Posts Tagged ‘Football’

Cricket: India versus Pakistan: The aftermath of winning and losing

June 26, 2011

Continued… From 30 March, 2011

“India versus Pakistan. The greatest rivalry in the world of sports.”

I thought it rather haughty and cricket-centric of the local papers to proclaim this. After all, we have rivalries in America. The NBA has Lakers-Celtics. College basketball has Duke-North Carolina. Baseball has Yankees-Red Sox. I spent my childhood immersed in the rivalries of every sport, every season. These were prestigious rivalries, deep-rooted in their fans. I knew the fervor with which fans cheered their teams against the archenemy. I knew how much it meant for your favorite team to win those games. And I knew how much it hurt to lose.

Then I watched India and Pakistan play for a spot in the final of the Cricket World Cup.

I now firmly believe there is no rivalry in any sport, anywhere in the world, that means more than India-Pakistan cricket.

India was batting first. Sachin Tendulkar, perhaps the greatest cricketer of this generation, was on strike. Our living room TV had my host family in hypnosis. Every eyeball in the subcontinent was watching every minute of the matchup – at least if not, that’s the impression I got from the silence outside. After ten overs or so, I left home and went to watch the match with some friends in a public location. The streets were devoid of activity. No rickshaw bells or vegetable vendors. No mopeds or cars. No cows – even they seemed preoccupied with the match.

Nothing but coolers and the faint sounds of the match they were obscuring.

Everyone in India was watching. And there are 1.2 billion people in India.

It takes a lot to get India to shut up and shut itself in like this.

It’s not so much what the teams were playing for as the fact that they were playing at all. So the stakes only increased with a matchup against Sri Lanka (who had defeated New Zealand in the other semifinal) in the World Cup final on the line. In a matter of days, the loser might see their most hated rival spraying champagne, at the top of the cricket world. The fans of whichever South Asian team didn’t make the final would certainly become Sri Lanka fans, if only for the day.

It’s precisely this situation – how you feel after the rivalry game – that tells you what a rivalry really means.

Case in point: American football’s 2011 NFC Championship Game.

I am a fan of the Chicago Bears. Not quite a diehard fan – that’s a title I’d reserve for only the Chicago Cubs baseball team – but still a fan enough to follow the team from India. When it comes to American football, I’m a Bears fan, and I was satisfied to learn they’d made it to the final four of the sport’s annual tournament. A berth in the Super Bowl – the sport’s annual championship – was just a win away.

The Bears’ opponent? The Green Bay Packers.

What a win that would have to be.

Bears-Packers is another one of those rivalries that you grow up with as a kid in America. The teams share at least two of their sixteen contests every year, and each matchup means a little more than the other ones. Players give it a little extra when they see the other team’s jerseys across from them. And the fans, I think, root a little harder too.

India doesn’t care much for American football, so of course I had no chance of catching the game live. I logged into ESPN the day after the game with my heart pounding, and found the Super Bowl matchup set.

The Bears weren’t in it.

My heart sank. The Packers had won. America’s biggest sporting event would be played between my favorite team’s rival and a team to which I carried no allegiance – the Steelers. Green Bay had celebrated on our turf, in Chicago. And they would be playing for the biggest championship in the sport, not us.

So who did I root for in the Super Bowl?

The Packers.

Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m just not a big enough fan of the Bears. But there’s something about the Bears-Packers rivalry that goes beyond blind hatred. Fans root against the other team not because they want the other to do poorly, but because they want their own team to do well. When the two clash, the desire to win is intensified. The stakes increase because you want to say your team is better, not that the other team is worse. The rivalry has a subtle, unspoken, mutual respect. For the most part, it has peace.

Giving the Packers my fandom on loan was actually a way of validating the Bears’ loss, as if a Packers championship would make the Bears’ season worth a little more. The Bears’ season was unsalvageable at this point, and the Packers had ended it. That’s exactly why I rooted for the Packers. Why root against them? If you’re going to lose to anybody, you might as well lose to the best team in the sport. And when the Packers won the Super Bowl two weeks later, I felt a measure of redemption from the Bears’ loss. It provided closure.

Would I rather the Bears have been in their place? Of course. But I’m glad the Packers won the Super Bowl.

As India played Pakistan, I wondered which team I’d root for in the final if Pakistan were to win. By the same logic I’d applied to the Packers two months before, it would have to be Pakistan. But I can’t see anyone in India ever rooting for Pakistan, no matter the reason or the circumstances. In India, a Sri Lanka-Pakistan final would be overwhelmingly partisan towards Sri Lanka, geographical proximity of the island irrelevant. A Pakistan win in the final would be just as bad as its preceding loss.

I spent eight hours with my butt on the edge of my seat that day watching India and Pakistan play, wondering if I’d face that dilemma, and hoping I never would. I came home after India’s innings and watched them bowl, hoping the target they’d set would be enough for an India win.

It was.

India beat Pakistan.

Had you not known there was a cricket match going on that day, you might have thought one of India’s many festivals had been deemed to start three hours after sunset. Families, friends and strangers that had been cooped up watching the match all day came outside simultaneously. Firecrackers exploded. Car horns blared. Music and patriotic chants were sung in the streets. Vans became portable discotheques, and the streets became too crowded to navigate except by foot.

Pure, unadulterated jubilation.

I asked my host family what it’s like when India loses to Pakistan.

I’ll guess it’s good that I’ll never have to know.

🙂

To be continued…

Boys soccer: Yoder scores goal in 7-5 win over The Other Team

August 14, 2010

NAGPUR (AIY) –– In spite of muggy conditions and a soggy pitch, high scoring prevailed in this morning’s soccer match, as Chris and Mayank’s Team (CMT) held on for a 7-5 win over The Other Team (TOT) despite being outnumbered six to five.

This was the third such morning game scheduled in the last three weeks. However, Chris missed the first match due to his sleeping so deeply Mayank could not awaken him in time for the match. The second match was canceled due to rain.

Play began at approximately 10 a.m. this morning, with players only informed of the match less than an hour beforehand. Some initial confusion on the division of the teams was easily resolved by an informal pact that gave TOT six players, while CMT took the remaining five.

CMT didn’t seem to be affected by the imbalance, as the game’s informal style suited them well. Player One scored the first goal for CMT just after the game began, kicking the ball between the two rightmost trees on the far end of the pitch. But TOT tied up the score when Player Two easily placed the ball between the stack of bricks and the tree on the near side.

Despite the lack of an official scorer, play continued for nearly an hour, with players keeping track of the score themselves. Both offensive and defensive players showed a tendency to stay close to the ball but not attack it, leading to many offensive opportunities.

With CMT leading 6-4, Chris received a pass at the far end of the pitch with only the goalkeeper able to challenge the shot. However, despite the fact Chris was within two meters of the goal, his shot sailed left by two feet.

After TOT scored their fifth goal, Chris received a second chance. With the ball in a similar position as before, this time Chris did not miss the shot, and the ball cleared the fence behind the goal, bouncing onto the traffic-free street behind the pitch.

Without the sound of a referee’s whistle, play ended around 10:45 due to mutual consensus. Players shook hands, smiled, and went home to take showers.

As of press time, it is unknown whether CMT or TOT will play again. Would the teams be disbanded, Chris’ Other Team (COT) would likely play The Other Other Team (TOOT) in a future match.

This entry is 100 percent nonfiction. If you were confused by this post, you probably haven’t read many articles like this.

🙂

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