Blossom 3/12 Leaving Bangalore

What better way to bid adieu to Bangalore than through a sudden, rushed book trip to Blossom?

And how better to do it than buying the ones you want for free?

Being multi-bookshelved has its disadvantages; multiple friends, acquaintances, roommates and even an ex-girlfriend had deigned my house a dumping ground for books they cannot carry with them to every new city and new country they relocate to….. What if I cannot carry them along with me to the new city I am relocating to? I am sure they would not need the books anymore- not now, after between three to seven years; not now that their need for those book have surely finished; and especially that I have never had need for those books in any way.

So off went books on Digital Signal Processing; on Graphic Designing and on Java; off went Freud, and Jung, and Foucault; Off went Martin Cruz Smith and Erich Segal; and Kafka and Kahlil Gibran and Eco and Barnes (let them go, rather a good philistine that a poor highbrow) …… and those glossy books on photography and movie-making and creative writing and fitness and even learning Spanish (that’s one I could have kept, but I really do have my own).

These were the carcasses of the whims and fancies of the early-to-mid-twenties of a lot of people who inhabited my life during my own whimsical and fanciful early-to-mid twenties.
They have moved on with their lives. And so indeed have I.

Blossom book stores, Church Street, Bangalore. I sold most, the others, which they refused to buy, were given off to be disposed.

And the following were bought, in order.

My Spin on Cricket – Richie Benaud
Playing the Moldovans at Tennis – Tony Hawks (I did buy it at last, Suhas)
Open – Andre Agassi
What I love about Cricket – Sandy Balfour
Chinaman: The legend of Pradeep Mathew – Shehan Karunatilaka

and I still had a few hundred rupees left in gift vouchers, which were dutifully gifted to the wife.

Bangalore will not be missed so much as re-visited often. It IS my city, my home. Each book was signed ‘Blossom 3/12/11 Leaving Bangalore’. It didn’t break my heart writing it. It really didn’t.

Culé Gooner

I am a plastic fan. This is my defense. Our defense.

I am what you call a plastic fan. Of Arsenal. And Barcelona. I am from Bangalore, India, and here’s my defense. And that of the millions that you ridicule every day.
I love the game. Having been initiated into football via the magical skills of Diego Madarona in ’86, I cannot think of life without the game. I have played the game at a reasonable level, and still try to manage a game every weekend. Not very different from you, am I?
I have an Indian club I love, Mohun Bagan AC. I don’t stay in my city of origin, Kolkata (Mohun Bagan is from that city), anymore, so I don’t get to go to the stadium too many times anymore (Bangalore to Kolkata is 2000 miles, yes, that was 2000 miles), I used to be a regular. I wept after a defeat, especially to our eternal rivals, East Bengal FC. I was jubilant after wins. I still am, watching the matches on TV. I am what you call a normal football fan, I love my club.
Just like you love Huddersfield. Just like you love Bradford, just like you love Derby.
But I also love the game itself. And I am honest enough to accept that Mohun Bagan, or East Bengal, or Dempo, or Mahindra Utd. , don’t really provide that kind of football. That does not make me love my club any less, that just makes me want to get a chance to watch and enjoy better football too.
And therefore came the Premiership. And therefore came the Primera Liga. I love how well they play the game I love in your country. And in Spain. There is the television, and I don’t miss a match.
I am watching the league from 1998 (that is about the time when the Premier League started being aired regularly in Indian TV, thank you Star Sports / ESPN), I was 18 then. Tony Adams is my hero, and Dennis Bergkamp is only second to Diego Maradona in the God-stakes, in my book. I HATE Luis Figo, he’s the real Judas. I am jubilant when Arsenal wins, I am dejected when Arsenal loses. I follow every match, I follow the post-season, and just like you, I wanted us to have a holding midfielder too. And no, I didn’t want Alonso, I wanted Toulalan. Ah, wishes… I am a fan.
And yes, I have been to your stadia (not to the Emirates or Highbury, sadly. Never stayed in England long enough to manage that yet), and I know that the tears that you cry when your club loses will never be the same as my sadness at an Arsenal defeat. But I know the tears, I have cried them after a Bagan loss.
But does it mean that our sadness at an Arsenal defeat counts for nothing? We came to the premiership looking for great football, we found a club we would like to follow, and we followed the club. And devoted we have been, for the last ten years. And yes we don’t have perspective; they started showing the Premier League on TV only ten years ago. I thought we did the best we could as fans. Where did we go wrong?
I thought it was the universal game.
- Godof86 (don’t ever say ‘third world’ again without knowing what the word originates from), Arsenal, Barcelona and Mohun Bagan.

On being an Indian fan of Arsenal and Barcelona….

I am a fan of Arsenal. And I am a fan of Barcelona. and having been initiated into football via the magical skills of Diego Madarona in ’86 (weren’t you asking who/what is the godof86?)… I share the Eduardo Galleano – certified love for Joga Bonito. Having played the game at some level, I understand and appreciate a great defensive performance by say, Alessandro Nesta, and that is beautiful football for me too…. I love expressive, free-flowing football, and during the time I started watching the European game in all seriousness, the most beautiful, attacking and free-flowing football, in my opinion was played by Arsenal and Barcelona.

So I was, and remain a fan of Arsenal. And a fan of Barcelona.

And I have been in London for about a day in total, mostly in transit. And I have never been to Barcelona, though I would love to be in both of the places. Camp Nou would be fabulous, I know. And so would be the Emirates. I will like to visit the shopping mall which is in place instead of Highbury, and feel sad for I could never have been there to the stadium.

And then someone at Football365 screams abuse at fans like us, from distant India and Singapore and Hong Kong, for showering our support to clubs with whom we do not share locational or cultural synergies. And they call our ilk fair-weather fans and glory-hunters.

My real team will always be Mohun Bagan Athletic Club, in West Bengal, India. And yes, if you ask me, I go to the stadium to watch Mohun Bagan whenever I can, whenever the travails of holding down a job allows me to. A victory in the Indian National Football League can gladden the heart like nothing else. Like all other Mohun Bagan fans, the pain of defeat, especially to those bangladeshi refugees of East Bengal Sporting Club, can be at times just way too hard to bear. 

Yet, do understand that the football I get to see, supporting Mohun Bagan, is not really top drawer. But I really like the game! And European football is available on TV all the time (not the Championship, though)… so I naturally watch all the games I can, and due my preference for skillful, free-flowing football, I support Arsenal and Barcelona. And thus I have been supporting both the clubs for the last ten or so years.

And yes, if you ask me, a loss to Spurs (thankfully, that’s extremely rare) does not affect me so much that I feel for a while that this life is not worth living. Neither a loss to Real. They do affect me to quite an extent though. I do feel gutted after a defeat…. but yes, the pain you, North London / Catalunya dweller are dealing with might be more than that I face. And do realise, I know the feeling. I feel the same when Mohun Bagan loses to East Bengal. Or even to Mohammedan Sporting, rare as it might be though. Is that reason enough to spew venom at us? Really, when we started supporting Arsenal / Barca, we had no clue that we have to justify our support some day.

Look, I would love for Mohun Bagan to play football of such a level that there are fans of us in the farthest reaches of the world, but that is not to be. And you, dear north London / Catalunya dweller, would feel the same have you been in my position. And more fans would mean more money, and more money would mean better players in our team, and thereby more trophies. wouldn’t you like your team to win? As of now, as a Mohun Bagan man, I have to live with the limited glory of coming in the top 4 of the Indian National League after long last, and as a Gooner / Cule, I would like them to win the Premiership / La Liga, and meet in the finals of the Champion’s League. Well it’s happened once, and not too long ago…. I watched the match with friends, and I wore a Barca kit in the first half, and an Arsenal kit in the second.

The comeback…

This is a post I will write out of memory, this was a very long while back…. Mid-80′s, in the ’87-’88 range if my memory serves me right. There might be a few factual inaccuracies … I was a tiny-tot then, and just getting initiated into sports, though Boris Becker had already won Wimbledon and gatecrashed into the conscience, and Diego Maradona even more so by winning the ’86 World Cup almost single-handedly… I had just started following cricket, though Azhar’s three hundreds on debut had made him an instant favourite (rather, Baba’s favourite, and therefore mine) even before that …. but I haven’t had an Indian team play a great match yet.. I was way too small during the ’83 world cup. I needed a match…

And then that match happened…

Indian hockey was at the stage that West Indian cricket was in the early ’90′s, slowly but inevitably moving into a stage of helpless irrelevance. But there were still a few players who could really play… Zafar Iqbal, MP Somayya, Joaquim Carvalho, Mohinder Pal Singh, Pargat Singh, Thoiba Singh … and Shahid. Mohammed Shahid of the silken dribbling and immaculate skills, my favourite Indian player in those days, all sports included….

And this match was against West Germany (the Berlin wall was still intact), who were, I think, the reigning world champions those days. west Germany had their own talisman in the big, tough Karsten Fischer… Fischer was one of the first penalty-corner taking superstars of hockey. A few years hence, he shaved off his hair, the tonsured look enhancing his toughness and making him the ultimate baddie in sport for me….

I remember, in the first half, Germany dominated, and pummelled goals into our net. We scored one back, but they had built a sizable lead…

it was much of the same in the second half. Fischer scored a few… and with ten minutes or so remaining in the clock, we were trailing 5-1.

What followed was in my opinion the greatest fightback in Indian sports history, equalled (but not emulated) only by the Laxman-Dravid orchestrated heroics at the Eden Gardens…

We got one back through MP Singh who was our penalty corner specialist…. but well, neither Baba (who was watching the game with me) nor I celebrated much… this was surely a chase too far….

And then Shahid did what only Shahid could. He dribbled through the defence and scored a peach of a goal….. now most of you who were too young to see Shahid in action might not be able to appreciate what he was capable of… Assume Dhanraj Pillay at his best, and increase that by 20%. That was Shahid.

and that goal rejuvenated the team completely… you could literally see the team believe that there is a chance now….

Pargat scored the fourth off a rasping hit.

…. and there were only about three minutes remaining…..

But there was time for a last attack….. Can they? Can they?

And yes, they could. There was a fifth goal… and if I remember correct, it was MP Somayya off a Zafar Iqbal pass (well, it might have been the vice versa)… and we were off our seats, Baba and myself….

West Germany (5) – India (5) !!!

If there ever was a draw which felt better than a victory, this was it….

On Italian defenders, the talented younger brother phenomenon, and defending as an art

Great article in The Guardian, please read.

Most who have only played the game in passing, but are passionate about watching the game, miss the fine art of defending, and have very lttle understanding of the defensive midfielder. Being a defender is a great art, possibly second to only that of being a goal-poacher….

I had been a defender all my life, preferably at the left hand side, or sometimes reluctantly in the center (where of course my lack of height would come in the way of heading away crosses from the wing. Had developed my left foot, shooting and close control mostly (I cannot dribble with the left foot), after the broken right toe, which made life difficult for a full year…. played as a left sided midfielder during most of the serious matched I have played.

It’s vital for the full back to have a good turn of speed and a never-give-up attitude to succeed (and a reasonable ball sense and a good shot help). While most often in our games, holding a position was important (and I played 3-4-3 all my life), I was blessed almost all the time in my school football career in having a quick and unselfish wing-half (Hembram, thanks). I loved taking free kicks and corners and had a good long throw-in, thus contributed to set pieces. It was important for the wing-half to fall back and help in defence….

Okay, I just got bored post the previous statement. How much can you tolerate an average old-timer footballer’s rambling? I couldn’t , any further.