Written by Binoo K John
A grand sporting spectacle — a World Cup cricket or football final or the Olympics — serves many functions. Apart from the immediate possibility of a victory or defeat, the event itself serves as a nationalistic unifier and, in case of victory, lodges itself in the collective memory of the winning nation as a symbol of confidence, achievement and a step towards conquering other things. We have seen this in the case of the 1983 World Cup victory to which we hark back frequently as if the victory itself is a fount of youth from which we, as a nation, must sip frequently to achieve more and stretch our boundaries further.
A World Cup victory does this to all countries, but especially to the developing or Third World countries which face constant humiliation of being downgraded in the comity of nations for lack of achievement. In India, where people carry the burden of many identities, a nationally watched event like a cricket World Cup, helps citizens shed all other identities for a brief while and wear just the blue of the Indian jersey. This unifying event is possible only in sport, not even in politics even when a great leader rides in in triumph. If such an event is held in a grand stadium, in this case the biggest cricket stadium in the world, it is all the more spectacular. In case of victory, it is a double achievement: Big win, big stadium, big crowd. The bigness is directly in proportion to national ambition.
Another Third World country went through this cathartic experience recently, when Argentina won the World Cup football tournament in December last year. An estimated 5 million people turned out to greet the victorious Argentina football team in Buenos Aires on their return to the country. Some reports suggested that in its 500 year history such a gathering had not happened in the country. All it required was a few goals on the football field. Sport has that power of unifying people into one group claiming the same cup of glory, though otherwise they are fighting each other. India is, of course, a similar example.
“The truth is that we are liberated by the success of others because their successes show that it can be done,” Peter Hilary, son of Edmund Hilary, wrote about the human urge to conquer Mount Everest. This can easily be applied to sporting victories as well. It is a liberating experience, and spectators and others watching an incredible World Cup final as this one, believe that they have partaken of the victory and so the World Cup is also theirs to hold and remember for ever.
It is a practice for national leaders to be present at such occasions for it is easy to lap up the glory and claim credit for their team’s success. To attach themselves to sporting glories is equivalent to claiming credit for military glories. That is what national leaders live for.
If national glory is a primary task of major sporting events (Olympic medal winners always wrap themselves in the national flag, not the flag of their club), it is also a place to display the might of religion. Most players make the sign of the cross, point to the sky, or sink to the ground in prayer. But a Christian player, a Hindu player and a Muslim player are all merged together in their search for national glory. Here all identities are one. Despite their valorous efforts, sportsmen who are the very specimen of physical might, prefer to give credit to the gods. So there are many philosophies waiting to appropriate a sporting victory.
A sixer does not just soar over the boundary. It soars over many mental boundaries as well. Sports, in its moral avatar, tells us we are one.
The writer is a senior journalist and author, most recently, of Top Game: Winning, Losing and a New Understanding of Sport
