Athletes turned coaches, the bright spot

By the time, his disciples Sushil and Yogeshwar started competing away from home, Satpal had made it a habit that as coach he would scout out Indian families in cities of the competing venues who could provide his charges their staple, no matter what corner of the world.

Satpal Singh, India’s famous wrestling coach, was accustomed to the milk-and-dryfruit concoction thandaai while training all of his early akhada life. However, he suffered massively in his first few international tournaments when he failed to find his usual diet of 10 litres milk and badaam when competing abroad — submitting meekly against even lesser opponents.

By the time, his disciples Sushil and Yogeshwar started competing away from home, Satpal had made it a habit that as coach he would scout out Indian families in cities of the competing venues who could provide his charges their staple, no matter what corner of the world.

This was a coach who wouldn’t allow his wards to suffer. Wrestling fetched two Olympic medals in London, and the minute attention to such details became the sport’s folklore. A handful of India’s ex-athletes are following up their active competition years with careers in coaching, and bringing all their experience to the table. As far as improving the quality of coaching goes, some believe this to be the best way forward.

India’s pistol star from the last deacde Jaspal Rana states it’d be simply unfair to not pass on knowledge athletes have spent so many years to gain. “In pistol shooting, weather, surroundings and technique are things that a coach who’s played at the highest level will know better than someone who has not played at that level.”

For a generation that figured things out by trial-and-error or watch-and-improve, this is the chance to pass on knowledge and the nitty-gritties of competing at the highest level, and spare the next generation the tribulations. “The psychology and the pressure at the highest level and recovery and diet is better known to someone who’s actually been in that sport and played it,” says MK Kaushik, 1980 hockey Olympic champion.

For India’s most-succesful contemporary Olympic sport shooting, this is the time to reap the benefits of the first generation’s struggle. Deepali Deshpande, national junior rifle coach, says, “The coach is always seen as an expert and advisor even by the administration. You can see things from the athlete’s point of view and are also the bridge between the federation and athletes. In shooting, you can’t see anything, it’s all about the feel. And ex-shooter understands that.”

However, success-stories are very few: Satpal and P Gopichand amongst those who have ensured their wards reach the next level. Surprisingly, turning to coaching isn’t the most preferred career move.

Story continues below this ad

“It’s an important career but not one that has been encouraged that often in India,” says Kamlesh Mehta, TT icon. The 53-year-old is adamant that the player-to-coach switch doesn’t come with the same degree of respect in Indian sport. “Saying you’re a coach isn’t as commanding as being an engineer or doctor,” he laments. “The salaries are low. At the end of the day, you have a family to feed,” he adds.

Kaushik elaborates: “They are not really given that much respect in soceity. They say coaches are just someone getting paid for their services. The pay is also not that attractive. Coaches aren’t given credit.”

It’s also a backseat — not the easiest place for athletes who are accustomed to being in command at all times. “As a player, you motivate yourself. As a coach you motivate another, and beyond a point you can’t control the whole situation. You move into an observational role,” Mehta says. Frustrating tales of confronting red-tape when setting up academies and dealing with paperwork are in abundance for players-turned-coaches.

“You train thousands of players and out of them only a few will win medals. When they do that at a higher level, the effort is all worth it,” Jaspal concludes.