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Journalism of Courage
You wish there was a dramatic, even convoluted, long-winding struggling story about how Rahi Sarnobat came to fall in love with the pressure of shooting finals. But there is sadly none. “I love this part of the competition. It’s my favourite, I could’ve shot 4 more shoot-offs,” the freshly minted Asian Games champion in the 25m pistol would say, moments after winning a thriller in which she downed Thailand’s Naphaswan Yanpaiboon 3-2 in the last 5-shot play-off after the two were tied at 34-34 going for gold. “Finals I’ve always been good at, you can call it my mastery,” she would add, exuding confidence.
“Now I have so much experience that if I can’t deal with pressure, then what worth is experience?” she would ask, after clinching India’s first-ever gold for a woman in pistol. Leading throughout the 60 shots of the dozen-series final, except from a brief time between the 35th and 50th hit, Rahi would first ensure a medal in the eliminator.
The Indian 27-year-old trailed 32-34 before the last 5 shots. It’s here that the Thai 30-year-old would drop all shots for a 0/5 and Rahi would clamber back to level the scores at 34-34. Two more 5-shot series would follow – the crowd on its feet as both struck 4 down, forcing a second shoot-off. Rahi would hit 3 bullseye against the Thai’s 2 – both would miss the last shot, and the gold was won.
It was the ideal shooter – spectator interface. Indian followers had their hearts racing, while the shooter herself remained stoic – like she always does. The final had started with two Indians in fact – young Manu Bhaker coming in with a Games record score of 593 in qualification. Rahi sneaked into the Last-8 with a score of 580 as seventh finalist – but knew pretty much immediately that the Finals arena was her home-turf. It’s always been for the last 10 years since she first broke onto the scene as a 18-year-old herself.
“My finals are always better than my qualification. But I like finals because I treat it as a second chance I’ve got to re-do my technique. If I reach a final, it’s like I was meant to get a medal,” she would explain her absolute command over her emotions.
Finals are never bereft of pressure – the immensely talented Manu is learning that and experts reckon she’ll wrap her head around the gameplan sooner than most. But on this day at the Jakabaring shooting range in Palmebang, it was the seasoned finalist’s turn to reclaim an event she once bossed in India.
Asian Games has been a second chance for Rahi in more ways than one. Four years ago, she tripped over a bump on the street and landed awkwardly on her shooting arm in Pune. The damage turned out to be worse than she’d imagined – a crack in the elbow bone and fluid wrecking havoc. She’d continue to play through injury, as the pain worsened. It had felt like the bones were plowing into each other, as she ended up jabbing a couple of cortisones into her elbow to relieve the locked joint.
“For the first time I cried in front of someone. I never cry in front of people, it was embarrassing,” she’d recall, a touch harsh on herself. It wasn’t the pain though. “I was packed off for 7 month rehab when I couldn’t shoot. I just wanted to shoot badly. But all the shooting technique at that point was about how to work around my painful elbow (which had a mind of its own),” she’d say.
It’s after sorting out the logistics of the limbs that she’d reorient her focus – start thinking of the big one, the Olympics. “I didn’t have to prove anything to others,” says the World Cup medallist from 2011 & 2013 at Fort Benning and Changwon, as well as a Commonwealth Games medallist. “I only had to prove to myself, because this is my job – winning medals,” she’d add.
She’s stubbornly serious about that elusive medal for Indian women in shooting. She would insist on Mongolian-German Munkhbayar Dorjsuren as coach, and be willing to spend from her pocket as soon as a trial training stint convinced her the former Olympic medallist and her would hit it off. Off the TOPS funding after her 18-month long forced break, she would go to her funders OGQ and convince them that with the coach, she could improve exponentially.
“My salary won’t be able to afford the coach, I’m using all the cash awards that came from CWG and there’s OGQ,” she laughs, of her job with the Maharashtra state government in the collectors’ office. Still, Rahi is unaccustomed to things not going her way. Coming from a joint family, and as the only daughter amongst a bunch of sons and nephews, the Sarnobats have always indulged the baby of the house. “It’s not possible without them. My mother can stay with me in Pune only because there are others to take care of the house in Kolhapur,” she adds.
The injury was a setback, but it also opened her mind. “Changwon (venue of the Worlds where the first of 2020 Olympics quotas are available) is lucky for me, so I head back there with confidence,” she says. From a happy-go-lucky Pu La Deshpande reader, Rahi Sarnobat is now into reading controversial SL Bhyrappa, a Kannada writer translated into Marathi. “I like what he writes about philosophy and human relations ,” she says. Three of his books travelled with her to Indonesia. On Wednesday though, she aced a final with little to no load on the mind. It’s reaching the finals that’s been a struggle; once there, Rahi Sarnobat reckons her technique has seldom gone wrong. Bring on the dreaded shoot-offs.
