Faux Pa

Young paddler Biswajit Bhattacharjee8217;s death at his Bansdroni residence in Kolkata after his demanding father had allegedly beaten him up while training, might be an extreme instance of the push turning to shove turning to the fatal knock. But there is seldom a juniors tournament in India where an erring youngster is spared the proverbial rod.

Parents mean well most times. But sometimes they turn, well, mean.

Deepak Bhattacharya8217;s extreme measures as punitive action for his boy, who didn8217;t measure up to his immodest expectations on the playing table, are not a rarity. DV Sundar, secretary Table Tennis Federation of India, says , 8220;We have a lot of parents slapping their kids after losing. This one came to light, but what if the child himself takes an extreme step?8221; he warns.

Sundar recalls how a talented TT player from Salem was accompanied by a father who would beat the girl every time she lost. 8220;We counsel them when we see it happen at a tournament, but there is no denying that it continues inside the house,8221; he adds.

At the heart of these shocking instances are parents investing their earnings in a child8217;s sporting career and expecting instant returns. 8220;Parents turn very ambitious. They make sacrifices and expect their child to become the next Vishy Anand right away,8221; says Sundar, who is also the secretary of the national chess federation and has observed the trend widely in what would be commonly perceived as an intellectual, mature sport and free of such brazen physical punishment. 8220;It gets worse when parents make it vocally known that they8217;ve made the sacrifices and pile on the mental pressure which is as deadly,8217;8217; Sundar adds.

Chess star Manuel Aaron, who has watched parents turn more anxious over the years, believes impatience sets in very early in these times. 8220;You can never tell when a child will flower. Even Anand started with a consolation prize in his first event. But in his case, his father was well-off. If parents are struggling to put together resources, children are constantly reminded of the money spent on them, and that eats into the child,8221; he says.

Chess has also witnessed a deeper malaise. 8220;Parents see Anand, Humpy earn a lot of money and expect the same from their kids. In some cases, they are living off income generated by the children,8221; Aaron adds.

Harder to explain than the financial benefits, is the tendency to proxy-achieve. Mumbai abounds with fathers who were deprived of the chance to pursue cricket, after professional commitments ended their promising careers. Sharadashram coach Naresh Churi receives daily enquiries on how well a particular budding batsman is progressing in his march towards becoming the next Sachin Tendulkar. 8220;The father must8217;ve been denied the opportunities, so when he pushes the son into cricket, he expects him to make the best of what he is providing him,8221; he says.

A slap here, a whack there, is never far away from Mumbai8217;s maidans and even recommended in cases of repeated infringements. 8220;Parents either look at cricket as a career, or they project it as a life-mission for the kids, since they believe they are setting up the platform for them which they themselves were denied. They don8217;t stop to give harsh punishments. Swearing, beating is common,8221; Churi says.

Churi recalls a recent instance of a 13-year-old boy playing in the Giles Shield. 8220;He was a good runner normally, but then suddenly stopped running even if the ball was hit to quite a distance. I was stunned to see him rooted to his crease, so I asked his teammates. They told me that his father would make him take 10 rounds of Shivaji Park, if he ever ran himself out, which means he was scared of even taking the easy runs.8221; It needed a few heart-to-heart sessions between the father and coach to sort out the problem. He stroked freely in his three-hour stay and ran as many as 50 singles in their last match as a result.

Parental overkill is not restricted to cricket. In Kerala, where adolescent over-training is rampant in swimming and athletics, India8217;s most celebrated athlete PT Usha struggles to answer questions on how soon eager parents can see their girls run as quick as her. 8220;We tell parents not to expect any results in four years8217; time. Our first classes are for parents, and then we get started with the kids,8221; she shrugs.

Neither is it rare to find a long-distance swimmer8217;s mother from Pune say, 8220;We have to push him, otherwise he won8217;t listen.8221; With no endurance-limit regulations in India, and sundry 8216;youngest8217; records to target, children are pushed to the edge. Worse still, as has happened in Bengal, most sports-kids are pulled out of school completely, restricting them to an environment which can turn claustrophobic in the presence of an obsessed parent.

Some marathon midgets from Orissa following in little Budhia8217;s small steps should8217;ve never been allowed to run, but an under-age child is rarely respected in India.

Neither is the coach accorded the trust he deserves. Krishna Bhupathi, who has raised a successful tennis champion and coached several youngsters, says the parents8217; role is well-defined and the brief should never be exceeded. 8220;The job of a parent is to introduce the child to any sport in general. Look for the best coaching facility, pay the fees and leave it to the coach.

8220;But parents tend to believe they are experts if they8217;ve watched 3-4 tournaments on TV, that8217;s where the trouble starts,8221; Bhupathi Sr says.

Interference in coaching isn8217;t just annoying to a coach, it can completely ruin a child8217;s game. Muralidhar Rao, who runs a successful TT academy in Chennai boasting of India No 1 Sharath Kamal says, 8220;We caution parents to not come anywhere near the training area. During tournaments, emotional support goes beyond desirable limits, which can be very embarrassing. Also, they criticise every point, with scant knowledge. If correction is a coach8217;s job, then even criticism should be left solely to him,8221; he says.

Naresh Churi finds himself absurdly taking over parental duties, because parents are trampling upon his coaching rights. 8220;Their job is to take care of the food and studies, but they will insist on correcting a child8217;s forward defence. Here it8217;s all reversed,8221; he says amused, adding, 8220;I8217;ve been collecting marksheets to check on their scores these last few years, after parents complained that they are not studying enough.8221;

But raised in a society where the family has traditionally provided the first wall of support, it is no surprise that Indian sportspersons rely heavily on parents, pledging their loyalties, sometimes in conflict with the coach. 8220;Performances may vary, but the core group which gives a player his emotional support needs to stay constant. Parents are an important part of the team,8221; stresses former international shuttler Uday Pawar, currently overseeing the development of his son Anand. 8220;Since kids spend more time with parents, they should use the influence to teach the kids to get independent,8221; he adds.

Detachment is the key, though, several parents are known to veer in the opposite direction, and assume absolute control which gradually leads to habitual imposing of physical penalties. Kajal Menon, Head, Awareness and Advocacy Deptt of Childline Mumbai, a SOS helpline, believes sensitising parents to the harm they are causing children is important. 8220;They might not mean harm, but there is the sense of abuse when sports kids are beaten up. Parents are either trying to live their life through the child or presuming that they are preparing him for the competitive world. Either ways, it8217;s a power-play. Some kids may even imbibe this kind of strict upbringing and get a few good performances in the short term. But they may break down at any stage8230;. 8220; she trails off.

When playing the perfect parent, cajole the sponsors, pick on an opponent8217;s bright playing gear, butt in during interviews 8211; if you please, but spare the child.

TENNIS TERROR FATHERS

Damir Dokic-Jelena Dokic

Boorish behaviour saw the burly father of the Yugoslavian being evicted from the 2000 Australian Open, after he was accused of assaulting a cameraman. At Wimbledon he was escorted off the grounds after a drunken rage in which he smashed a broadcaster8217;s cell phone to the ground. Earlier he was also cited for drunk and disorderly conduct for lying down in the middle of the road after being thrown out of a tournament in Birmingham, England, for being verbally abusive at the matches. Damir had threatened to kidnap his daughter from Australia.

Jim Pierce-Mary Pierce

The WTA passed a regulation commonly known as the 8216;Jim Pierce Rule8217; after this nightmare dad in 1993 which prohibited abusive conduct on the part of players, coaches and relatives. Jim was routinely known to hurl abuse at Mary8217;s opponents and had once physically beat Mary in the leadup to a tournament, after which she parted ways with him.

Stefano Capriati-Jennifer Capriati

A stuntman, Stefano is accused of piggybacking on his daughter8217;s millions-worth fortunes while his overbearing presence was one of the main reasons why Jennifer quit tennis in 1993. Jennifer8217;s former coach Pavel Slozil was also scared off and vowed to never work with a female player and her family.

Marinko Lukic- Mirjana Lukic

The US and Australian juniors champ fled her homeland Croatia in 1998 to escape from her tyrannical father Marinko, who was also rumoured to have been hauled up for a domestic incident. Mirjana had later spoken about more beatings than anyone could imagine, sometimes because she lost a game, sometimes because she lost a set.