Fun, fish and football

Legendary football manager Bill Shankly had said, "Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it's much more serious than that." Shankly may well have been talking about the people of Kolkata when he made this statement.

In Mumbai, football is a sport more for the elite, a game to be enjoyed over beer with friends at a bar, rather than discussed with strangers in the local train. Posters of football stars are available at sports outlets and showrooms, and not so much on pavements and outside railway stations. Not so in Kolkata, where it stirs the passion of the masses.

It is probably the only city in India where football teams worship a goalpost on the first day of the new year (Bar Puja), to pray for success in the sporting season. Ironically, the city's most famous sportsperson, Sourav Ganguly, wanted to become a footballer before finding his fame elsewhere.

In the Calcutta of my childhood, you would think that only two countries played in the World Cup ufffd Brazil and Argentina. Neighbourhoods were defined by which of the two they supported and the rivalry between the Maradona and Pele camps would match or even beat the Indo-Pak fever. Unlike cricket, where loyalties are defined by birth, in football you have to choose, and hence prove, your allegiance to the team you support.

The fight between the yellow-greens and blue-whites would often manifest itself on roads and walls, where paintings, cartoons and graffiti surrounding star players would suddenly spring up. God help you if you cheered for the 'opposite team' in a neighbourhood.

Much of this passion took root at the time of the Partition of Bengal and the consequent rise of the two major football clubs from the East and West of the border (East Bengal and Mohun Bagan respectively). The Bengali love for fish was then smartly intertwined with this famous rivalry, with prices of prawns or hilsa rising or falling depending on whether Mohun Bagan or East Bengal had won that day. While the craze for club football has diminished, international football has grown by leaps and bounds. It is most evident during the quadrennial extravaganza that is about to begin.

I have often wondered why people are so fanatical about a game where the country ranks a lowly hundred-and-something. What is it about the beautiful game that makes it the world's most watched sport? Maybe the answer lies in the not knowing. Like all things beautiful, it should be felt and not analysed.
So, let the beautiful game begin!