Sunil Chhetri's social media is peaking, but what does FIFA World Cup mean for Indian football?
As someone who has watched and written about Indian football for almost a decade now, Sunil Chhetri's social media takeover over the past week has been a highly engaging watch. At different points of time, it has also been exasperating.
The gist of our captain's message was simple: "Judge us, abuse us, but please for god's sake at least come and watch us."
This is nothing but a small plea from me to you. Take out a little time and give me a listen. pic.twitter.com/fcOA3qPH8i
— Sunil Chhetri (@chetrisunil11) June 2, 2018
Good point?
The exasperating bit starts now. India's football captain, a man with a 100 caps for his country and as many goals as Lionel Messi in international football, made this request to his 25 lakh followers, to come fill a tiny 7,000-seater stadium in Mumbai.
That discrepancy of numbers is typical of our time. It is a firm indication of what the truth of Indian football actually is. Lots of lip service. Very little mettle. It is socially cool to "share" and "like" emotional messages like this, but when it's time to turn the real to virtual, the stark truth appears. Dozens of Mumbai's burgeoning film fraternity urged their followers to listen to Chhetri, endorsed it and tweeted their support. When it came to going for the game though, only Abhishek Bachchan, who owns the ISL team Chennaiyin FC, turned up. The hypocrisy is also cool.
But at least there was lip service. Some don't even do them that favour. And then of course there is the other extreme. The stupidly arguing editorials, which blame the empty stadiums and the lack of fans on a "season-long fatigue of watching the European leagues" and then waiting for Russia. That blame the Indian fans apathy towards Indian football for "its mediocrity". Chhetri never argues this point. In fact, he encourages it. He asks fans of European football, those die-hard supporters of teams thousands of kilometres away from them, to also spare a thought for the team right here, next door, banging away on your television screen for airtime. "Please come and abuse us he says. But at least watch us."
"Meri Doosri Country" is the broadcaster tagline for India's World Cup watching audience.
In another world, with the ever so slight tweaking of mindset, this could be anti-national. No? A young Kashmiri Muslim boy supporting Saudi Arabia. #MeriDoosriCountry. But why doosri country? Because you don't have time for yours. Not 90 minutes every weekend to waste on watching some lovely, lower league football, that you can actually relate to. Because the team is from a city that you can actually visit, not get heckled in, or stared at — all for the gloriously cheap price of local travel. Blame for this must also, of course, go to the management.
They are geniuses for having decided to host the tournament in Mumbai, in June. And geniuses for hosting their best player ever's centennial match on a waterlogged pitch in a 7,000-seater stadium.
There is no incentive for an Indian fan to watch Indian football — a common complaint. Quality of the game aside, the All India Football Federation (AIFF) has done next to nothing to actually, legitimately, promote the game in India.
Where are the incessant billboards that the IPL (and the ISL) spend their lakhs on? And of course the scheduling. The final played between India and Kenya (India won 2-0 courtesy of goals by, well, you know who) started an hour into the Roland Garros final. While the football fanatic will no doubt pass over Nadal, how about trying to convert the casual surfer?
But then this is the same management which needs to be cajoled into increasing match allowances and providing the team with formal suits when they travel to play games. (In October 2017, a delegation of layers, marshalled by Chhetri, travelled to meet AIFF general secretary Kushal Das, regarding this).
Unlike our cricketers, footballers do not operate under the safety of a central contract. Their salaries are played by their clubs. AIFF takes care of them when they are with the national team, and pays them a stipend of Rs 600 a day. The delegation, apparently, asked for this to be increased to Rs 1,000 per day. All this while a league busts a crore on PR activities. Will the ISL please stand up?
The Football Players' Association of India (FPAI), the body supposed to protect and represent the interest of professional footballers in India, has not yet been recognised by the AIFF. Since its creation in 2006, they have taken up several cases — contracts, non-payment, injury clauses — and helped players with them. In the absence of official recognition though, players are often enough left to their own devices. They are denied basic rights as skilled workers selling their services in the market of sport.
The bottom line is this. India is buying a World Cup dream without actually wanting to invest in one. This isn't a builder apartment. You are responsible to erect this palace.
The cleanest metaphor for this is the Viking clap.
Die-hard Indian fans (inspired by the West Block Blues no doubt) usually applaud the Indian team, thus, when they win. The Viking clap is an Icelandic tradition. In Russia, Iceland will become the smallest nation to ever participate in a World Cup. The clap is great, and it deserves to be there at the World Cup. Now let us see how it got there.