Let146;s Find the Goal-Post

It is a fascinating story, firmly entwined with the nationalist struggle in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Football was, like almost every other sport we play, introduced by the British. Yet while cricket was slower to catch on, football8217;s advantage was its relative simplicity, in rules and infrastructure. Why did it take root in Bengal and acquire the status, still held, of a religion of all places? There are several reasons. Two stand out. First, it offered the Indian a level playing field against his British master, and the chance to accrue some gain from defeating him. As happened in 1911, when the barefoot players of Mohun

Bagan won the IFA Shield defeating the booted soldiers of the East Yorkshire Regiment.

The second reason, the authors argue, was the Bengali8217;s desire to disprove the traditionally held notion that he was effete or lazy. It is striking how this notion has stuck through the ages, from the British view of Bengalis as 8216;8216;fakers, whingers, divers8217;8217;, through Noel Coward8217;s Mad Dogs and Englishmen 8216;8216;In Bengal, to move at all is seldom, if ever, done8217;8217; to recent appraisals of a former cricket captain.

The game spread out of Bengal, notably to Punjab and Kerala, but it was hamstrung by inherent conflicts. In Calcutta, there were four different hostilities at play: Hindu vs Muslim; Ghoti vs Bangal Mohun Bagan, the 8220;West Bengal club8221;, and the eponymous East Bengal; Indian vs British; and Bengali vs non-Bengali. Squabbles, bickering, splitting hairs, egos, insecurities8230; football didn8217;t stand a chance.

It8217;s also the story of almost every other sport in India. Cricket, too. Back in the early 1980s cricket, football and hockey were at roughly the same level; India were reigning Olympic champions in the national sport, the Nehru Cup was attracting good footballing nations, the ramshackle wooden ramparts on the Maidan were heaving every matchday.

Lord8217;s 1983 changed all that and within a few years cricket had left other sports way behind. Yet only in a manner of speaking for the domestic game is a very poor cousin 8212; seemingly unrelated 8212; to international cricket. Indeed, it is cricket8217;s good fortune that it is played only by half a dozen countries; that, all these years post-1983, has allowed the BCCI to pursue its one-eyed vision of the game, safe in the knowledge that however bad the domestic structure, sheer volumes will make up the difference.

It is inexplicable, though, why football cannot do the same. Why, when the game is played everywhere at all levels, can India not find 22 players to represent it at the Asian Games, leave alone the Olympics or the World Cup? It has little to do with economics; Angola and Ivory Coast, among the poorest nations and torn apart by recent or ongoing civil war, will be present at this summer8217;s World Cup.

Ultimately, what any team sport needs is credibility. That is what cricket enjoys, despite all that has hapened post-1983. When you watch Team India play you know that it is, by and large, the best possible team playing. You don8217;t get that feeling with hockey or football, or athletics. It8217;s one explanation for the recent trend of Indians8217; success in individual events 8212; motor racing, chess, tennis, squash, shooting. It is largely an entrepreneurial venture, and we all know how good Indians are at that!

Yet small movements have started that offer hope for a football revival in the long term. The sport is big at the school level, where they go far beyond merely watching the English Premiership or buying the replica shirts. Girls, too, have taken to the game with a seriousness that evokes Jess Bhamra, the protagonist of Gurinder Chadha8217;s film. Those whose parents can afford it spend a week at 8216;8216;coaching camps8217;8217; in Manchester or Madrid. At another level East Bengal, ironically replacing Mohun Bagan in setting standards for Indian football, have shown how the game can be professionalised.

Goalless, which ends on an optimistic note, is a study long overdue. One wishes, though, that it had been less Bengal-centric, and less academic. That would have made it more accessible; which is, the kind of leg-up football needs.