There is plenty of doom and gloom in India regarding the Rio Olympics. In a matter of days, we’ve gone from “double-digit medals, here we come!” to “oh god, I’ll fast for a month, I’ll do 100 headstands a day, can we at least win one medal?”
Our medal predictions have been ripped apart. Where we once expected celebration, there’s only introspection. Disappointment has been widespread — often conveyed in a crass manner — while joy hasn’t been easy to find.
At least the men’s hockey team has been a source of immense pride. Or at least it was, until a 2-2 draw versus low-ranked Canada undid the week’s good work. India’s lack of focus and cutting edge against Canada, a team beaten by all other opponents, allowed Argentina to grab third place in Group B.
This means coach Roelant Oltmans’ men will have to face Belgium — the tournament’s best team and winners of Group A — in Sunday’s (August 14) quarterfinal, instead of taking on Spain. It’s going to be an extremely difficult contest and there’s a good chance that India will exit before the semis.
India plays Germany at the Rio Olympics 2016. |
But this hockey team isn’t solely about medals and victories; however much the casual fan, who wakes up in the morning and checks the result, wants it to be. It is about the intangibles as well. It is about a sense of togetherness both on and off the pitch — something that has so often been missing in Indian hockey. It’s about placing the interests of the team above everything else.
With four captains in the Indian squad, this unit, woven together by Oltmans, is challenging the norms of hierarchy in a nation obsessed with the chain of command. Along the way, it is also teaching its sports fraternity — composed of sportspersons, administrators, politicians, fans and journalists — a unique lesson in team spirit and shared responsibility.
Sardar Singh had the captain’s armband for the opening game against Ireland before it was handed over to SV Sunil and VR Raghunath for matches against Germany and Argentina respectively. PR Sreejesh, the squad’s official captain, finally led the side against Netherlands before the armband was once again returned to Sardar for the final fixture against Canada.
Sreejesh, the only goalkeeper in the squad, wouldn’t have worn the armband anyway since a few rules of hockey penalise the captain for the transgression of his teammates. Nonetheless, prior to flying out, he had mentioned that “he won’t be the only captain” in Rio.
When Oltmans had first insisted that the captaincy will be split and his side will have multiple leaders, his words, you felt, were simply spoken to comfort Sardar.
Right before the Olympics, Sardar, leader of the team since 2012, was stripped of his captaincy owing to poor form on the pitch and personal issues off it.
But the coach has stayed true to his word. He believed that the captaincy was weighing down on the Haryana-born midfielder and in the absence of it, “he would play much better Olympic games” — which has proven to be prophetic. It also made sense to take him away from the cameras for a while.
Oltmans explained how a captain in hockey — even if a big deal in India owing to the sport’s legacy — simply isn’t as important as in, say, cricket where the skipper decides the strategy.
“(Sreejesh) is a nice man, but I decide strategy,” the coach declared. The Dutchman is a proponent of equal and individual responsibilities within the team. His philosophy refutes the need to “turn to the leader who has to (then) supply the solutions”. His methods preach collective responsibility.
It has rubbed off on the team. There have been no controversies, a ritual of Indian hockey, and no voices of discontent, unlike during London 2012.
The team has been fluent on the pitch, rotating like clockwork and covering for each other. It has enabled India to go toe-to-toe with full-strength teams from Germany and Netherlands for the first time in years, even if it ended in agonisingly close and undeserving defeats.
Captaincy, and speculation around it, has often played a disruptive role in Indian sport — and especially Indian hockey. Forwards Dhanraj Pillay and Baljit Singh Dhillon turned foes tussling for it in the late 1990s. Pargat Singh, who shouldn’t have been in the 1996 Atlanta Olympics squad in the first place, was selected as captain owing to pressure from the federation — an unnecessary distraction.
Of late, incessant questions about the cricket team’s captaincy have plagued Virat Kohli and MS Dhoni’s careers; journalists spending the entire 2015-'16 season speculating on it. Greg Chappell and Sourav Ganguly could’ve still been friends. Sachin Tendulkar, a failed skipper, could’ve done with shared responsibility. The women’s hockey team would have benefited from multiple captains too; its skipper, Ritu Rani, was omitted from the squad a few days ahead of the Olympics.
Oltmans had planned this well in advance. He had worked on forming a group of captains and tested it in previous tournaments. His foresight truly is one to savour. In a land obsessed with individuals — both heroes and villains — and functioning on the values of hierarchy and bureaucracy that trickle down to sport as well, the Dutchman and his group of players are teaching India lessons about both sport and life.