Sports minister Vijay Goel has ostensibly gone to the Olympics to inspire athletes and assess their progress. Highly laudable objectives both, but his shenanigans would suggest he was attending some political jamboree in Chandni Chowk.
Taking selfies is not the problem. Rather how, when and where this is done – especially in an event like the Olympics. To barge into reserved zones and when athletes have barely recovered from finishing their event is condemnable and shallow.
It reveals a craving for reflected glory (the minister took selfies only with winners), poor sensibilities about sport and an abrasive political culture that uses faux nationalism as cover up for disregarding protocol and behaving boorishly.
Goel has claimed innocence stating that he personally wasn’t responsible for any misdemeanour, and that if there was an issue, it could have arisen because of misunderstandings caused by a language barrier between people in his entourage and the administration at the Olympics.
This is asinine explanation. How his minions behave is surely the responsibility of the minister. They are part of his troupe, not independent functionaries. He can’t absolve himself by passing the blame.
Moreover, it doesn’t need knowledge of Portuguese, English, or whatever to understand what is allowed or disallowed at such events. Apart from dos and don’ts provided, interpreters are around to assist foreigners.
Failing that, there is always sign language. This needs no verbal skills, just an open mind and has worked for thousands of years all over the world in understanding a situation. Finally, there is common sense.
Goel’s antics have left the country red-faced with embarrassment. Prickly as this always is to politicians, a quick apology would have prevented the matter from snowballing into a controversy that no amount of whitewashing can redeem.
Frankly, I am surprised that the BJP put up spokespersons to defend the indefensible. But I suppose even that needs some understanding of sports
RIP original Little Master
Old timers in Mumbai’s cricket circles still talk about Hanif Mohamed’s innings of 160 against India at the Brabourne Stadium in 1960-61. “So solid was his defence you could hear the ball hitting the middle of his bat at Churchgate Station’’ goes one story.
Obviously this is apocryphal and greatly exaggerated. But it captures Hanif’s virtuosity nonetheless, as also the psychological impact he had on Indian cricketers and fans in those days.
A more realistic appraisal came from the late Madhav Mantri who once told me a few years before his death, “Hanif had the broadest bat I have seen, and once was set he was unshakeable.’’
Given Mumbai’s magnificent legacy in batting, accolades for other batsmen are sparse. Considering Mantri had played alongside Vijay Merchant, was Sunil Gavaskar’s uncle and had seen Sachin Tendulkar grow from a boy prodigy into a full-blown genius, this was extraordinary praise.
Just how good was Hanif? A Test career batting average of 43.98 would not stand scrutiny amongst the game’s best. But while statistics give very good insight into the greatness of a cricketer, they do not necessarily tell the true story.
The era and circumstances the runs were scored in, quality of the opposition, the strength of your team is perhaps more significant. Hanif’s career coincided with the infancy of Pakistan cricket. In fact it was he and fast bowler Fazal Mahmood who led their country to quick acceptance as full members of the ICC through their wonderful deeds.
At another level, his batting provided self-belief to his people. Only five feet six inches tall, he was a titan. The original Little Master. RIP.
