
Everyone can remember the images. The squeals of delight. Throwing captain and coach up in the air. Joining hands in a semi-circle for a moment of contemplation. Then, gold around their necks, singing the national anthem with a refreshing innocence you8217;d thought had vanished from sport. The powerful image of One.
For all that, you8217;d assume it8217;s easy to be a woman hockey player in India. Anything but. In the ranking of sports in India, cricket occupies the first 10 slots; all other men8217;s sports come next. Whatever space left on the podium is for women8217;s sports, jostling and jockeying for their inch of space. Hockey, despite the right credentials 8212; Asian Games gold in 1982, silver in 1998, Asia Cup silver in 1999, now the Commonwealth gold 8212; is a punctuation mark.
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Forget cricket, This is
India8217;s latest dream team |
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This is a team without stars, right? Right, but if it had to have stars it would be these five, who together sum up all that8217;s best about their team: spunky, funky and oozing flair. Presenting the Spice Girls of Indian hockey
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Add to that the baggage that comes with with being a professional woman 8212; and a sportswoman to boot 8212; in tribal/rural/small town India where most of these players come from and you have an inkling of what they8217;re up against. After all, even when you8217;ve seen the images all of last weekend, would you recognise the captain if you saw her on the street?
The trick, as these 16 girls and their colleagues have perfected, is to take the rough with the smooth, throw in a large helping of good humour and believe in each other. That8217;s what they did; that8217;s what got them the gold.
It8217;s an attitude best summed up by Kaanti Baa, the team8217;s young defender. She comes from Simdega district, Jharkhand, and has to walk two hours through dense forest to reach the nearest bus stop. 8216;8216;Struggle to karna hi tha, nahi to yaha tak kaise aate8217;8217;, she says, with a smile and without any trace of irony or bitterness.
Signs of hardship are written all over the tiny room in Delhi8217;s National Stadium that serves as the office of the Indian Women8217;s Hockey Federation. The room is tucked away in a corner of the stadium complex; you8217;d probably miss it if you weren8217;t looking for it. On the way you pass the suites occupied by the big boys, including the Indian Hockey Federation; all of them look out onto the field.
The IWHF office doesn8217;t; it8217;s a jumble of papers, the odd trophy, a computer and a fax machine, manned 8212; if that is indeed the word 8212; by an all-woman staff of three. Their task is to co-ordinate with 31 units and approximately 3100 registered players. Only two of the three are paid staff but, as secretary Amrit Bose puts it, it8217;s 8216;8216;a project of the women, for the women and by the women8217;8217; That8217;s why, she adds wryly, 8216;8216;despite the resource crunch, we can run the show economically and effectively8217;8217;.
Maybe they don8217;t complain because living in the shadow of their male counterparts is second nature.
But the hardships are real enough. The team8217;s official kit supplier withdrew their support last year, leaving the players without astro-turf shoes or proper kits for the Commonwealth Games.
While the men8217;s team is sponsored by Castrol, the women have found no solid backer. Again, the IWHF was offered Rs 2.5 lakh by Doordarshan for the telecast of the finals of national-level tournaments; the men8217;s team gets Rs 6 lakhs per match.
The federation8217;s annual budget 8212; around Rs 2 lakh, raised from donations, capitation fees and the support of the Railways 8212; is scarcely sufficient to host tournaments, purchase hockey sticks and kits and send the team abroad. It8217;s even forced a cutback on national tournaments at all levels. The Nationals have been held only twice in the past three years due to lack of sponsorship.
Obviously, this filters down to the players too. They still use wooden sticks, when all other top teams use metal. The players themselves are quite blase about it. 8216;8216;I have never played with metal sticks, so I don8217;t know the difference from wooden stick8217;8217;, says Sanggai Chanu, the team8217;s right-out from Bashikong, a village on the outskirts of Imphal.
Chanu8217;s just one of the many from Manipur and Jharkhand, states that rarely exist in our consciousness. There were obvious social and cultural differences which could have made for awkward and embarrassing situations. Says Suraj Lata Devi, the team captain from Manipur, 8216;8216;My first time at the national camp was a shocking experience 8212; I didn8217;t speak Hindi, had never seen a train. But then I realised it was the same with so many other girls. Staying away from our families, we developed strong bonds with each other.8217;8217;
The federation also helped in the adjustment process. 8216;8216;Four years ago, when we went on a tour to Russia, the IWHF president made the players sit next to her at official dinners so that they wouldn8217;t feel uncomfortable or ignored8217;8217;, says Bose. The gesture was not lost on the players. Says Suraj Lata, 8216;8216;Everyone was charged up for this tournament because we had failed to qualify for the World Cup. We were prepared to overcome everything, including poor umpiring, to win.8217;8217;
She knows about hurdles and overcoming them. Born into a family of six siblings, she credits her mother with backing her enthusiasm. Hockey is immensely popular in Manipur but facilities are poor; players had to share hockey sticks just get a game. Perhaps the practice of rolling substitutions took root here: 8216;8216;There were so many of us waiting to play and too few sticks available. So each one of us played by turns and stayed on the field for only 10-15 minutes. It gave everyone a chance.8217;8217;
At least they play hockey in Manipur. They don8217;t in Durg, which is where Saba Anjum, the baby of the team, comes from. She had another handicap: Her Muslim background. 8216;8216;Many people had objected to my playing hockey, only my brothers supported me8217;8217;, she says, the pride at vindicating them obvious in her voice.
Some problems are, of course, unique to women8217;s sport. Motherhood, and the pressures of family life. Agile goalkeeper Thingolomei Chanu is one of two married members in the team. Her teammates call her moody but that may just be the result of balancing the personal and professional, especially given the large amount of travel involved. 8216;8216;I8217;8217;ve told my husband not to get in my way as long as I8217;m playing8217;8217;, she says gruffly, but with a twinkle in her eye.
Pritam Rani Siwach, the team8217;s main striker, returned to the side team after her son was born in 2000. A member of the silver-winning team at the 1998 Bangkok Asian Games, her top-level career seemed over with parenthood. But her will to compete was fierce; she wanted to win a gold, and trained doubly hard to get back into shape. 8216;8216;I8217;d put on a lot of weight after childbirth and it required strenuous work-outs8217;8217;, she says. 8216;8216;But it was definitely worth it.8217;8217;
Or take the equally commonplace scenario of small town girl in Big City. Mamata Kharab, the team8217;s 8216;golden girl8217; 8212; she scored the golden goal in the final 8212; is a single teen in Mumbai. That8217;s big news when you come from Rohtak but she prefers to see the brighter side. 8216;8216;Life is tough on a meagre Rs 7,000 she works with Western Railways but it comes with a lot of good experiences8217;8217;. Hockey, she says, is a great source of comfort; 8216;8216;playing a team game gave me a feeling of staying with a family, and the coaches treat us like their own children.8217;8217;
Today, these girls know they8217;re in the public eye; they8217;ve been rewarded for their heroics in Manchester, for some time the going will be good. Then they8217;ll go back to being faceless, nameless, non-stars.
There8217;ll be no tantrums, no heartbreaks; they8217;ve been there, done that. All they want is to play the game their way: All for One.