The Second Best? No, the Best!

Somewhere in September last year, I asked my football playing son if he would be interested to watch Leicester play tonight. He turned to me quizzically, his eyes almost saying, “Are you insane”, or “poor old man, he does not know his football!”, and told me that he would prefer to watch Schalke play instead, suggesting that I have a poor FQ.    

Yesterday, when I stayed home from going to a party, he asked, why I had skipped the party. I told him I wanted to watch Leicester play Swansea, he stayed with me, and together we watched “Mahrez the magician” score the first goal.

Back then in September, when I told him Leicester was likely to win the Premier League, he had no doubt in his mind that his father was into his lunatic fantasising mood. He asked, Leicester? I never heard of it? You should not pity his football reading. Who in “IPL India” had heard of Leicester back in September? Forget Indians, even Riyad Mahrez, it seems had not heard of Leicester City before he joined them from Le Havre, a second division French club. Even Leicester’s own “God” Garry Lineker did not believe the team could stay afloat in the Premier League, and had vowed to present himself in his underpants at the BBC show if the club wins the Premiership League title.

Last night, as we were celebrating the third goal that sealed the match almost, he made some calculation and told me that if I had put 1000 bucks on Leicester winning the Premier League then, I would have been richer by 2.6 million!

Last Sunday against the West Ham United I was a little tense after Jamie Vardy being sent-off. Waves after waves of the WHU were soaked in by Wes Morgan, Huth & Co, and then that happened: two goals in spate of two minutes or so. Is the fairytale going to have a sour end? Is Leicester going to be the “second best", behind Tottenham Hotspur? Though doubts were sneaking in, heart was not willing to yield.

There is history with their manager Claudio Ranieri, the tinkerman being derided for “always coming second”. In 2004, he led Chelsea to be second best behind Arsenal, and three other occasions, his team had finished runners up.

Then last season the foxes were certain to be relegated but survived. In the match against West Ham, Vardy was sent off at 57 minute, and playing with ten players, a penalty was awarded against Wes Morgan. Two minutes later Cresswell scored at 86 minute and all the talk shifted to the refereeing, the next match with Swansea, and perhaps it was inevitable that foxes’ run had come to an end.

But it did not, and the spirit with which Leicester salvaged a point with ten men for more than 35 minutes, it reflected about the resilience of the club. It also reflected on the hunger, and the point that has missed many a pundits, and often repeated by commentators, is how well the parts move in anticipation of the moves of their colleagues. Before he was send off, Vardy had completed a grand move that started from West Ham earning a corner. Kasper collected the ball, and threw the ball immediately in the empty space where Riyad Mahrez appeared from nowhere. As he was having a “rain dance” around the West Ham players before deftly passing on to N’Golo Kante, Shinji Okazaki crossed from left to right at breathtaking speed selling a dummy and drawing along with him Noble. That created space at the left, and Vardy moved the ball in that comfortable space and banged the net. That was a perfect synchronisation. This synchronisation, often called as unselfishness of the Foxes players, make you believe that the “end” prophesied by many would be delayed eternally for this team of foxes. Is that illusion?                             

On Sunday, Ranieri looked a wily fox himself. Before the match with Swansea, with the best forward suspended for the match and perhaps an extended ban for improper conduct, what he said was clear message to confuse the strategist at the other end. It was widely reported that Ulloa was sure to start in place of Vardy. But he said Leo was good to be in the team but before him there was the team, and if needed he would change one player or the entire system. It was a master stroke. Then on the eve of the match, he told Spurs manager to wait for another year to get the coveted Premier League title. This, one the one hand suggested the confidence the manager had despite his top scorer unavailable for the match. It also hinted at the change in strategy, and how confident was he about that strategy being implemented by his troop of players.

And the strategy was very much discernible. After Riyad Mahrez scored the first goal, the team instead of sitting deep and defending, was very much on the prowl for the second goal. Raneiri was seen directing his defending line to move upfront, and he had a distinct game plan was very much evident.

After demolishing Swansea there is only one obstacle between the Foxes and the title: Tottenham Hotspur; and they are not playing each other for the rest of the season. Three more matches for the Foxes, and counting today’s match, four for the Spurs. The pressure will certainly be on Spurs, and especially Harry Kane. With Stoke match, it was different; the Foxes had barely managed to draw earlier; Vardy was banned for the next match, and likely to be facing an extended ban. There was little pressure then; on the contrary, there was a sense of recognition: Harry Kane was leading the tables, he was a leading contender of the PFA Player of the Year award, and the “Lions” were roaring to prowl the foxes.

But now with Leicester winning four nil and making a statement in the absence of Jamie Vardy, the pressure shift has arrived. Add to it Riyad Mahrez wining the PFA Player of the Year Award yesterday rubbing on Harry Kane, one of the six shortlisted players, and the top scorer in the league, the wrong way. There could be clumsiness in his movement with the missed chance weighing heavily on his mind. His manager was sure it was Kane (with 24 goals this season) and not Vardy (22 goals this season) going to lift the prestigious trophy (in the end it was Riyad Mahrez). But the manager had banned the players to take part in the grand occasion. This means the players were put on an extended pressure cooker till the match with West Brom Albion. This could make them stiff and nervy, and tonight that obstacle could break on it’s own.      

 
Whether that happens tonight or not, whether the team fails to beat Manchester United, Everton and Chelsea, the Foxes are not the second best, no doubt about it. They are the best.   

Good things fail

Izamsai Katenge is a good friend, colleague, co-worker, student and a teacher. He lives in a nondescript village named “Salhe” in Korchi block of Gadchiroli district. A year before he was awarded the prestigious “C Subramaniam” fellowship as a community worker by National Foundation of India (NFI).

I met him a few years back, and since then his stock in my eyes has been on ascendancy. He is a simple guy, studied till 11^th perhaps (I never bothered to ask him), working with his fellow tribes community, and a practising farmer. He is never perturbed over petty matters that seem damn serious to us. He is never disturbed over the security of the job or the sustained income source. Last time when he received the notice for termination of the job due to the conclusion of the project, he came to the organisation headquarter on the eve of the last day of the notice period to hand over the camera he has had as livelihood coordinator. He walked in and handed over the camera to the chief functionary, and when told that he need not return back the camera as his contract would be renewed, he said: "I'll take the camera when I receive the appointment letter". As simple as that! No fuss.  

He did not fight for the continuation of his appointment nor was he disturbed when he received the notice. For him, though he never said so, life goes on irrespective of the outside churning.

 
When I was doing a strategic planning exercise for the organisation, I heard him many a times over the forty five days period. He would talk slowly, and if somebody interrupted, he waited for the person to conclude or exhaust or wander or take a detour and stop. "Okay, are you through?" He would not say so, nor did his face translate this. He would simply, in the same slow tone, unhindered by the detour or the ‘greater than life’ picture of the interrupter, take off from where he left till the end of the statement he had in mind or was apt for the occasion or the issue. First time it happened, I was stunned by the resilience of the man, and his clarity of thoughts on matters of livelihood, education and people.

Last time when one of the trustees asked him, and other two colleagues from the area, why the organisation still need to work after doing such a good work for more than a decade, he waited for his two other colleagues to respond. Then in his cool demeanour he answered the question that was more of an effrontery, a direct and mean way to suggest that he and his two other colleagues have failed to sustain the good work done by the organisation for more than a decade earlier, when the community institutions were developed, and were vibrant a few years back, why on earth there was a need for redoing the same thing again! 

He listened to his colleague trying to answer the question. And then he said: "like the healthy people fall ill, like the evils getting into a virtuous mind and body, good things, too fail, some cracks appear here and there, and at times, need to redo the same thing time and again". I know for sure that he hasn’t read Jean Paul Sartre’s “Nor are freedom and authenticity medals to be won in a single battle and thereafter worn on life’s tunic: each encounter is primary and demands new choice”.  But what he said for me and my colleagues, sitting and watching the beautiful mind construct the response in the same manner he mends his mischievous oxen with dexterity, had two important lessons: don’t lose your cool, and temper when people confront you with the express intention to prove their own superiority. Two: good things, too fail over time, and dear friends, it has to be a continuous process to build and rebuild the same house unless it is going to be a tomb.     

I am ad(dicted) to you

Love of cricket hasn’t forced me to watch IPL but the summer break after many years has. I do love cricket, though, but had lost its track in the wild-wild two decades in the voluntary field and the so many leagues jostling for attention simultaneously. It was more of an “off-on-off” affair, and mostly confined to reading (stale) news about what had happened a day (or a night) before, and then listening to stories over lunch.

Watching cricket has made me to watch ads that pop up after every over or wicket fallen or a six soared over into the crowd. The wow moment of the out-swing beating the bat and pad is replaced immediately by non-padded heroes of the Hindi film world walking over hot waters and falling with grace from the skyscrapers, with magnanimous skills, in a pool of currency notes. I enjoy the ads for their funny part, and except for a few which are really good and etched in our minds, the utterly disgusting ones light up our dinner together.

Last night, and you must understand that I have to be a Mumbai Indian fan with two growing kids in the house, one of whom plays for under fourteen at school level, and a wife, who is deep rooted in the cultural traditions of Indian “kirket: class cheering Amitabh Bacchan in “Koun Banega Crorepati”, as passionately supporting Indian team in whatever colours except green; and when that precious blue diamond is put on by Mumbai Indians, I had to watch Mumbai Indians take on Royal Challengers (my wife asked our younger son, the most pertinent question a mother has to ask in the aftermath of ED issuing a red corner notice for Mallya: “who owns RCB? The youngster answered nonchalantly: even the captain does not whom he plays for!).

People tell me that they change the channels to give their fingers exercise during ad breaks. That is an innovative way of staying fit at the tips. Some people discuss serious and mundane family matters over muted volume. That gives a perfect (equi) vocal background to the plots and sub-plots that hatch and catch fire too often. I’m a non-familiar (I mean non discussing family person) wretch of a laidback person not wanting to raise even a finger against the hospitality of the small tube. Hence, I watch the ads with same intent and purpose and absentmindedness as I watch a player spitting on the pitch and the captain rearranging his troops.

A few ads have caught my fancy. The good ones that I would like to see again and again, for example the flipkart ad; the bad ads where monies being splashed on some Hindi film stars to drive us mad with boredom, and curse the brand, and single-mindedly deciding not to buy the product. What if, it is not intended at me or likes of me, but I have to swear to keep my insanity. I like the bad ones as passionately as the ones which are disgusting. For surely I cherish the making up of the lost chance of reading or watching moments of passion, vigour, madness, and fearlessness” in young children’s literature and comic books.

The soft drink maker is absolutely right. Once you are addicted to this brand, you won’t settle for something else-‘voh kya hota hain jaane-mun hum nahi samajhate’. That is brand loyalty (or is it brand addiction as in “I am addicted you”), and that takes me back the memory lane and in Goa some thirty years back. One of my friends was then working for Sesa Goa, and the multinational company had arranged a party in one of the beach hotels for its management people. It was rumoured that for this special occasion, the company had brought coca cola from abroad (thanks to dear George Fernandes, coca cola had to pack and leave the shore in seventies). One of the engineers who had a night shift that day, told my friend to bring a coca cola bottle. Next day, before the ‘night shift engineer’ was to arrive, my friend had a big fight with his wife and young son, and eventually he yielded to their numerous pestering and pleadings, and opened up the bottle for them. What next? He brought in ‘thums up’ which then was a local Indian brand, poured the content in the coca cola bottle, just pressed the cork waited eagerly for the night shifter to arrive.

The’ night shift engineer’ did arrive and he was restless to taste the ‘great coca cola’. My friend started narrating anecdotes from the yesterday’s party to drive his attention but the ‘night shift engineer’ was not interested in ‘made-up stories and drunken brawls. So my friend went to the fridge, uncorked another bottle which made a hissing sound, turned to him asked if wanted it straight or in a glass. Straight, no touch with the adulterated bloody Indian glass! He handed over the ‘thums up’ filled coca cola bottle to ‘night shift engineer’. He took almost five minutes to swallow the soft drink, and with each little sip, he smiled, raised the bottle to his eyes, watched it with admiration, looked at my friend, and at last got up, walked to my friend, gave him a hard hug and said, ‘thanks Rajesh, coke toa toa coke, thums-ups-bimps-ups teka laagta!” (Loosely translated from Konkani, it means ‘coca cola is “the coke”; thums-ups-bimps-ups (the petty ones) are not a match, even remotely to this).    

The brand loyalty aside (is it a brand addiction? Perhaps not; it could be inverted jingoism), the icing on the cake was when my elder son said, ‘raste par to gaadi think se chala nahi sakta, paani pe tufani kya karega?’ That sums up the way the young adults look at the ads and the Hindi Stars.

Though some ad-man are addicted to big stars (like the mobile companies trying to sell the “selfi(sh)” mobiles endorsed by big stars), there are a few good ads that resonate with all alike. I liked ‘flipkart mutlab bilkul pakka’ the expressions between the words, and the way Amol Palekar and ‘Apna Sumit Sabhal Lega’ speak without words. That’s perfect brand development.