BEING A SPORT

BEING A SPORT

Did you just say Table tennis? No that is no game; real men play troop games you know, the hockey football variety and Rimcollians well they box...... In the worst case maybe the officer like tennis or squash, but for heaven's sake don't even think of indulging in this lowly pursuit while you are in the campus here. This was how I was greeted when I joined the school by one of our seniors; don't exactly recall who that was though. Given my wiry frame all of 29 kgs with 144 cms of height, not having been exposed to any real team games, it was TT where I excelled in fact was sub junior district champion, had played state level so naturally I was quite disappointed at not being able to show off my skills. TT table which adorned the Middle Ante room was a mere show piece, what a shame, so I thought, till my cadet guardian, the Late Ranpreet Singh spotted the TT bat in my box while helping me unpack. He was curious and that gave me some hope.... maybe there was  an outside chance....He too was quite good at it and he shared a little secret that TT was played by stealth well past the lights out time. Ajay Kaila was an accomplice in this act of sacrilege. So there was hope after all......

Our midnight trysts with TT continued for a while, there were some others with whom I got to play, KPS Dhillon, Pratapian, a couple of courses senior, he was good, Aggy, Sanjeev Agarwal, my course mate also came out of the closet. But TT remained a game not worthy of being included in the inter section tourneys. The mid night trysts were interesting while they lasted because of the added incentive of the grubs on offer afterwards which Ajay Kaila very kindly shared with us. Sometimes we even broke open the locks of some kit boxes in the junior dorm and stole some, adding some spice to the adventure.

Soon it was time to get onto something more fauji, the incentives were many, extra diet of Bournvita, eggs and glucose naturally made it even more lucrative. I found that the lightness of weight came in handy when it came to sprints and jumps. It was long jump which saw me finish on the podium because in the runs I was an also ran, what with guys who professed to be 12 and already had the first sprouts on their upper lips. Athletics especially long and triple jumps ensured my perennial supply of extra diet during athletics every year. We had some great athletes with us Salam Santosh Kumar Singh or SSK for short was a giant in the track events Shot putt, Discuss, Javelin the last one carried him on to Delhi University winning him a sports quota seat when he did not make the cut for NDA. District athletics was an annual event which we all awaited quite eagerly, more for the march past than any real sporting activity. The Rimcollians would have guessed it by now, but for the benefit of the under privileged, that was an annual ritual when the lasses of Convent of Jesus and Mary, CJM for short immaculately turned out in red skirts, red shoes and red caps marched past, the Rimcollians cheered on lustily and they reciprocated in equal measure as both the contingents took home the march past trophies to their institutions very proudly. Sadly all this cheering did not result in any real progress on befriending them.

The brush with boxing, I think it was class 2A, having been mesmerised in the first Reunion in Mar 79, with the bonhomie and spirit of the oldies acting as a catalyst, I donned the gloves and in all seriousness started the rigorous practice regimen. The runs to Tapkeshwar temple and the pushups, sit ups for stamina building were par for the course. Medicine ball, why is it called that remains a mystery, I mean what is medicinal about such a heavy leather ball which when thrown at unsuspecting young lads only ends up breaking their nose, but that I thought was a small price to pay for what lay in store. As long as the opponent was the punching bag I was like Mohammed Ali, who "floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee", but when my own Course mate Prashant Gupta was pitted against me in a practice bout in the section, a couple of kgs heavier than me but he had not never displayed any inclination towards any sporting activity boosted my confidence no end. I was sure I will knock the poor devil out in no time thus boosting my chances for the most coveted podium finish in RIMC. We sparred around for a while more shadow boxing than actually connecting anything till the coach cum referee Saumitra Biswas hollered Box or I will knock the s*** out of you both. Prashant swung one wildly which connected with my jaw and ended up breaking my teeth. It was the Nirvana moment for Biswas and me that Boxing sadly was not my cup of tea. The idea of being a hero in the Rimcollians during Boxing also vanished into thin air. I obviously was not boxing types. Suresh Yadav was the only one who did actually get to box and if I am not wrong he even went on to win one odd bout.

Arvinder was the sportsperson of the course, tall and endowed with an athletic build, he was a natural. An excellent cricketer, he found his calling post his stint in the army in the IPL, where after Kings Eleven Punjab and Preity Zinta he has now moved onto Gujarat Lions guiding them onto a spectacular debut in last year's edition of IPL. Hailing from Chandigarh, he boasted of having played with Kapil Dev and Yograj Singh, he could swing the ball; actually dive to hold on to the catches. Those days even Indian team cricketers did not soil their Tinopal whites by indulging in such a lowly activity as diving to hold onto these edges off the bat, which are so routine now. He could pole vault, something which he picked up in school itself when he found there were no takers for this event and went on to win. He was also our star Soccer goalkeeper; his dives saved us may a blush both at section and college level against some formidable opponents such as Col Browns and the Doscos.

Although I did try my hand at hockey and with Yash went on to forge a successful left out right out combination, we both could sprint with the stick in hand, not much of dribbling was required for the wingers as long as you could out run the opponent and slam the ball on top of the D, the job was done. I was the left out, no, not out of the team, but I played as a left winger, as I batted with left. Yes I am a right handed person write with the right, play all racket games with right, even bowl with right but bat left handed, maybe because I was a fan of Salim Durrani (as a kid), the famous all rounder who was a left handed batsman and a heartthrob, he even went onto star in a movie opposite no less than Parveen Babi, but before joining I had only played Tennis ball cricket. The real leather ball version was obviously a different ball game. Firstly the bats were heavy, I could hardly lift them forget about swinging, then the gear, there were no gloves for the poor lefties so we had to make do with the right handed ones only, the pads too were oversized, covering not just our shins and knees but went right up to our groins, running with these on was almost like attempting one in a space suit at 3g (not the mobile one, as in gravitational one). The abdomen guards were a mere formality as most did not have any strings attached and were simply slipped in to protect our vitals. So batting was quite a battle but bowling one could manage, after all I could run fast and swing the arm , so found favour as an opening bowler in the junior section team. The match was played in the field behind the pavilion. We emerged victors against Shivajians, and boy I was a hero that day having got a fiver on debut. Alas it was too good to last, the very next match I was hammered away by Pratapians and found myself out of favour. As we grew up and had some more strength in our arms, we got back to batting as that was the heroic thing to do. I was again good enough to represent the section by the seventh eighth term and did go on to represent the college also on a few occasions in the final term. No blues or blazers but then making it to the team itself was quite an achievement. Getting back to hockey, those days hockey ruled the roost, we had won the world cup in 1975 at Kuala Lumpur and the Olympic Gold in Moscow. Cricket in both the World Cups in 75 and 79 we were the wooden spoons finishing even below Srilanka which did not even have a test playing status then. Sunny Gavaskar had the dubious distinction of scoring just 36 not out in 60 overs; yes the first edition of one day internationals was played in the 60 over format. "Cricket by chance and hockey by dance" was the popular saying, the 82 Asiad and 83 World cup win turned the tide for both the sports, we were mauled 7-1 by arch rivals Pak in Asiad finals in Delhi Shivaji stadium in front of a packed crowd. The Indian hockey team is yet to recover from that shock. The magic combination of Zafar Iqbal and Md Shahid failed us on that proverbial day. Cricket in complete contrast, the underdogs Indians did the unthinkable; upset the reigning champions West Indies and Kapil's Devils as they were christened by the British press brought home the Prudential Cup. The picture of Kapil flanked by the man of the match Jimmy Amarnath in the balcony in Lords is permanently etched in every Indian's memory. Cricket and hockey hold a very special place in the Rimcollians hearts too as these are the two events where old boys and cadets get to show off their talents. Old boys shamelessly cheat year after year with masters being the willing accomplices. Who can forget the contribution of Late Mr V G Nene, Mr RC Singhal and later Mr LN Thakur in declaring the perfectly legitimate deliveries as no balls which ended up dislodging the bails of Gen Jat Verma and their ilk. The cadets even today take it in their stride knowing fully well their time shall come.......

As a youngster, GC days and subsequently as a young 2 Lt when we got an opportunity to attend the reunion, we were only permitted to field, running around trying to hold on to some of those catches still nursing the hangover of the 12th evening, and running the cadets out by hook or by crook. Sure enough we won each time. On the last occasion unfortunately the rain god's had their revenge; it poured and thus denied us oldies the opportunity to wield the bat finally. Later on in life I did play cricket in MCTE Mhow and Defence Services Staff College Wellington. On both the occasions it was forced participation, being an instructor and a Rimcollian one couldn't wriggle out but did acquit myself quite well, scoring a few valuable runs and even taking a few wickets. The tips given by our Adm Officer Maj (later Col) Hirak Sen and Mr Nene who was the master in charge Cricket, to keep a straight bat has remained with us, not just in cricket but also in life. A straight bat has blunted many a swingers and googlies in later years. The uneven bounce off those green mats taught us to be on our guard always and helped us weather quite a few storms in our professional lives.

Before I get more philosophical I must share with you my exploits in the racket games, where I did excel in later years. I was all of eleven and a half, fascinated by Tennis, a fan of Mc Enroe the maverick genius, watching the Commandant Lt Col (later Maj Gen) DK Chawla and our RMO Dr JS Bhatti aka Jhatka on the Tennis court which was right next to our class, just before evening preps. The Commandant called me one day and asked me if I was keen to play, I nodded and he called the sports dealer and got me a racket for my size, Hitway, I presume it was some Jallandhar based sports company. I did pick up a decent bit of Tennis while in school but it actually paved the way for my picking up squash later. The squash bug bit me sometime in seventh or eighth term and like the TT midnight escapades, we started playing squash at all odd hours, jumping from the spectators' gallery to open the doors, being from Chandragupta section helped as we were in close proximity. Those wooden Masters rackets and yellow dot Dunlop balls became a permanent accompaniment in the days to come. Both in NDA and IMA I represented the academy and later represented Signals in Triangular Sports meet also. Squash was my saviour especially in NDA second term, as I managed to skip quite a few sessions in the garb of Academy team practices. More often than not we first completed our quota of sleep and then it was Shyamlal, our coach's turn to make us sweat it out. Once in my second term I was playing against AS Shekhawat in inter squadron matches, with a 2-0 lead I thought I had the game in my pocket, little realising the resilience of the wily old horse, in the interlude after the second game he said he was the SCC and losing 3-0 would be terribly embarrassing for him that too against a piddly second termer, he said that I should let him win at least one game as a face saver. Taken in by his sweet talk, I relaxed a bit and then he just hammered away to a 3-2 victory, leaving me in tears and tatters. It was Atul Sahni my squadron squash captain's turn now and boy was he mad............. I think first time in the history of RIMC a Rimcollian took a session of another Rimcollian. I asked for it, so I couldn't even crib. A lesson well learnt never again did I show any mercy towards any opponent ever after.

I hated running, and am quite sure I speak for many of us, shammers that we are, I hated it so much that I would run really fast to get it over with. I had a strange logic that the less number of practice runs I undertake the better my enclosure would be, two practice runs got me into second but nobody let me try that one final run, else I am sure I would have ended up amongst the medallists. Notwithstanding, I had the privilege of participating in the Inaugural Pune International Marathon, not because I was too good, it just goes to show, that the others were even bigger shammers, so it fell upon me to do the honours.

Trekking and mountaineering are amongst the best adventure activities, which we pursued in school, we all are very nostalgic about Kalsi, Chakrata, Dhanaulti, and of course  cycle expedition to Chandigarh, Rishikesh. A course at HMI Darjeeling was keenly sought after for class 4A, and that was one real feather in my cap, I had the unique distinction of  I probably being the first Rimcollian to get the best cadet of the course, and had the privilege of being graduated under the Gods of mountaineering Tenzing Norgay and Nawang Gombu themselves. Incidentally Col DK Khullar, an Everester himself and a Rimcollian was the Principal then. The only sad part was that for the 7-8 events, which I had won prizes for, I was rewarded with; hold your breath,” ladies purses". Imagine my shock, the joy of winning have way to a despondent feeling, girls purses, what will my friends say, I will be the butt of all the jokes. So mustering all my courage I walked up to the Principal with deep indignation at this cruel joke being played on me. He simply smiled and said these are left overs from the previous all girls course. As the next girls’ course was not scheduled in the near future, they were only getting rid of dead stock. Fortunately, at that very moment the All India Radio Kurseong correspondent, who had come to cover our graduation ceremony started to interview me, this restoring my dignity (!)

There were two disciplines which I just couldn't get the hang of, the first one was swimming and second basket ball. I was a stone sinker when I joined and could barely splash my way to the other end of the pool to pass the mandatory test by the time we signed off. The first encounter was quite funny though, jumping from the 3metre board in my very first encounter, God knows why, who was I trying to impress (?) and being rescued by the PT ustaad.

The two and a half step layup was absolutely beyond me and kept me away from the courts in school. But on joining the unit, where basketball is a very popular troop sport, I picked it up. Along with that came the injuries as part of the package. In fact I am so injury prone that I just have to enter the sports arena and end up breaking a bone or two. It all started with my wrist which gave way in NDA wing Ghorpuri itself while attempting to play 7th the string football fully drenched and in mud & slush which was supposed to be a football ground. I was down for six weeks with a plaster. The injured wrist put paid to all my ambitions in other sporting activities. Then I tore my knee ligament playing basketball in the unit and once again it was six weeks of POP.  Even in innocuous sports like squash, my opponents ensured that they slashed the racket wildly to scare me and ended up almost taking my eye with it. In the ground I am like a man possessed I can only see the ball and the basket and naturally end up banging into even very stationary poles.

My very frequent escapades with the limbs have made me half an orthopaedic as it is, knees; shoulder, ankle, wrist, Achilles tendon and what have you. If that was not enough, a bout of appendicitis and Bell's palsy have  made me a well rounded patient, who has  had the privilege of being nursed  by our very own Florences in almost all the stations where I was posted. The sad part was that none of them ever took any interest in my sad stories. The only way to save myself from all these injuries and to maintain my SHAPE1 profile I had to finally say adios to these adrenaline pumping spirited pursuits for a more sedate round of golf. Though I am always on the lookout as the odd golf ball may just end up on some part of the anatomy to keep the record straight.