we r the champions (ii)

(standing (from L to R) - raj, sandeep, senti, prasanna, yahoo, vivek, popa, l2, lp
don't know what he's doing - bobo
kneeling/squatting/sitting (from L to R) - fm, pogo, G, talli, deja, soody/shaggy, shampoo)

i've taken my bows and my curtain calls
you brought me fame and fortune
and everything that goes with it
i thank you all
but it's been no bed of roses
no pleasure cruise
- queen ( we are the champions)

this is the story of the champions. the story of a team that defined what 'winning' is. this is the story of footer@iitm.

footer@iitm began the year riding a wave of confidence. the gold that we brought iit madras after fifteen years was still glowing in the minds of most of the players. with that incredible win on 18th december, 2005, the team had been transformed from a no-star team to, as someone put it, an all-star team!! the team did attract some lavish criticisms for its 'seemingly' defensive tactics which was compared to that of the italian national team. but footeer@iitm was unfazed, and had set out to prove wrong every critic who saw the win as an abberation.

a glimpse of what footer@iitm was capable of was seen in the match against satyabhama in sportsfest. the win was remarkable, not so much for the fact that it brought us silver, as for the manner in which it was achieved. one goal down in a match against a seemingly superior team, the team fought back with a ferocity and confidence that the opponents couldn't cope with. the 2-1 win proved how much fight the team was capable of putting.

sadly, chaos reigned in the run-up to inter-iit with a chunk of the main players opting out of the tournament due to personal reasons. replacements were sought frantically. it was an opportunity for some, and oh boy, did they use it to prove themselves.

the problems were not over when we reached guwahati. it began with a terrible disappointment for me: getting injured in the first quarter of the first match that left me out of the field for the rest of the tournament. players got bogged down by the sudden change in weather - many of them taking ill. and yet, no one was able to stop our march to the final!! the match that we played against kanpur on the way to the final (in the semi-final) was one gritty exhibition of the team's skills and temperament under adverse conditions.

the final against kharagpur was one match whose memories would linger on for years to come.

footer@iitm was, but crippled. i was out because of my fracture, raj because of his anjle injury. yahoo and senti were unfit to play the entire match. what ensued in the next 2 odd hours was totaaal drama.

towards the end of the second half, me, raj, yahoo, senti, popa and vivek (for a funny red card!!) were sitting out. and we were to play with ten men for the rest of the match - a full 40 minutes.
the 10 men team now led by talli with l2 played like champions and not only managed to keep the now weary kgp players at bay, but launched some incisive attacks of our own.

after the extra time was over, the two teams were still in a deadlock with no goals scored from either side. 3 madras - kgp matches had been played in the last 3 inter iit's and all of them had been deadlocks, with no goal scored by either team! the better team had to be determined once and for all.

what unfolded before our eyes was a treat to watch!! iit kgp was decimated in the penalty shoot out with talli, g and prasanna netting in the only 3 penalties tht we needed to take. sandeep, our custodian, was one force to reckon with as he psyched their players to some nervous errors. iitm had achieved an unbelievable and unexpected feat - win gold for the second time, that too with a depleted, 'crippled' team!!!

so, this was the story of footer@iitm. it is incomplete without the memories that each player must have harboured in his own way, and that's the way it will be. suffice to say, it was an experience that culminated in tears of joy for almost all the players. others may see the team in different ways - 2 time gold winners, the team that got lucky, the star team, the ultra defensive team etc etc.

for us who have played for the team, it's different. personally, it was a defining moment in my foooter 'career' and i couldn't have asked for more. having played with and learnt from people like jet li, jimmy, bongi, mallu in the insti and ash from our own hostel for over 3 years, being a part of this winning team was coming of age for me. we had achieved something that had remained elusive to all those whom we have admired. it was a fantastic feeling indeed. i bet it has been one unforgettable experience for everyone involved with footer@iitm.

and finally, the secret. (well, it's not so much of a secret anyway.) iitm's winning strategy consists of 3 fundamental principles or acts which are -

• score and don't concede. could be just 'don't concede'. in the two years that we have been champions, footer@iitm has but conceded just one goal (in 8 matches) which is a remarkable feat in itself.
• listen to 'we are the champions' by queen before the match.
• take the right side of the players arena

ah! to be the champions!!!

p.s. this post is written with my 'un-fractured' hand. so forgive the capitalization (or lack thereof), grammar, etc.

You have two cows (2 cows)

[My tribute to the insti footer team]

Aravind G: He likes colorful cows. You will find him in cow races, cow jumps, or for that matter, any cow event that’s going on right now.

Yahoo! : Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Two cows.
Two cows who?
Moo. Moo.

Talli: Yeh kya haraamipan hai? Two cows ki maa ki ch***. [3 sentences down the line, the content is too ‘mature’ to be printed here!)

Praveen: See, macchaa, the funda of two cows is….(10 minute lecture)

L2[with an arm in slings]: Ek cow ne tang laga di peechhe se, aur ek cow ne dhakka diya.

Popa: Two cows, yaani do gai, two guys, matlab do aadmi..hahaha.

Om, senti: Cow1> what if cow2 scores an own goal? Tab to main kuch kar nahi paunga.
Cow2> (pained to the core and just short of hitting cow1) arre nahi karunga yaar.

Hati papa: Abbe, dono cows ke pair zameen mein ghus gaye the.

Coco: In cowland, these youthful bulls get seduced by despo cow aunties. These aunties with coconut shaped udders like bulls with thundering thighs.

Vivek: Main two cows se milne Delhi jaa raha hun. Shaayad late se aaunga ya bilkul nahi aaunga.

P.S. Can’t think of anything for the rest now.

Two cows - 1

Maria Maria!!

An event that surreptitiously went unnoticed behind the World Cup hungama was this year’s Wimbledon. Even Federer’s outrageous performance, which one journalist claimed to be the best performance on grass since Jimi Hendrix's in the 60’s, escaped the attention it deserved otherwise. What did catch my attention was something else.

There was something about the two women’s finalists. One had muscles, looks and build that had an uncanny resemblance to that of a man. The other, to put it subtly, was flat-chested. It was a dreadful disappointment for a lot of us who had been religiously following the performances of the Sharapova’s and Hantuchova’s and Vaidisova’s.

In the yesteryears, I didn’t care so much for the Monica Seles’s and Sanchez Vicario’s as I did for the Steffi Graf’s and Gabriela Sabatini’s. In recent times, the increasing ubiquity of the Russians in women’s tennis (that has surpassed that of the Baldwin’s in Hollywood) has turned out to be a boon in disguise. They have revived what was thought to be a lost element in women’s tennis – grace and beauty on court, with no concession on talent.

As much as we like to see Sharapova looking her prettiest self, we love to see her decimate her opponents on court with consummate ease. It is the fighter in her that appeals to us, and not her gold accessories, that are, but just accessories. It is when her immaculately placed forehands and neatly spun backhands leave her opponent bewildered that she looks her best. It is when her grunts reach a crescendo that her fans’ lubb-dubb of the heart starts a-thumping.

Strangely, the Sharapova’s and Hantuchova’s do not seem to carry all their grace off-court. In their public appearances, they do not seem to exude the same elegance that they do on court. Their appeal, sexual or otherwise, is limited to the court, and perhaps, rightly so. Though it borders on vulgarity to describe a Sharapova v. Sania match as porn as one over-imaginative blogger did a while back. Kourinikova, not much of a player as she was a teen-model, failed to impress for long. Her elegance (if she had any) never seemed to appear on court. (I won’t be surprised, however, if Herbert Herbert doesn’t agree).

At the end of the day, we want the best to win. Only the best. Is that asking for a lot??

We are the champions, my friend

The scores:
Leagues:
1-0 vs. Delhi
0-0 vs. Kharagpur
Semis:
0-0 (4-3 in penalties) vs. Mumbai
Finals:
1-0 vs. Delhi

We were thus crowned the footer (known as football or soccer to the world outside) champions after a drought of a long 15 years. Oh boy! what a joy it is to be a part of a gold-winning team and what a pride to be a part of a defence that yielded to none. Delhi, you people were good, that’s why we scored against you, but then just not good enough. The week's stay in Roorkee was fun, inside and outside the field. What with the numerous squabbles and fights and some highly competitive matches in other games too. The only crib I have was the stupidly amateurish and ordinary refereeing. It suddenly made me empathize with players who rattle and punch referees during matches. Whatever. We are the champions, my friend! Let me bask in this well-deserved glory for sometime.

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There’s no place like home. It’s not that I dislike other places. In spite of the dusty and potholed roads, the lack or excess of security, the firings and the mindless explosion of bombs (I missed one by 15 minutes this time!!), the complete absence of night-life, internet connections that make the phrase sound like a misplaced oxymoron (which explains my prolonged absence from the world wide web), current that goes off without a whisper of a warning, there’s something about home that’s missing anywhere else. Perhaps the home-made food, or being able to just loll about without caring a damn about anything (as a manner of speaking). And Manipuri winter is the best I’ve ever experienced, very unlike here where I am literally sweating it out. At least for the nonce, I’m indeed quite happy that the nostalgia in me is dead.

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In hindsight, what a fantastic year it has been for me; just didn’t realize how it whizzed past me at such a neck-breaking speed. It’s been fairly interesting in every way – academically, physically, emotionally. And a perfect climax to boot. Thanks to everyone who have made my life such a joy to live. I am blessed. So, bless everyone who’s reading this and bless everyone who is not.

I don’t believe in making new year resolutions and hence, I haven’t made any. I have a wish-list though and it goes something like this-

• Spend a week in a virgin island (preferably Thailand) with someone who I can spend a week in a virgin island with.
• Spend another week touring Europe.
• Watch a Pink Floyd show – LIVE.
• Get a little more academically inclined. (This is a wish-list, remember?)
• Watch all matches of Italy, Brazil and Argentina during the world-cup (I know I’m thinking a little too ahead, but still)

Sorry to my other wishes that couldn’t make it to the list. I’m bound by constraints here. (‘U’ know what I mean)

O dear, I’m so ready to take the new year by its horns!!