Mohun Bagan Win the League

Champions of India. Mohun Bagan celebrates its league victory. Photograph – NDTV Sports

Mohun Bagan has always loved the big stage.
The National Club of India, the first Indian club ever to beat a European team back in 1911, the club that has united generations of football lovers, the club that shares almost the entirety of Bengali football glory with its great rivals East Bengal, is back in the limelight. As Mohun Bagan lifted the I-League trophy for the first time in thirteen long years, thus becoming the best club in the nation once again, a million hearts erupted in joy. 

Kolkata, once again, is the footballing powerhouse of the nation. East Bengal finished second in the league last year, Atletico de Kolkata brought home the inaugural ISL trophy, and now Mohun Bagan have clinched the league that has eluded the city since East Bengal last won it back in 2004.

In what has to be the most euphoric moment of a teenage Mohun Bagan fan’s life, I caught up with one of the most passionate Green-and-Maroon supporters I know. Arinjay Ghosh, a regular at the Salt Lake stadium to cheer the Mariners to victory, talked about the wave of emotions his entire family went through after a historic night in the context of Kolkata’s football circuit. Here’s what he had to say.

“For our generation of Mohun Bagan fans, this was the greatest day in history. 

We were too young to celebrate with Chima Okeri’s team from 1998. We had not seen the magician Barreto from 2000 and 2002. I come from a family where people bleed green and maroon. My maternal grandfather used to travel 5 hours on matchday to watch the team play. My father had been a season ticket holder. They have seen the highs and lows of the club.

I have been supporting Mohun Bagan for the past 10 years and I have not seen the greats my father and grandfather talk about. I have not even seen Barreto in the pink of his game. For 10 years I have mostly returned from the stadium sad and disappointed. We did not have a trophy to show since 2009. In this phase, the team got banned from the I League. In this phase, the team could hardly buy a victory against bitter rivals, East Bengal. We had become a laughing stock. The tag of National Club had become a joke. But through all of it, we stood by our team and went to the stadium every time to cheer our hearts and lungs out. So yesterday was a chance to not only bring glory back to Mohun Bagan and our longing hearts but also to football in Bengal as a whole. There used to be a time, when Mohun Bagan and East Bengal annexed the top two positions and the rest of the teams fought for third place. But for over a decade, Goa and then Bangalore had become the powerhouses. Kolkata football had become the stuff of our previous generations. Even yesterday, for a long time things did not go as expected and we fell behind. I had heard stories about how the odds were stacked against us back in 1998 and 2002. With a glisten in his eyes, pride in his heart and hopefulness in his voice, my father said, “We always come back. In 1998 it was the Nigerain, Chima and in 2002 it was the Nigerian Abdul Saliu.”

But this time it had to be either a Japenese, a Haitian, a Cameroonian or an Indian for the only Nigerian in the team was back defending. We trailed for long and by the 85th minute, thoughts of previous failures kept haunting my mind and the Mohun Bagan fan in me was preparing myself for another year of pain but somewhere deep down the Manchester United fan kept believing and the famous words of Clive Tyldesley from 1999 final when Beckham was going up to take the first corner of injury time kept playing in my mind, “Can they score? They always score.”

Sony Norde has been impressive all season. Photograph – Zee news India

In the 87th minute, Sony Norde got a corner from the similar left hand side. He floated in a ball into the 6 yard box and as fate would have it, the only Nigerian on the pitch rose like a pheonix directly into Mohun Bagan folklore. I cannot tell you what happened next, neither can my father nor can my uncle who came back 3 days prior to his schedule from the U.S. in time to catch this match, for we were all in tears. We hugged each other and I did not want to let go. They had seen every previous championship victory.  For me this was the first. I ran throughout my entire locality with fellow passionate supporters. All of us then went to the Mohun Bagan area in Shyambazar. We were bathed in green and maroon.
The victory was not just the washing away of 13 years of agony, it was the return of Kolkata football in the National stage. This was one moment in time that a generation will not forget. And yet again it was an Indian coach and yet again on the final day of the season, it was a Nigerian.

Thank you Bello. Thank you Debjit Majumdar. Thank you Sanjoy Sen. Thank you Mohun Bagan.
The tears drops are still fresh and the emotions still high. This will take some time to sink in.

Football, Bloody Hell!”

Mohun Bagan fans at the Kantareeva, Bangalore. Photograph – www.sportskeeda.com

Let’s Football

The Salt Lake Stadium in Kolkata lights up during the Opening Ceremony of the inaugural Hero Indian Super League. Photograph – DNAIndia

The Indian Super League is here, and off to a flying start. The much-awaited football tournament, consisting of eight newly-formed teams, is set to become a part of the sport’s annual calendar with its two-month-long inaugural season garnering more popularity than ever anticipated. With bollywood personalities owning various teams, and cricket legends Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly doing their bit to promote the game, the glamour behind the tournament was never in doubt. The stupendous amount of revenue invested in every team too is an indicator of the sort of popularity this League was earmarked to achieve. With an average 15 crore rupees being the annual franchise cost, this league has got the economic backing that so many other Indian leagues in other sports did not.

Football has always been a point of passion for the Indian youth. Photograph – Aishwarya Das

The razzmatazz associated with the Indian Super League has further been accentuated by the influx of marquee players – players who have featured in prominent games for club and country, and have won the highest of honours in the game. Even a couple of years ago, the prospect of watching the likes of Alessandro Del Piero, David Trezeguet, Robert Pires, Juan Capdevilla, Luis Garcia, David James or Nicolas Anelka playing on Indian soil would have been unthinkable. These players, though well past their prime, undoubtedly still retain enough of a reputation to fill a stadium simply on their own accord.

The owners of the Kolkata franchise pose with Atletico de Kolkata shirts. Photograph – ExPin

The League was created, as the organisers have repeatedly mentioned, with the purpose of a “new dawn in Indian football.” Its objective is to raise the bar and improve footballing levels amongst the emerging Indian players, and to give them the exposure needed for their development. Many have raised questions about why this monetary backing was not provided to the existing Indian football clubs competing in the I-League. What happens now to these comparatively cash-stripped clubs of the Indian first division? Are we going to allow these clubs steeped in history to die a slow death, because our new clubs are flashier? Was there really any basis for creating a new league in the first place?

Like it or not, the ISL is here to stay. This is the face of modern football – consisting of marketability, economic viability, star attractions, and above all a higher standard of the game. While the requirement of the league may be debated upon, there is no denying that spending time with a Del Piero or a Luis Garcia can only be helpful for a young Indian footballer. Let’s hope the ISL brings about a marked improvement in the standard of football that Indian audiences are used to expecting. Most importantly, let’s hope India becomes a force to reckon with as far as the beautiful game is concerned, in the days to come.

C’mon India. Let’s Football.

A promotional banner for the Hero Indian Super League

All The World’s a Cup

It’s here, it’s here! Speeding towards our collective brains like The Flash on steroids, the FIFA World Cup is here to unleash some glorious fanaticism, thus making it okay for a straight man to say stuff like “Cristiano’s ball-control is sexy.”

This is also the time you get to see the true colours of India – i.e. whether you unfurl the flag of Spain or Germany or Brazil or some other country whose only memory of India is a study in mismanagement. But enough about the Parliament.

This is a tournament I intend to follow day in and day out with all the dedication of a Facebook stalker, allocating vital portions of my brain to trivia, such as the number of assists provided by one Xherdan Shaqiri, who is either a Swiss midfielder or an imaginary childhood friend that I made up because I know nobody whose name starts with X and who is not Chinese.

After having survived the eargasm and consequent aural rape of vuvuzelas in the previous edition of the FIFA World Cup, its time for some Samba. Expect colour, expect loudness, and maybe expect Shah Rukh Khan expressing his desire to buy a country’s football team or so. But above all, expect yourself Tom Cruise-ing your sofa while watching 22 sweaty mean run after one ball.

The FIFA World Cup is here. The greatest show on the planet. Also the most watched event by Indians, if you ignore the Cricket World Cup, the Cricket World T20, the Indian Premier League, the Ranji Trophy, the Bangladesh Premier League, the College T20 Cup, the Inter School T20 Cup, the T20 Cup for the homeless, and search results for “Virat Kohli hot pixxx”.

I kid you, of course. There’s also the Sri Lanka Premier League.

That’s enough  with the jokes. Time to go kick some balls. Or watch the same on TV. Here’s wishing whatever foreign nationality you root for emerges victorious, thus giving you a sense of fulfillment that India never could.

Let it rain

“Into each life some rain must fall” – H.W. Longfellow.

Through the looking glass | www.anirbansaha.com

There is just something about the sight, sounds and smell of raindrops falling from the sky that appeals to the senses more than any other natural phenomenon ever can. Rains make you realize the wealth of emotions that you carry. Rains make you introspect and retrospect, and bring you closer to understanding yourself. Put very simply, rains make you happy.

After braving the tumultuous heat of the Great Indian Summer, the rains come with a cathartic appeal – helping you transcend your dilapidated state both physically and mentally. The rains are nature’s way of asking you to let go. Let go of the soggy grimness that accompanied your summer. Let go of the exhaustion in your mind and in your limbs. Let go of your inhibitions and rise again, for the rains have washed away the sorrows of yesterday.

Feel the tingling beauty of a raindrop on your eye. Picture : Saikat Bhadra

On a personal note, rains are what I had been waiting for, even as I saw the mercury rise to over forty-one degrees. The exalting pleasure of playing football in the rain remains unparalleled. Just the sheer happiness in feeling the skies open up to bathe me in the purest form of water, brings with it a sensation of glory, of oneness with the world around me. For in the rain, everyone is equally exposed – the leaves of the trees around me, the grass beneath my feet, the person standing next to me. The downpour reminds me of her, and I seem to fall in love all over again. The rains bring people together in a harmonious rebellion, much like the clouds – taking over my spirit, rejuvenating my thoughts.

Rain is a mode of psychological cleansing. Our negativity is drained out and washed away along with the first shower of heavy droplets. The rains are about overcoming the brazen intensity of summer, the melancholy of dark overcast skies, and the decadence of barren lifelessness. The rains signal a fresh beginning, a new life with new enthusiasm and infused vigour.

Calcutta after a heavy downpour. Picture : Saikat Bhadra

So pay heed to the cry of nature. This time, get out of your sundry houses and feel the rain wash off your fears. Feel the coolness of a drop of water on your face, a drop on your open palm. This time, set yourself free – as free as the birds that chirp in celebration of the onset of monsoons. Feel the water gently kiss your skin. Feel the liberation of dancing amidst raindrops. Feel the pleasure of looking into her rain-soaked eyes, and finding love. Above all, feel happy. That’s what its all about.

An overcast Calcutta evening. Picture: Rupsha Bhadra.

Pictures: Anirban Saha (www.anirbansaha.com)
              Saikat Bhadra and Rupsha Bhadra