The Euro Cup just got over and the lull is almost painful. Since I don’t believe in football clubs, my only real salvation is the World Cup and the UEFA championship or the occasional Olympics Football matches. I am not too partial with the Olympics, they seem to be cursed for the Brazilians and if the Brazilians aint winnin’, I aint watchin’. Every 2 years there seems to be a higher purpose in life, something beyond work, home and family. Not necessarily undermining the important things in life but taking precedent for the time being. That ‘higher purpose’ for me is ‘football’, I like calling it soccer though, people still think ‘American football’ actually deserves to be called ‘football’ at all! Soccer is the epitome of what I think people ought to be – forward, tough, pushy, relentless, passionate, focused, patriotic, charged, co-dependent and all those wonderful things only seen in a game of football. The exact moment to notice all these feelings is when a goal is scored. Players embrace each other like blood brothers, they cry without shame, they kiss the earth and imagine their motherlands, and it is all so raw and so pure.
Soccer and I started a romance as early as the age of 6, way back in ’82, when televisions were still black and white and stood on ornate wrought iron stands; I remember that some even had wooden shutters. It was summer outside and my dad had decided that I would actually remain awake to watch the matches with him, much to my mother’s disdain. I was already a hyper and mildly violent child; she didn’t need for me to see more hysteria. It was held in Spain that year, a Spanish fruit was the mascot and Netherlands didn’t qualify, those were the two memories that never left me. 25 years on, I am not half as hyper or even slightly violent, I guess that’s one place my mother was wrong, what I am is – persevering, disciplined, ambitious, passionate, patriotic and very proud! Most of that has come from soccer. These days my dearest friend’s son plays football, he is all of 10 but the wisdom that boy exudes has to come from an innate confidence that not all children have. Anant plays for ‘Shimla Youngs’, how I love that name! How wonderful it must be to certify your youth. I have seen this boy blossom in front of my eyes. There is heaviness in his voice that doesn’t come from testosterone, there is a spring in his gait that doesn’t come from nonchalance and most of all there is a ‘nose up in the air’ pride that seems so becoming of ambitious young boys. All these traits are developed from Soccer, I am sure of it. This can be seen in children all over our city but not all kids have such noble reasons for being uppity. Let this be a lesson for us. If the kids must walk proud, the pride ought to come from personal achievements and not the car their father drives. If the kids must talk heavy, it ought to be because they know what they are saying and not because their cantankerous mothers are standing behind them.
Let’s empower our kids. Give them voices with a cause, a purpose, a passion. So whether you have a son or a daughter, sports have to be a part of their lives. Just the way reading is promoted, I wish sports were too. The learning is so unique, no instrument or art can replace team sports. I encourage you to pick schools that promote a sports culture, I urge you to emphasize the need for ESPN over MTV, I beg you to move on from frivolous, urban trends and go back to the good old days of PT. We are all in the era of fast foods, fast friends and fast lives, slow your kids down, hand them a bat, a ball, a racket or just lead them to a swimming pool and let the natural sports person in your child break free!
