and haul themselves to the grounds at an unearthly hour on a freezing Sunday morning) will be given preference. Fair enough.
Its not entirely surprising to me that I didnt make the cut for our 8-year-old son,three years running. Spending a precious Sunday morning on a football field could easily qualify as my worst nightmare. My husband refused flat out and told me I should enroll my son only if Im willing to take on the football burden alone. After checking out one DIFL match,I found the undercurrents and rivalries between teams seriously scary,and decided my son will have to go without the chance to discover if he could be Pele. But after his constant pestering I enrolled him for his school soccer league,the first match of which was held last weekend.
On the foggiest and coldest morning of this year,we reached the school grounds,swathed in about five layers. Where we soon discovered,alas,my sons enthusiasm for football isnt matched by talent. After his lacklustre performance,I suggested,if he wants the ball,he should try running after it. The next discovery: while hes the tallest in his team,hes also the slowest. It turns out hes inherited my genes: Im no PT Usha. Despite him,his team won the match.
Being out there,in a mock competitions of sorts (at the end of the season every kid gets a trophy) there is still pressure to perform. Parents have a tremendous influence on how a child interprets an experience,even an unpleasant one. In sport,more than any field I think,parental intervention is crucial for success.
Im reminded of my friend Bharti Singh,whose 15-year-old daughter Gurbani Singh recently won the All India Junior Golf Championship. Gurbani has been playing golf since age 6,is on the international amateur tour and is traveling for tournaments for a minimum of 3 or 4 months a year. In Delhi,Gurbanis routine is well established. On school days,from the bus stop itself she goes to the course where she practices for 2 hours,goes home,studies for a bit and sleeps. She handles the stress of playing competitive golf with a maturity way beyond her years. Bharti is quietly proud of her daughters achievements,but tells me how keeping the focus from waning is the hardest part. Ive never been entirely convinced of the sporting route to success. The euphoric highs of winning are too few compared to the lows. In Outliers ,Malcolm Gladwell says it takes 10,000 hours to be an expert at virtually anything. Maybe theres still some hope Ill be a proud soccer mom yet.
For more information on DIFL,log onto http://www.difl.org(hutkayfilms@gmail.com)
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