Red tape at the finishing line

The hosts were not willing to settle for anything less than the gold even in a sport like hockey where they had little to show by way of tradition. Forget the skills. They had the determination and a belief to back their dream.

Now contrast this with how we prepare our athletes for the challenge of a nutcracker like the Asian Games.

It was a pitiful sight on television to see former All England champion Pulela Gopichand — he was cleared only on Saturday — state that he was still awaiting clearance from the government. He admitted a bit remorsefully that he had actually stopped thinking about the Busan trip. Experts feel that Gopichand is a bright medal prospect. They explain that the tournament follows the 15 point-three game format, which suits him, and not the seven point-five game format, which has dogged Gopichand ever since it was introduced after his All England win two years ago.

Gopichand’s is not an isolated case. One of the biggest heroes of the last Asian Games, Bangkok 1998, boxer Dingko Singh, was not even considered fit for a place in the Indian contingent. It was only the perseverance of the boxing federation and their last-ditch offer to bear all his expenses that made the Indian Olympic Association (IOA) and the government relent.

One picture that you will never see is of Dingko waiting anxiously in ’98 for clearance to board the Asian Games flight. The picture that we see is only of him being feted and hugged by the patronising administrators.

Dingko proved that he was exceptionally talented. He reaped some rewards also for his gold. Subsequently he injured his wrist and struggled to recover from it. He also complained of poor training facilities but never got what he wanted. His story ended very sadly at Busan against a North Korean opponent, who can at best be rated as mediocre in comparison to the Dingko of 1998. We are quick to bring out the drums and put up the banners and buntings. We love to celebrate a victory but we detest the planning and the hard labour that goes into the creation of this victory.

The entire nation went ecstatic and a new dawn of Indian sport was quickly predicted after the medal deluge at this summer’s Commonwealth Games. Nobody cared to do anything about the doping scandal other than mouth a few strong words. Nor did the government or the federations bother to realise and admit that these medals were won in an event, which has more to do with nostalgia of an Empire long gone than calibre.

Suddenly there was a competition among central and state governments to announce a bigger prize for the medal winners. The Centre alone must have given away more than Rs 10 crore in reward — Rs 20 lakh for every gold, Rs 15 lakh for silver and Rs 10 lakh for bronze. The state governments too would have contributed another 50 per cent of this amount.

Unfortunately, nobody bothered to draw the blueprint for any long-term development programme or an investment in the future of Indian sport. The Indian medal balloon lies badly pricked in Busan. We are already out of men’s team tennis and the individual section in snooker.

The brave Dingko Singh was not even a shadow of the 1998 champion as he went down tamely. Do we have any idea who would replicate Jyotirmoyee Sikdar’s two golds and one silver.

Any ideas how we would even reach the Bangkok tally of seven gold, 11 silver and 17 bronze? Or, how we plan to retain the men’s hockey gold when we are already worried about meeting Pakistan in the semis?

Almost a week into the Asian Games the Indian medal tally stands at a meagre one gold, two silver and bronze apiece. Yasin Merchant and Rafath Habib accounted for the sole gold in snooker doubles. Still there will be a women’s hockey team or a spunky boxer like Mohammad Ali Qamar who would again find himself hoisted on the broad shoulders of Indian administrators and patrons.

Such victories would be more due to sheer individual brilliance and not the by-product of any scheme of our system.