© The Indian Express Pvt Ltd
Tags:
Journalism of Courage
My first memory of meeting Col JS Dhillon sir is coloured by the fact that he was not immediately keen to coach me. It was 1995, and I was young, unproven, and one of the many hopefuls. I remember writing to him, promising that if he agreed to take me, I would be the hardest working student he had. The letter came from a place of complete sincerity. The first meeting, facilitated by our family friend and later Punjab Sports Minister Rana Sodhi, was simple and understated, very much like him. His first lesson was not about shooting technique, but about commitment. He made it clear that talent meant little without discipline, consistency, and respect for the process. I understood on that day that if he was agreeing to coach me, it was conditional on effort, not potential.
In the early days, Dhillon sir managed me with a remarkable mix of firmness and care. I was young, impatient, and eager for quick progress, while he was deeply methodical. Travelling with him and training in Chandigarh taught me what it meant to be a professional even before I understood the word. He paid attention to the smallest details, from punctuality to preparation, and never allowed excuses. What stood out was how calm he always was, even when I struggled. There was an incident early on in my career when I was frustrated with my performance and visibly upset. He quietly told me that emotions were natural, but indiscipline was not. That balance between empathy and expectation defined his coaching. He was shaping a mindset, not just a shooter.
The one learning from Dhillon sir that has stayed with me forever is that excellence is built in silence. You show up, you work hard, you respect your craft, and you let results speak for themselves. His coaching methods were uncompromising in standards but deeply fair. He never demanded more than he himself stood for. Off the shooting range, he was gentle, dignified, and deeply principled. He carried himself with a quiet authority and genuine care for his athletes. He did not seek credit, recognition, or attention. He believed in doing the right thing the right way. That integrity, more than any technical lesson, is his greatest gift to me.
(The writer is India’s first individual Olympic gold medallist. Bindra spoke with Nitin Sharma)
