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Get Well Soon Fabrice

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It was a usual FA cup quarter-final draw. Two Premiership teams battling it out to keep their silverware dreams for the season alive. There was passion, there was drama, there was tension, there was commitment. And with two early goals at both ends, the match was building up to be a cracker. And then it went horribly wrong.

Just before half-time Bolton’s No 6, Fabrice Muamba collapsed to ground. It was quite bizarre as there appeared to be no challenge from any player, not even an accidental contact. But within seconds the Tottenham players were gesticulating wildly, calling for the medics to rush onto the field. As a dazed crowd and TV audience watched for the next ten minutes, medical staff from both clubs tried to resuscitate the player, administering CPR and using a defibrillator.

After the agonising wait, Fabrice had to be carried off on a stretcher, with a stunned crowd chanting his name in unison. There were no rivalries now, just a single pool of fans supporting a competitive player fighting not for the ball – but his life. There was still much confusion over the player’s condition, but it was pretty clear the signs were not looking good.

Referee Howard Webb having consulted both team captains and management, reached the sensible conclusion of abandoning the match. It would be impossible to ask the shocked players to battle it out on the pitch, with their minds elsewhere. Not to mention it would have been almost disrespectful to Muamba had the proceedings went on as normal. The crowd – so often vilified for being chaotic and incendiary – respected the decision and filed out peacefully, though most were crying or dazed.

In the days that have passed since then, Muamba fights for his life. Though his condition has certainly improved (especially in the last 24hrs) and he is responding, yet the situation remains critical. His commitment to the club and the sport is clear in his first words to his father. “Did we lose?” asked Fabrice, still under intensive care. Such dedication is only expected of soldiers and sports persons, and is shockingly pleasing in today’s cynical corporate world.

The 23-year-old originates from Congo (erstwhile Zaire), and was accorded asylum in England after his parents had fled their native country due to political skirmishes. He was part of Arsenal’s youth system before moving to Birmingham and eventually to his current club in 2008. Fabrice’s talent has been recognised at the national level too, as he captained England’s U-19 team and went on to represented the U-21 in 2007.

It comes as a shock to many that such a young, supremely fit person who regularly has medicals could suffer such a catastrophe. But it’s not the first time such a tragedy has occurred on a football pitch. There have been worse instances with players suffering fatal attacks on the pitch, however this has to be the most high-profile incident in recent times. It’s never a good sight to see a sportsperson (in any sport) sprawling on the field in agony. We have seen some horrible injuries in the sport, and each time it makes one feel sick in the stomach.

On the bright side the situation seems to be getting better and thankfully it wasn’t a bad tackle or any other such misdemeanour that prompted the incident. Also pleasing to see was the response of the medical teams and how well equipped they were  to handle the matter as best could be in the stadium. Worse could have happened for sure had the Premier League not enforced strict regulations for clubs to place adequate medical staff and facilities on pitch in every match.

We all have seen or heard of the tragedy in 1991 at Imola, where the most revered sportsperson of his era lost his life doing what he did best. Ayrton Senna was a darling of millions, whose almost divine talent was burning up race circuits all over the world. Yet all the talent and legion of fans could not save him from crashing to death in Italy on that fateful day (sadly less known to most people, Austrian rookie driver Ronald Ratzenberger had died on the track only a day before). That incident was probably the most high-profile death in a sporting arena and was to be the instigator to an obsession with safety in Formula 1.

In case of football, thankfully conditions are less risky and actions have already been taken by the FA. Though here as well, it was Peter Cech’s head injury in 2006 which shook the administrators into tightening the laws and the reaction at White Hart Lane on saturday proved that the right steps have been taken.

Also the referee Howard Webb needs to be commended on the swift and decisive action he took in consulting the teams and calling the match off. Of course there was no way a match could go on after the events, yet it was heartening to see the various authorities involved act in unison. Last but definitely not the least was the incredible reaction of the crowd, who chanted Muamba’s name in the hope the player is buoyed by the vocal support. But more importantly was the manner in which they respected the official’s decision to abandon the match.

There was not one shout or stupid comment (though eventually a 21-year-old did get arrested for a vitriolic tweet, but that was outside the stadium) and most of the crowd could be seen visibly moved, many with tears in the eyes and hands clasped in prayer. To the critics who often claim the sport is encouraging tribal rivalries, this proves that humanity still beats at the heart of the game and its million fans.

It wasn’t just the local supporters, but in the ensuing minutes the internet was abuzz with support for the stricken player. As millions tweeted “Pray4Muamba”, support from all aspects of media and various portals came flooding in. The footballing community showed support both within and outside the country with players and fans across various leagues offering their wishes to Muamba and his family.

However the Bolton captain brought out an irony, “It is the first time in my nearly 19 years in the game that I have seen a stadium unite,” he said. “It was touching but I was laying in bed thinking how sad it was as well. As professionals, we put a lot of hours in. We work hard and make a lot of sacrifices. But it seems that the only way you are going to get a ripple of applause away from your own ground is to get carried off on a stretcher.”

While that is true however you cannot blame the crowd for being partisan. Football is religion to many and the players themselves feed on the crowd. That’s precisely why away fixtures prove to be so tricky. In a perfect world fans would applaud a well crafted goal by the opposition; but in reality, if they have the heart to get behind an injured player, that will do.

At this moment my prayers (as million others) go out for Fabrice and his family. Hope he makes it through this ordeal and it would be a great sight to see him take to the field one day, when it happens. There are many instances of players returning from dreaded injuries or sickness, so there is always hope for him. The legendary Liverpool manager Bill Shankley, once famously said, “Some people say football is a matter of life and death. I’m extremely disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.” In current circumstances, am sure the great man himself would have rethought his words (his club fans below seem to agree).

ps: Since my initial post, I came across the touching pic below on Tumblr, taken by kawee6281. As it says in the original post, “When people ask me why I love football, this is the reason I tell them – community.”

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Shopaholic!!!

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I’ve never been as addicted to twitter as on 31 Aug 11. I enjoy the social networking portal but have always used it sparingly and never from the confines of my BlackBerry smart phone. But such was my desperation or excitement (choose as you deem fit) that me and my phone became one on this crucial day.

I did not have access to internet on my laptop, so was switching between several live blogs on my phone to the annoyance of my parents, but nothing on this day could make me leave the confines of the digital web. To anyone who has still not grasped the hallowed event (or is surprised finding me writing about shopping), I’m talking about the “Transfer Deadline Day” of European football.

At the cost of repetition, this is the last day clubs may offload or (more importantly) contract new players in their teams. And this year it was almost the season decider for Arsenal – or so the media made it out to be. Not surprising, considering the club had on the previous weekend been subjected to a humiliating 8-2 defeat by their title rivals Manchester United. The score line alone shouts disaster, that it has never occurred in the 115 years preceding last sunday made it one of humongous proportions.

So there I sat in a little town in northern India reading with bated breath the transfer rumours as if am reading my probable b’day gift list. Korean captain Chu Young Park had already moved in the previous day, and all was set for the Brazilian Andre Santos and German Per Mertasacker to join him any moment. But the latter two were still to be confirmed “officially” and there was the desperate issue of quality midfielders.

While my prayers were directed towards an unlikely move of Edin Hazard, there were rumours about M’Ville, Mikel Arteta, Gary Cahill and Yossi Benyaoun. My heartbeats danced with every rise and dip in hopes as shouted by @SkySportsMobile tweets and several others.

I cursed when it became clear we are not chasing the French club’s players and that turned to bitterness as Arteta’s bid seemed to die down too. Finally though sanity prevailed and we notched both Arteta and Yossi to make the agony of the hours seemingly worthwhile.

Today as I look back I find it almost childish to have risked the health of my body’s engine on events out of my reach and of which, frankly I do not have a deep enough understanding as compared to the men in charge of the club. But I was not alone, with me were millions who ran twitter’s trends crazy with #deadlineday running tops both worldwide and in India.

The answer then is simple – this is football, this is sport, this is human nature. It is the connect we feel for the club, its well-being somewhere intricately connected to our moods. Hence it was crucial for me not to feel gutted and frustrated for the next six months that a couple of defenders and mid field generals be added to the team. It was crucial for sanity to prevail over the season that I see through this tumultuous day.

This is the call of sport, which in its grandiose entirety surpasses the moment of glory. It’s built on a base of emotions running every single day – with or without on field action. It is also the ruthless nature of the sport that we nonchalantly bade goodbye (sometimes even that courtesy is forsaken) to heroes of yore and conveniently replace them with new demi-gods.

Many say it is a display of selfish and tribal emotions without a sense of logic and humanity. Well firstly where did love ever speak the language of logic! And selfish of course we are. That’s the reason we many a times pray for a neutral team’s defeat more than we pray for our victory. That is the instigator for a chorus of boos to unsettle a weak and under fire opponent.

Call it tribal, but few other aspects of human life can claim to churn such emotions in us. In a matter of minutes we go from plucking our scalp off, to crying hoarse with delight (and in the case of Arsenal lately, the other way round). This unknown connect is what makes me wait with bated breath for a Hazard to sign for our club.

Humans have always been addicted to hero worshipping. It was the warlords in the old days, which moved on to an ephemeral “god” (which sadly continues) and today has moved on to sports. These “heroes” offer a benchmark for a mortal like me to emulate. He/she gives me the joy of achievement which in my capability I never can. And once the connect is established – like faith – its mighty tough to break.

Football clubs therefore enjoy the kind of brand loyalty, business houses would kill for. Imagine a band of followers who stick with your product despite having better options elsewhere. A following that in many cases is passed down generations. And a product, which sells without much guarantee or advertisement. Yes fans do revolt and demand a certain level of performance, but deep within they have chosen the club with its inherent imperfections. I would go as far as to say that on many a occassions it’s these imperfections that hold the bond.

I know Barcelona is the best there is now, but nothing could make me shift allegiances despite the obvious fact. I enjoy Arsenal not only because they win (and yes they do win a lot). I follow them because somewhere inside me I find myself in the club. I connect to their austere ways of doing business, I favour their talent nurturing policy, I revere the traditions of a 125 years.

So while we still could not land Hazard, I am happy with what Arsene Wenger has achieved. A healthy pack of talented and proven players for less than an Andy Carroll or a Fernando Torres. That is so Arsenal, and that is good enough for me to stay ever faithful and ever honest. Victoria Concordia Crescit is our motto and I believe in that to the hilt. Now to cheer a string of victories, bring ‘em on!!!

Is this the much feared anti-football

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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.