Celebrate You Must Manu Bhaker, But Also Cut Some Slack For The Likes Of Deepika Kumari

During the T20 World Cup telecast, I often felt the commentary to be pedestrian and trite with the so-called experts, who had played the game at the highest level, offering nothing new that anything a half-decent fan wouldn't know already.

They were saying obvious things like, when the fielder dropped back to fine leg or long leg, the bowler is going to attempt a short ball. Save for an occasional insight or two, the expert commentary, as it is the case these days, was just a collection of cliches and predictable observations.

So what really separates these privileged insiders and the sporting laity, as it were? In the book What Sports Tell Us About Life, Ed Smith, the former first-class cricketer-turned-commentator, takes this question square on.

And he says that the many characteristics that separate mere fans from experts have nothing much to do with knowledge or learning of sport. Instead, he puts it all down to temperament. "It is temperament that determines how you watch sport, what you see as you do, which parts of your personality the stuff reaches, and how deep it goes..."

These lines came rushing to the memory two days back when there was a torrent of vituperative abuse on the Indian archers, especially Deepika Kumari and Ankita Bhakat, who had an outing to forget against the Netherlands in the Paris Olympics.

While disappointment at what was indeed a shockingly poor show was understandable, the manner in which it was expressed was downright shocking and staggering. 

The 'lay fans' were almost wishing death for Deepika Kumari and her hapless teammates, only those with any real understanding of sport were reacting with anything resembling empathy. One Twitter (now X) user declared unequivocally that Deepika Kumari is the "biggest fraud in history of Indian sports".

The four-time Olympian, gold medal winner in archery world cups twice, was being put down as an "embarrassment to the nation". This daughter of a poor auto driver in Ranchi, a Padma Shri and Arjuna Award winner, was being peremptorily dismissed as the "most overhyped athlete of the nation”.

Tennis great Roger Federer recently put things in top-tier sport in great perspective. The 20-time Grand Slam champion played 1,526 singles matches over more than two decades of his professional career and won nearly 80 per cent of them, including a record eight men's singles titles at Wimbledon.

But when Federer's lifetime performance gets broken down point by point, his winning percentage erodes to 54 per cent.

"Even top-ranked tennis players win barely more than half of the points they play. You lose every second point on average," he said. If this is the story of a certified, imagine what it is for lesser mortals in sports. 

Olympians Have To Be Obsessive

Of course, this is not a one-off and peculiar to Olympic participants alone. Just last year, we saw the fans venting it out vilely on Indian cricketers after the team lost in the finals of World Cup ODI in Ahmedabad. In the past, cricketers' houses have been attacked after failures of the team.

While those decidedly shameful incidents, one at least understood that cricket had a deep emotional connect to Indians. They follow it with unbelievable passion.

Even  though their sense of entitlement that India should always win is silly and unrealistic, the fans do spend money following cricket and have a good grasp of the game and its history and players.   

But most of the fans who are baying for Deepika Kumari's blood on X (formerly Twitter) and other social media platforms wouldn't conceivably know what it takes to be an Olympian, especially in phlegmatic pursuits like archery, shooting, rowing.

Archery, like shooting, is an internal sport, the movements minor, yet full of subtle skills and steady mind and body. To understand and appreciate sports like archery requires some nuance and imagination.

To aim and nail the bullseye, which is no more than a small splotch, demands perfection and precision. To be that perfect every day is the de rigueur of this esoteric venture. A slip up here or shake there, can unhinge hours, months, years and decades of  practice. Shaolin warriors would have less taxing schedules. 

Also, to be an Olympic champion calls for monkish one-pointedness and stubbornness that can be scary and emotionally taxing. Abhinav Bindra, India's first-ever individual Olympic gold medallist, used to wake up at 3am and practise at his range. He later confessed that the inner dream to be successful at the Olympics wouldn't let him sleep. The journey to the top is often unbearably taxing.

His book A Shot At History has the revealing tagline "My Obsessive Journey to Olympic Gold". It was so all-consuming that he used to feel empty and unhappy even after shooting perfect 100s six times in a row. You don't become an Olympic champion with an every-day mental makeup. And also, after becoming a champion, comes the emotional draining.

Most Olympic medalists have had psychological issues post their triumphs. It is not as if their achievements lead to unmitigated moments of celebration. They come at a huge personal cost.  

Indian Olympians Up Against History

Aside from the weight of their sport, Indian sportspersons in the Olympics are also laid low by the baggage of the country's shambolic history at the games. It is as much a rival as the opponents on the field. 

Till this century, India at the Olympics has been a sorry and sob show. It is not as if we have actually come out of the axis of sporting mediocrity at the games, but at least these days it is not a wholesome story of negativity. 

The lay fans don't comprehend or appreciate the things that go into the making of an Olympian. Most of them are merely looking at the artificial and vicarious high that a sporting triumph by a fellow country man or woman brings. Most of them are not really invested in many Olympic sports. 

As an experiment this morning, I accosted a few youngsters on my morning walk and asked what specific event did Manu Bhaker win two bronze medals. Almost none of them (around eight to nine people) did not know about her event (for the record, the 10m air pistol mixed team and women).

But all of them couldn't stop praising the young Manu. In a sense, such fawning accolades, while agreeable, is no different from the carping criticism of Deepika. These are not meant really for the individuals. It is for the eventual result. Seen this way, it must be sobering for Manu and Sarabjot Singh.

But forget pop psychology. Do celebrate Manu and her sterling achievements. But be more understanding in your evaluation of Deepika Kumari and team. When you can't clap, don't slap, can be fans' approach.

For, sports, despite the celebration of successes, is all about failure and handling of the same. In a grand slam tennis tournament, 127 singles players go back home as losers. Only one returns as winner.  

As the celebrated writer Simon Barnes put in his book The Meaning of Sport, "All journeys in sport end in failure: for even the champion who retires at the top is admitting that he has been defeated by Time".

At 30, Deepika Kumari, one would think, still has time left on her career. As fans, let's bide ours.