Tag Archives: alekh

Paean To The Best Champion I’ve Known

Posted on by
Reply

Trying to keep pace...

“In an era of specialists, you’re either a clay court specialist, a grass court specialist, or a hard court specialist…or you’re Roger Federer.” - Jimmy Connors

For me Roger Federer isn’t just two words, it isn’t just a name either. It defines the perfect sportsman, a gentleman, exemplary class and above all a good human being. He has been an inspiration to millions like me and yesterday, despite succumbing to a shocking reversal, yet again displayed absolute humility – this time in defeat.

He started with two sublime sets and was looking good to stroll into the semis, playing shots that only he can play and boasting a first serve percentage in the 80s. Sun was then shining bright on centre court and Tsonga seemed to have no answer for either the tie breaker or the 16 time champion.

But something changed drastically in the third. As I saw it (and maybe felt), Federer got a bit complacent. Some of his shots were almost nonchalant, and his break happened in a game where he was ahead on all points, yet managed to lose as if he cared a damn. Now not for a moment I mean to play down Tsonga’s brilliant game, but in the third set, Federer definitely wasn’t there mentally.

We all know what followed, and at the end of over three hours, the Swiss genius walked into yet another sunset out of the green courts. Sunset of his career maybe? Well that’s stretching it a little too far, as the great man himself refused to concede, commenting “I don’t think so, it wasn’t a shocker, a second-round loss in straight sets, some stupid match I played. It was a great match, I think, from both sides. I really did play well and I also thought Jo played an amazing match, as good as I have seen him play for such a long time. You can only respect that. That is why there is no reason to look too far ahead.”

But for his legion of fans and the ever hungry media, there will be speculations. After-all we are not accustomed to contemplating almost two whole barren seasons (Grand Slam-wise) for the maestro.  Yes there is the US Open to come, but any die-hard Federer fan always wants to see him win at SW19 and equal Pete Sampras’ record of seven Wimbledon titles. What probably hurt most about this defeat is not that he dropped out of another Grand Slam, nor that his dream to match Sampras is put on hold for another year, but that he went down playing such tasteless tennis in the end.

I won’t deny that time has caught up with him (neither does he I think). First it was only Nadal, but recently its been Del Potro, Tomas Berdych, Novak Djokovic and now Jo Wilfried Tsonga. For sure that aura of invincibility that lasted from 2003-07 was over with the onset of Nadal, yet he still had the sting in his shots. That is sadly disappearing with every passing day, and as a ripple effect the fear in the minds of his competitors is slowly being replaced by a belief – a confidence that the Swiss Maestro can be beaten, on his turf.

History has already provided us with such a rough patch in the past; when chasing his 14th Grand Slam title proved to be emotionally too demanding for Roger. It all came out (very publicly) in a burst of tears at the 2009 Australian Open ceremony, where the champion showed his humane side – and as the video below illustrates, a large part of the tennis world cried with him.

But we do know now, that he bounced back, got his 14th slam, got the Career slam, and today stands tallest among his sport with a tally of 16 Grand Slam titles, a feat unparalleled – yet. That gives me hope and a belief that he can go on to relive the glory days of the past, even if for a brief moment. Personally I would love for him to reach the unscaled 20 Grand Slams mark, but most of all would want him to win the seventh crown at the All England Club, probably the final entry left unchecked in his long list of records.

However even if that does not happen, even if he does not win any more slams, he shall forever be the classiest player I’ve seen take field – and not just in tennis, pretty much in any sport. He is human, he is humble, he is a pure champion, and some of his strokes could make you cry with joy. And when he does indeed finally walk into the sunset, he shall be a content man – one who is revered by millions, considered a legend in his sport, with two wonderful kids and a loving wife and richness beyond dreams.

To end I would just bring out the lines from an iconic poem by Rudyard Kipling. It adorns the walls of Wimbledon, and was once recited by the hallowed duo of Federer and Nadal. But most of all, these eight lines encapsulate for me, the spirit that is Roger Federer.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run –
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!

ps: watch this just for fun (look at poor Nole dumbfounded)

About these ads

Getting Social

Posted on by
Reply

The nineteenth century belonged to “Popular Media” (ofcourse apart from Rock gods and World Wars). It saw the advent of Telegraph, which subsequently moved on to Radio and the phenomenon that was Television. This hunger for information gave rise to giants like Reuters, BBC and CNN, their power growing exponentially with their reach. Towards the end of the century then, these media groups were probably the most powerful force in the world, representing the bubble of humanity and capable of bringing even the mighty to their knees.

This natural progression and the innate curious nature of mankind led us to the culture of 24×7 news – which is where the troubles began. The insatiable thirst for these media houses to bombard us with information (whether useful or not) diluted the very concept of journalism. It moved on to the dark lanes of tabloid journalism and then to the more unfortunate episodes of fabricated reportage. This mixed with the ever increasing power of the media, twisted the control of public opinion and there is a prevalent feeling that something needs to be done.

To the rescue came – or so it seems – Web 2.0. Well the internet was quite well established by the turn of the century, but the early 2000s saw the explosion of “Social Media.” The World Wide Web therefore moved on from being the Pandora’s box of information to a living web of a million connected and interacting individuals.

The explosion of social networking sites such as the ubiquitous “Facebook”, to the much lesser known “Couchsurfing” meant that one could connect to likeminded individuals across the world, no matter how bizarre be the field of interest. Much less glamorous was the rise of “Blogs”, which though seem to have taken over the creative and cognitive landscape of the web. As with the networking sites, you can find a blog to cater to the funniest, craziest, dumbest, and whatever-you-might-like interest. And I better not get started about Twitter here.

What makes this new concept so addictive and powerful is 1) its immediacy in spread of information, and 2) the intimate access to our life accorded to it by us. In short, a tweet about my lost dog reaches to all my contacts instantly, right onto their handheld devices. This in turn is broadcast by them, and in a span of minutes the lost dog is a concern for more people than needs to be. Good for the dog then!

Humans are social animals, and when you have the fodder that is Web 2.0, tectonic changes are bound to follow. This living sphere of digital ones and zeroes evolved into the largest open forum on the planet, with views being exchanged, ideas floated and opinions offered to an ever interested audience. To cite just an example it is estimated that social media was integral to the Arab revolutions of 2011. As one activist put it, “We use Facebook to schedule the protests, Twitter to coordinate, and YouTube to tell the world.”

But where does this freedom of use of information and broadcast stop. The fiercest debate on this was raised by Julian Assange, the maverick founder of Wikileaks. While most netizens hailed him as a visionary, governments across the world were not amused. What followed is history and the dust hasn’t settled for sure, but the matter might be crucial in deciding the future path of online freedom. Does an individual’s right of expression accord him/her the liberty to disclose secrets without knowing the full extent of its impact? And does the world have the right to know every fact, or does good old censorship still hold true.

As Uncle Ben said to Peter Parker “with great power comes great responsibility” and naturally the same would employ to this nascent technocultural bubble. Unlike the popular media, there is very scant editing or censorship in the social media, and anyone with access to a mobile device is capable of shooting “expert opinion” as he/she fancies. This not only is potentially hazardous, but also tones down the credibility of social media to be used as a legal tool in any future conflict.

But the reality is much tangled than appears. Despite being hailed as the saviour of public information, Web 2.0 is anything but so. Did you know that Google tracks 57 signals about each user before turning out results for the searched content? And this is even when you are not logged in! We then live in what Eli Pariser hails to be the “Filter Bubble.” He describes it as “the personal universe of information that you live in online — unique and constructed just for you by the array of personalized filters that now power the web.”

In his book of the same name (a must read according to me), he argues that personalization is sort of a privacy turned inside out. Today’s net not only allows you to control what the world can see about you, but conversely also decides what you get to see of the outside. The worrying part though, is that most of this happens passively, unknown and uncontrolled by us.

The twenty first century seems to belong to the social media, but if we have learnt anything from the past, then it is upto us in preventing it turning from a powerful source of focussed opinion to an uncontrolled fire breathing monster. Internet is the most adaptable and dynamic invention by us, and is in a way the first form of a self conscious machine much feared by sci-fi writers since ages. But the beauty of it all is that this self consciousness has come to be defined and in turn defines the cultural landscape of the world today. Where it will lead is to be seen, but what is sure is that we are driving the bus, and therefore hold the sole responsibility for the path it takes.

ps: If you want to know more about Eli Pariser and his Filter Bubbles, watch the video below

Beauty And The Beast

Posted on by
Reply

As the football season comes to a close, fans like me have to survive on left overs such as replays and whatever it is that the modern media force feeds us with. Right now the two biggest things in the world of the beautiful game are the surreal brilliance of Lionel Messi (and Barcelona) at one end, and the absolute autocracy of Sepp Blatter (and FIFA) at the other – and hence the topic of this post. Lets deal with the good part first then.

Anyone who has read my blog/explored even a little, would realise I am not a Barca fan. Infact they have only piled misery on me in recent months. But on-field rivalry aside I cannot get over the trickery of that little magician Leo Messi. See the video below at 3:07 and you will understand what I mean.

He leaves Nani – who is no slouch – for dead, and almost effortlessly breezes past Evra and Ferdinand. That is one of the meanest defences and the little man  ballets round them – at warp speed! Extrapolating his performances from his current and relatively tender age of 24, it is safe to say that heaven even isn’t the limit for him.

But its not his pace, or his mind numbing stats which make me bow down to him. Its his nature, both on and off the pitch. In a team with several players maligned for feigning injuries, he stands out like a dove, withstanding the numerous tackles thrown at him – most without so much as a whimper. He weaves in and out of them; hop, skips and jumps, and only when not able to go on further, does fall to the ground. Then is his absolute humility in personal life. Never one for any controversies or publicity seeking antics, he lives in almost monastic austerity, devoted to football and his foundation.

If people thought that his relative dip in the World Cup was a sign of things to come, he has proved everyone wrong by producing his most prolific season to date. I won’t rattle out his long list of awards/trophies (check out his wikipedia page for it), but it suffices to bring out that he is in pole position to win his third successive FIFA World Player of the Year award.

Which brings me to the beast – FIFA. I am incredibly proud and passionate about the game, maybe more than Arsenal FC itself. So while nothing pleases me more than a victory for the Gunners, nevertheless any good match is sure to enthrall me (except for a Man U win ofcourse). Hence the disgrace that is ongoing at the top echelons of football’s administrative authority pains me to the core. Allegations are being thrown around as if we are witnessing the proceedings of our houses of parliament.

The World Cup bid had become a mockery a long time ago, but that is nothing as compared to the sham of the upcoming election tomorrow. With only one candidate standing for election – that being the incumbent – and his only opponent being suspended on charges of corruption, it makes for a perfect recipe for an autocratic state. And if that was not enough, Mr Blatter speaks as if all of this is mere hogwash and is literally daring people to challenge his authority.

As a proof of his leadership, the Swiss boasts of booming coffers, which most agree are hardly to his credit alone. It is on field deities like Messi, devouts like yours truly and the global television industry that is prompting sponsors to fall over themselves paying unimaginable sums of money for Mr Blatter’s FIFA (pun intended). Even with this utopian financial condition, what difference have the gazillions made for the common man’s world of football?

Even critical issues such as the implementation of goal line technology have no clear implementation plan. While Mr Blatter may blabber all about the fast paced nature of game, has he failed to notice how comfortable rugby has implemented video replays or tennis adapted to hawk-eye. Mr Blatter I do not know if you have ever heard of the phrase “where there is a will there is a way.” Or maybe you certainly have, cause you quite forcefully implement your wilful fancies on all under your influence.

For a mere fan like me, I can only rant in this little digital space and hope that many million such views might pull the deck of notes from under the seat of authority at FIFA. So as in any match, I have hope till the final whistle is blown. And till such time that I can watch a pure genius like Messi mess-merize us all, I know for sure that the beauty will win over the beast. Amen!

Related articles

 

 

 

 

 

 

Great India Roadtrip: Day 15

Posted on by
2

I finished the previous day’s report (a long time ago) on a note that this post would  have an interesting beginning. Well it will, as that is the way the 15th day of our trip began. I brought out in my earlier post,  that we were staying right across the Puri beach and this sparked some ideas in my brain. We had three of the best SUVs in India at our disposal, and not taking them for a ride on the beach seemed criminal.

So we woke up early and under my (not so able) aegis, drove the cars (sans the Innova ofcourse) on to the beachfront. Now since none of us were pros at this, we certainly drove with much trepidation, but then the supreme abilities of these vehicles, made it easier than expected. That encouraged much experimenting, with driving through shallow water and lots of shutter clicking.

Ya it was a bit stupid of us :P

Our antics had certainly attracted a sizable crowd, who were there as much for the cars, as to see the faces of the stupid people (or maybe celebs, it’s the same thing) fooling around with them. Our juvenile tendencies sated, we headed back towards dear tarmac, and this proved to be a different task altogether as it entailed driving over a small rise on the beach, which for added fun, had loose sand. Me being me, chose the LC200 and a different route from the rest two – well I am always hat ke from the rest you see.

Little did I realise that while I was indeed avoiding loose sand, I was also heading bang into populated territory and with an attractive brute, it only meant people blocking my progress to get a better view. Now anyone who has ever experienced or heard of driving on sand knows that momentum is critical, and once that is lost it does not take long for the car to sink into the soft surface. And I was maneuvering nearly a 3 tonne monster at that.

Bam! Tyres hugged the sand, threw up most of it as they spun, and all the electro-mechanic wizardry of the Toyota could not get it to move an inch. This  seemed to press all the panic buttons in my brain, all at once. Various worst case scenarios started floating in my mind. We will have to call a crane and I’ll embarrass everyone, the expedition would  come to a stupid halt etc etc. Thankfully it did not come to that as the people were extremely helpful – after being offered Rs 1000 for their services. A couple of heaves, followed with an unblocked way ahead, and the LC literally breezed out of the seemingly insurmountable terrain.

We were later told that such off-roaders on the beach are nothing new for the locals, and they were not attracted by any inquisitiveness, but very cunningly  cornered the one away from the pack, to precisely block and get it stuck and make an easy buck! So much to their entrepreneurial abilities then, but I was mighty relieved to make it out of the sticky situation.

Normalcy restored, we continued on our journey towards Vishakapatnam, though before that we had a brief lunch halt at INS Chilka. This Naval Base is the basic training organisation of all the enlisted men joining the Indian Navy, and hence holds a major significance. Situated on the banks of the world’s second largest lagoon – from which it gets its name – it is a picturesque base and one full of surprises.

Sadly we landed on a Sunday afternoon, meaning we were far from the daily hustle bustle, with most people preferring a quiet siesta indoors away from the stifling heat (yes even during November). So we limited ourselves to some photography at the lovely watermanship training center of the base, with its views of Lake Chilka spreading out till the unseen, masquerading as the mighty ocean, only to be betrayed by its calm visage.

Roads in Orissa are nothing much to write about, and not fun to drive on either. Firstly there are no carriageways to let loose, neither the kind of twists to keep one involved, and the incessant cattle traffic is a sore to the eye and steering. Entering Andhra Pradesh then provided for a welcome change. One could notice the stark difference in the countryside which was much lusher despite being pretty much in the same environment.

Paddy fields stretched till far and there seemed to be a purpose about the place. This is one of the many disputed areas in our country with the battle on for the formation of a new Telangana from within the existing state, with Vishakapatnam as its capital. Thankfully we did not get any hint of trouble during our passage and infact it turned out to be a soothing last few hours before we entered the “city of destiny” – as the locals choose to call the coastal city of Vishakapatnam.

That may be a grand euphemism for what is a pretty regular port city, and I prefer to stick to the nickname Vizag. Nevertheless I had served here for close to two years during my first appointment on a warship, and it indeed brought back many memories. Not much had changed since I had left, either in the manic traffic culture, or the quaint “Beach Road” that’s a shining example of how a beach front should be developed and maintained.

The best part though was yet to come. We checked into Green Park, a hotel close to the beach, and might I say that among all the varied places we bunked during our trip (from the grand to the bare-bones), I never experienced the kind of personal touch and true Indian hospitality as this place. It was just perfect, from the food to the staff, with everyone attempting to make our stay that bit special. I know it’s not among the famed chain of hotels, but if any of you happen to visit Vizag, I would recommend this place with eyes closed.

We were being hosted by the Admiral Superintendent the next day and that meant some smart military turn out and a chance to meet old friends and colleagues after long. Vizag is home to the Eastern Fleet and probably the most important city after Bombay in context to our Naval might. Right from the best in gas turbine technology to the latest and meanest nuclear submarine, all find home here.

But the high point for the day was a drive up Dolphin’s cove. This place was still coming up when I was here last, and to see it near completion was a sight in itself. It’s on top of Dolphin hill that stands like a sentinel over the vast blue sea stretching till infinity – needless to say then that the visuals here are purely breathtaking. To add to my pleasure, the route is a spaghetti of tarmac draped across the mountain, curving its way towards the top – and on to automotive nirvana.

Evening was reserved to catching up with old friends in an unofficial atmosphere and taking the Landie for a spin on beach road with all embarked. Overall one of the best two days in the trip (definitely since Delhi) and a very rejuvenating halt. Next we headed to Chennai, covering the most kilometers in a day during our entire trip. But indications were that the road would be nice and scenic, so we were geared up for it.

I know this was long, but trust me I had to really trim it down. Mostly as the stay was nostalgic and the drive was proving the most enjoyable yet with the new crew being the most fun by a long way compared to the others. And this proved to be a precursor to the remaining leg, which only continued to get better. But that’s for future posts. So till next time adios and drive safe :)

Classy Copenhagen

Posted on by
1

Copenhagen, the first thing that probably comes to your mind on hearing this name is the Climate Conference that was held here and caught worldwide attention. Sadly my trip was before these series of meets and otherwise too my knowledge of recent events falls far short than my knowledge of history (or maybe even the future). Anyways for me it was a convenient halt in my journey from Amsterdam to Gothenburg.

But having been there, I can perfectly understand why the city was chosen for a Global Climate Council. I’ve been to a few cities in my brief lifespan, and while they might just be a sprinkling of the wide world, I’m yet to see a city closer to nature than the Danish capital. Notice the word capital, cause one would never associate greenery and bonhomie with nature in ruthless, pragmatic and self-important capital cities. All that nature humdrum is better left to second rate cities, so that they have something to talk about. National capitals have much more important things like economy and governance to focus on, rather than the irritating and trifling issue of environment conservation.

Anyways, as I boarded the train from Amsterdam, which was supposed to be an overnight journey through Germany, I found that the 6 people compartment was just having me and two others (what inefficiency I say, would never happen in India). So I had to kill time with two pretty girls from Norway and US (needless to say who was more interesting). Both incidentally were backpacking too and it was great fun to exchange notes – isn’t this the best part of travelling, meeting random people and learning from them, its just what makes the whole experience unforgettable.

Since we were just the three of us, the Norwegian came up with a suggestion for two of us sleep on the bench chairs (these trains don’t have bunks like back home, they have padded benches as in a day train/local) while the third sleeps on the floor. Now I was a bit ambivalent as naturally I would have to be chivalrous enough to take the floor. But to my surprise the Norwegian insisted as she found the benches too uncomfortable! These Europeans I say. Good banter apart, I was also fortunate enough to share some great Norwegain (sort of) pancakes, which – might I say – were quite strange yet yummy.

15 deg on a summer afternoon!!!

Disembarking bleary eyed in Copenhagen I was immediately hit by the cold. I mean it was summers then and was pretty sure this was far cooler than any Mumbai winter I had known. The next thing to hit me (as I got out of the train station) was the number of cyclists. For a moment I thought I’ve travelled back in time as there were hardly any motorised vehicles to be seen. Thankfully though I could find some oil burning contraption in this nature hugging city to ferry me till my hostel.

Now everyone had warned me about the exorbitant prices in Scandinavia. But no one mentioned extortion. I got to experience this first hand as my hostel (which had already charged me a fortune to bunk my a**), asked me to pay extra for bedding. “Go to hell” was my initial reaction, which thankfully I managed to subdue just in time, and refused the accessories as I was carrying a sleeping bag with me. “No” was the stern reply as “guests are not allowed to use their personal bedding due to health concerns.” Being the principled person I am (???), I refused to bow to what I felt was plain extortion, and hence thought of declining the bedding altogether. But just in time a gust of cold breeze blew all my principles away with it, and I grudgingly swiped my card, succumbing to the corporate fleecing, not for the last time.

Citybike - absolute bliss :)

But soon I was to see the good side of the city. As I picked a few fliers and sat down to plan my day (with a wonderful cup of coffee), I found the the city council provides free bicycles (with an accurate map) for tourists to explore the city (not restricted to tourists, but locals have other options). The concept is that you walk to any of the several bike ATMs (my word, not the official jargon) and deposit a 20 kroner coin to unlock a bike. Thereafter you can use it for as long as you desire (within city limits ofcourse), and having finished you lock it back at the nearest ATM anywhere in the city, and out pops a 20 kroner (well not the same coin you deposited ofcourse).

Ironically it is the same corporate culture that I have vilified above, that supports this concept. The bikes are illustrated with ads, and the benefiting company in turn pays for the machine and its maintenance. It’s just such a beautiful concept, one step ahead of even the Paris Velo programme (which in itself is brilliant). To be able to explore a city on the sedate pace of a bike is far better than zooming from monument to monument in any public transport (I need not point out the extra cheese it helps you burn out).

I would point out though, that the comfortable (slightly chilly infact) climate and the small size of the capital do act as major advantages to make this concept a success. And the city does it’s bit by having one of the most organised bicycle traffic management system in the world. Amsterdam is generally more famous as the city of bikes (supposedly having more bikes than people), but there one is perennially under the terror of being run over by one. There are too many of them, going too fast and mostly with the singular aim of maiming an unsuspecting tourist. I have a strong feeling they have some sort of national league in Amsterdam wherein locals gather points for terrorising tourists by their bikes. Bonus points ofcourse if you run someone over.

Copenhagen has well defined, wide cyclists-only lanes, with their own dedicated traffic lights. And this is not on the sidewalks or for side roads, it runs all across, including all major intersections. Cycling in the city then, was THE experience for me, and I can’t wait for the day I would be able to do that in amchi Mumbai (in the so called winters atleast).

 

 

 

For all interested, yes I did visit (insanely popular) The Little Mermaid overlooking Copenhagen’s breathtaking harbour. Having read so much about it, in reality I was a bit let down. It’s really tiny and has a queer expression which is somewhere between bored and waiting (or do the two go hand in hand). But that’s understandable considering how long the poor thing has been sitting there watching ships sail in and out.

Copenhagen harbour incidentally is one of the very few in the world, whose waters are clean enough to swim. And not some small isolated corner, but a huge area literally metres away from the shipping channel. One can see lots of crazy Danes jumping in the harbour water and making merry. Quite a shocker for me, as our Navy divers think twice before jumping in to inspect a ship (and then come out looking right off the sets of an Indian Jones movie having finished the slush fight scene).

The visual treat does not end with the crystal waters though, and soon the visage changes to a lush green treat. Now I’ve seen beautiful and massive parks in cities (Munich’s vast and famous Englischer Garten comes to mind), but Copenhagen I felt is an average sized city – in a huge park. Everywhere I went I could see vast flowing greenlands, or tree lined boulevards. Water so crystal, you could drink, and no sign of any human caused pollution (is there any other kind). But I did have one serious (unanswered) question – don’t they not produce ANY garbage!

As I explored, I walked into their maritime academy – which was a shocker in itself, cause in any other part of the world I would not be allowed within light-years of it, and would be kept off bounds with multiple rings of perimeter fencing. Instead here I walked right in and enjoyed watching two academy teams play football (albeit guarded by an armed soldier). I also strolled near their barracks which were in the middle of achingly beautiful rippling green fields, adorned with windmills and little memorials. And it just wasn’t me, there were several other people jogging, cycling, reading; and all this at 4pm!!! back home I (and most) take a tea break at that time, preparing for another 2-3 hours of work.

 

 

 

 

 

The only blot (if I may use the rough term) that I found was the Tivoli entertainment park. Garish, noisy and totally out of place. It is extremely popular and must be great from the inside, but I hadn’t come this far to go into an amusement park, especially when there were much more interesting things to explore. Sadly I just had a day and needed to change after all the strenuous cycling. Reaching back I found a boisterous Brazilian in my dorm who had just arrived, also for the first time in the country.

We struck a conversation and I learnt she was on her way to Ibiza, to get drunk and party hard (as if Brazil is not good enough for that). So we thought of getting her a little practice and went to the local Hard Rock Cafe, which is unlike any other you would visit. It has an unmistakable European feel and most of the patrons prefer to sit on the sidewalk rather than the air-conditioned interiors. I do not remember much after that (I was tired you see), except that we had an amazing conversation and coupled with some great Danish beer (not Carlsberg though).

There is much much more to explore in the city, sadly I cannot bring it all out here – and frankly would not want to either. Safe to say that the day and half I spent there has left me hungry for more and if I were ever be given a chance to pick a city to live in, I would choose Copenhagen with my eyes closed. Don’t get me wrong, Paris is beautiful and a treat to visit, Rome is awe inspiring, London feels so alive, but if you wan to LIVE somewhere and enjoy your existence on Earth as god desired it to be, then Copenhagen is the closest that you can get to it.

Victoria Concordia Crescit

Posted on by
2

I was very excited in anticipation for the last weekend. It promised much drinking with friends, music, travel and above all the day Arsenal finally broke their drought of trophies. So nothing then could be more painful when the two fate-full days disappointed in most respects (except for the drinking with friends part though, thank god for that!). The best maybe, was the nail-biting India-England match (and you know its sad when I’ve to quote a cricket match as the weekend’s high point).

Anyways let’s be focussed on the beautiful game here. It was termed to be the day when Arsene Wenger’s philosophy bore its first (albeit small) fruit. It was to be the culmination of endless hours spent by young stars such like Wilshere, Nasri and Van Persie, toiling towards perfect footballing finesse. And most importantly, it was when millions of Gunners worldwide would be rewarded for their patience and trust in everything the club stands for.

Fact they say is often stranger than fiction, and so it turned out in this case. The moment and fervent anticipation got a wee bit to the young players, ofcourse compounded by the absence of their mercurial captain. The Gunners then, never got into full flow, except for a brief period in the second half, and in the end succumbed to the kind of mistake they are always vilified for.

A mix up between the precocious goalkeeper and (relatively) experienced Koscielny led to the most embarrassing of goals, though that is lesser of the two evils considering how deflated it would have left the players. I do not need to repeat here the barrage of the world’s media on Wenger’s stubborn refusal to get a reliable keeper and his lackadaisical approach towards shoring his team’s defences.

While the above might be true (personally I don’t agree), but even if so, can anyone take away from us the mesmerising goal that was scored by Van Persie. Richard Williams called it one of the most beautiful goals ever scored in a Wembley final, and it indeed was quintessentially Arsenal. A fast flowing counter attack followed by a thundering strike from Wilshere which unfortunately bounced off the woodwork. Only to be collected by a fleet-footed Arshavin, and his cross was volleyed goal-bound by an acrobatic Van Persie.

But as always with Arsenal, it had to be bittersweet, and that acrobatic shot left Van Persie with a knock, which now rules him out of the Barca return tie in the Champions League. Strangely that is not what worries me. What does is the fact that while we are good enough to trouble excellent outfits like Barcelona and top teams in the League, we do still have that soft belly when facing stubborn physical teams that look for breaking our rhythm and blocking all entries to goal. In short we still find it hard to win ugly.

Also lacking is the impetus when the best are missing. I mean Rosicky is nowhere as good as he should be, Bendtner is an enigma to say the least, and that is not what you expect from your bench strength. Where is the hunger that was so innate in Viera and Henry. Bendtner seems almost casual about the way he carries himself on the pitch. As if the opponents would feel obliged and let him score.

But despite all this I still follow the club and would continue to do so forever. There are a million reasons for it, but if I’ve to point out only one, then it is that we don’t buy talent. We do it the hard way, by nurturing them and watching the sapling grow and finally bear fruit. And the world is proof that every time an Arsenal team walks out on the pitch, there is anticipation in the air. We know that things might turn pear-shaped, but with increasing frequency the team is mesmerising one and all, displaying pure, flowing and positive football.

Remember this....not long now :)

For all the detractors, let me point out that in the long history of English football, we still are the only ones alongwith Preston North End to have gone through an entire season undefeated. The invisible era might seem like a faded memory to all Manchester and Chelsea fans, but mind you it was the same manager who brought about it, and he can’t be taken lightly. This season I believe is the tipping point and that elusive trophy is certainly not far now (whatever the omens might be).

We are the Arsenal, and make no mistake, we are as hungry for trophies as all the rest. Victoria Concordia Crescit or “victory through harmony” that is the motto of Arsenal football club, and for sure the current managers believes in it to the hilt. If it takes a few more months for that motto, and the philosophy inspired by it to bear fruit, then so be it. We’ll wait Arsene, cause when it manifests, nothing would be sweeter.

Related Articles

Tribute to a True Champion

Posted on by
1

Source: Unhindered by Talent

Well I was supposed to pen this last week (the day his retirement became official), but seriously, despite how much I’ve followed Lance, read and wrote about him, I was quite tied for words this time. I mean how do you describe a person – no a phenomenon – like Lance Armstrong. Nothing typed could remotely do justice and maybe its apt to say that as the legend walks into the sunset, it definitely is the end of an era.

That may be the lamest of cliches to describe the iconic sportsman (note I consciously do not use the word cyclist), but then for things that are difficult to be put into words, one ends up resorting to cliches. Am sure by now all of you know that on 16 Feb the American cyclist and seven times Tour de France winner decided to call it quits from competing in any more events (himself terming it Retirement 2.0).

His swansong was the Tour Down Under, an event which must hold some significance to him considering he chose it to launch his comeback three years ago. There was not to be any fairy tale ending as he finished a modest (or by his own high standards – below par) 67th overall. Surprisingly he hardly spoke to the eagerly waiting press, maybe a little overwhelmed by the occasion himself.

Much has been written and read about his bout with cancer, the dodged determination during treatment and miraculous recovery crowned by a place in sport’s hall of fame (and its no point me repeating that here). “Lance Armstrong’s story is the stuff of legends” it says on the back cover of his maiden book, and that probably is the best way to summarise the events in the riders life, especially in the last millennium. If a book can cause change in the world and touch people’s lives for the better, I am yet to find a more suitable one.

But more than anything else, more than the bestselling book, more than the multiple records he set, more than the fact that he single handily revived the sport of cycling, is his commitment to the Livestrong foundation. While its almost a fad nowadays for celebrities to patronise a charity or two, its hard to find anyone so involved with the process.

Lance is everywhere, organising events, participating in them, hell he even faced the wrath of Le Tour officials for changing his team’s jersey on the final day to bring attention to the fight against cancer. Maybe that is the reason I chose the pic above for this post and not one of several capturing his intense determination and steely resolve while tacking a monstrous Col or battling laws of physics during a time trial.

There will be those who will point to the several allegations against him and the ongoing investigation by the US Food and Drug Administration. All I got to say is till anyone’s got corroborative evidence, all is hot air. I mean there have been allegations galore in sports, more so in cycling, but the man’s never been found wanting in a test, and mind you he’s been at the receiving end of a million needles.

But proof or no proof, the fact remains that for his legion of fans and many more fighting patients, all this does not matter. They do not care about the minutiae being quoted by officials, they don’t give a damn for conspiracy theories, because for them Lance is a beacon of hope, he is the living proof of the President’s oft quoted line “Yes we can.”

For me personally, I owe him much to him for a very trying period in my life. No, I’m not a cancer survivor (thank god for that), but Lance did touch my life in a very special way and I can never for one forget the inspiration and resolve I got from him. There are sportsmen and then there are legends, and Lance fits the bill perfectly if there ever was one.

I may have got a bit emotional in the post, but it is such a moment. Not everyday do we get moments in sports that far surpass their circle of influence. And when the harbinger of such moments fades into history, there will always be a emptiness hard to fill. In the end, I’ll only quote what Lance said in his farewell interview “Never say never.” Well he clarified that it was in jest and not relating to any future comeback, but am sure his followers got the message clear – Never say never…..

Great India Road Trip

Posted on by
7

It all started with an innocuous thought between a few of friends – Gaurav Sahai, Bibin Abraham and myself – sharing drinks sitting across the Arabian sea. Thinking of an apt way to commemorate the 275th anniversary of Naval Dockyard Mumbai, we thought of driving to all the major bases and command organisations of the Indian Navy. Well that plan extrapolated – and how!

The Naval Dockyard, Mumbai was established in 1735 to cater to the demands of the then nascent ship building industry of India. The Yard has since grown in leaps and bounds, serving the nation right from the two World Wars, to supporting the cutting edge warships and submarines today. It boasts of having built the oldest ship afloat presently, the HMS Trincomalee, and has the proud distinction of being the premium technical defence establishment and one of the oldest in the whole of Asia.

So, to commemorate the occasion in a befitting way (and in the bargain live a long cherished dream), our small team of four led by Commodore SK Tewari set about planning the road trip, which now aimed at encompassing a good deal of our vast country. The hunt for sponsors took us from dear old Maruti-Suzuki to the mighty Volkswagen group.

With mixed reactions from various manufacturers, we hit luck by getting in touch with Overdrive mag – the leading automobile print journal in the country. Team Overdrive were extremely positive in helping us organise this drive (with several other ideas in addition) and got us in touch with Toyota. The Japanese are world leaders in four-wheeler production and their enthusiasm and commitment shown towards our event left us in little doubt about the main partners for the expedition.

Toyota Landcruiser is a synonym with off-roading and the first image that comes to mind are white liveried UN vehicles thrashing across the battlegrounds of the middle east and Africa. So it was delight to know that the company were to provide us with the flagship LC200, Landcruiser Prado, Fortuner and Innova for the duration of the expedition.

Then started the hunt for fuel sponsors, and thankfully this was much easier, for the Navy is a major customer of the Indian Oil Corporation. The management at IOC were approached and consented to cater to the car’s thirst (which knowing the beasts, would be tremendous).

The toughest phase though was planning and finalising the route. Everyone had suggestions and pre-conceived notions. While some wanted to skip the desert in Rajasthan, others were not too keen to drive through some parts in the Bihar-Jharkand belt. Though one thing we all were keen was to drive to Khardung La; alas that was not to be as the dates of our expedition fell during the beginning of winters (we were to flag off from the historic Lion gate of the Naval Dockyard on 07 Nov).

Finally we decided on a route consisting of four legs, first being from Mumbai to Amritsar via Koteshwar – the westernmost point of mainland India – and Jaisalmer. Second leg took us through the enigmatic states of UP and Bihar uptill Kolkata. The return journey had us navigating the scenic eastern and western coasts, touching Pondicherry, Kanyakumari, Kochi and Goa. Each car was driven by a set of three officers from the Naval Dockyard with a core team of Bibin, self and PP Singh doing the complete circuit. The remaining officers changed after the completion of each leg, so as to provide the opportunity to a wider pool of personnel.

The expedition finally culminated on 04 Dec, which is “Navy day” celebrated to commemorate the decisive Naval victory over Pakistan in the 1971 war. Overall, it was an epic journey for all participants which taught us a lot about our diverse country, all the while involving a bit of fun with some extremely impressive machinery. The cars were simply mind-blowing in their ability to handle any terrain thrown at them, with even the Innova managing to rough it out to quite some extent.

Toyota’s fabled dependability and renowned customer support were certainly a boon to the expedition. Yes, there were hiccups as would be expected with such a long trip, but they were insignificant in the broader picture. Now I cannot wait to repeat such a trip, this time probably incorporating the extreme north and the eastern region of our country. I’m sure someone would need to celebrate the 276th anniversary of the Yard too!

ps: and hey if you liked this trip, check it out & vote on Cleartrip here



Why do we all love Barney Stinson

Posted on by
3

10 reason’s we all love Barney Stinson (even if we may admit it or not):

1.  For his awesome awesomeness :P

2.  Come on guys, somewhere inside, all of us want to be Barney Stinson. And this applies to all the Marshalls out there too. You know it, you envy the crazy Barneys out there.

3.  His “thinking; such a waste of time” attitude.

4.  His frankness in general, not hiding his promiscuity nor his intentions.

5.  His “never give up” attitude ;)

6.  The way he “just does things” in an impulse.

7.  For his “perfect” job. I mean we would kill for such a “do nothing, get paid tons” job.

8.  His gifts to mankind – Bro Code and The Playbook

9.  Legen – wait for it – dary! lol…

10.  And if for nothing else, if it were only down to just ONE reason, it’s because he got Lily back to Marshall.

I would love comments suggesting if I’ve missed out on any other befitting “likes” (am sure there are millions of them out there :P )

Love all

Alekh

ps: girls don’t leave your numbers in the comments box, mail them to me ;)

Image courtesy Lolo

Is this the much feared anti-football

Posted on by
Reply

Nothing gets past this billion dollar corporate wall

Wednesday’s match between Arsenal and Manchester City might have been a regular festive season fixture, and maybe one whose result was music to the red side of Manchester, but it ended up reasserting an ugly side of the modern game. Even an amateur would not have failed to notice the fecund football on display by the men in blue, who played almost the entire match in a 9-0-1 formation (and that “one” player too ventured into the rival half only very occasionally).

Now I know am an Arsenal fan and obviously a bit frustrated, but I just need to bring out Mr Mancini’s post match comment to stress my point here. The blues manager said, “I prefer one point and being booed than no points and being applauded off the pitch.” Right then, so a scenario of being applauded off the pitch with ALL THREE POINTS never occurred to the Italian. It’s all very obvious that right from the start Man City came to the Emirates with a single goal – that of not letting the rivals score one over them. And that is a perfectly understandable strategy, only that this time, they went about doing this without intending to score one themselves.

Now all people who follow football (more precisely the EPL) know the story. Few years ago a certain Mr Murdoch managed to squeeze the weekend game into tiny bits and transmit them thousands of miles across, to lands where the beautiful game was just beginning to pick up. Soon people were singing “You’ll never walk alone” from the deserts of Africa to the bazaars of Indonesia. All well, but it was only a while before the corporate crocodiles came out of the water and begun swallowing clubs, in the process dragging them inside the ever flowing river of liquidity.

Ok so the puns apart Man City, like many other clubs were bought by a zillionaire who empowered the (un)lucky manager with more money then he actually needed. Now one would assume then for Mr Mancini to build an “Arselona” but sadly as before (with Chelsea and others), he only focussed on the shortest way to success – and that often meant “bully your way to the nearest trophy”. Isn’t it a funny coincidence that none of the so-called billionaire clubs are renowned for their eye-catching football (and I would include Real Madrid here). On the other hand more attractive clubs – Barcelona (first) and Arsenal – continue to be owned by the community (and not some Mr Money-in-the-banks) with more realistic aspirations.

But all of this was still acceptable till last weekend when it all descended to an altogether different low. Even before Mr Mancini’s comments, the sight of Gareth Barry crawling till the diagonally opposite touchline (for a supposed “injury”) when he was inches off the goal line, gave a different meaning to the term time-wasting. And I do not even need to explain what a statistic of ZERO shots on target speaks of a team.

Now I’ve seen quite a few dull draws in football, including Greece defending their way to European glory in 2004, but even in those games there was an effort – or atleast a semblance of it in all but the dullest – for the players to try and break the opposition defence and attempt to put the ball into the net (Greece did so atleast once in all games). Yes the Arsenal of old were often revered for their leak-proof defence, yet at the same time they were also feared for their incisive counter-attack. Where on wednesday then was that long, defence splitting pass; or the fast break that sent adrenaline rushing in your veins. Why was a par-excellence and tenacious striker like Tevez reduced to ambling near the half-line and occasionally chase balls lobbed towards Fabianski.

The answer may lie in the unreasonable pressure on Mr Mancini to produce results (read trophies). Money they say can’t buy happiness, but billionaire owners of football clubs seem to believe it certainly can buy success. Which may be partly true, but success is not fast food and needs to be cooked well for it to really taste sweet. But the pressure ensures Mr Mancini focuses more on eking out “strategic” results which bring him on top at the end of the season – even if at the cost of the game itself.

For all my critics (yes Arsenal have won NOTHING since 2005) and proponents of the “win dirty” philosophy, I don’t want every club to be Barcelona – that would kill variety. I am perfectly well with hard defending teams like Stoke and Birmingham, but please have attack atleast as your plan B. Take a shot at the goal, you never know you might get lucky as the ball ricochets off a defender, and you leave the pitch with all three points. And then Mr Mancini, it won’t matter if you are booed off it or applauded, cause you would have given the fans what they came for – 90 minutes of the beautiful game.