When Champions Get Their Due!

It’s a cold and chilly evening at the Stade Pierre Mauroy in Lille, France. The French team, having gone down 1-2 the previous night, nominate veteran Richard Gasquet as their messiah for the third singles rubber. Some consider it France’s desperate attempt to stay in the competition by handing the wheel to the most experienced driver. Others see it as an act of tactical brilliance adding to the meticulously chosen clay court in order to foil the opposition’s plans of celebrating their first ever Davis Cup title.

At the other end, the hopes of a whole nation are resting on the one man they believe is habile enough to gift them what they deserve. Some fans have travelled close to 700 kilometers to watch him create history. Others are natives who can’t help but cheer for him considering the aura he exuberates. At a moment when a country stands on the verge of being ‘crowned’ into an empire, who better to steer the ship than the man with the most majestic persona. Roger Federer! Could there be anyone else?

Switzerland are in the final after 22 years and who knows when’s the next going to come. It’s already been decided that the match will go down in history despite the outcome, but for Federer it is just another match. It is just another obstacle. Non-playing skipper Severin Luthi, as cold as the wintry winds outside, gets his team in a huddle. They might be from a country with 8 million people, but right now it’s just that one person who matters. They leave him to it. Fingers crossed. “Time,” the chair umpire says!

At almost around the same time, some 6700 kilometers away, the Yas Marina circuit in Abu Dhabi is ‘marinating’ to host a desert duel that has the makings of an absolute classic. Lewis Hamilton, sitting in his polished and unrivalled Mercedes, is thinking about the penultimate corner of the race track that literally derailed his pole position contention the previous evening. Failing to win the title would hand the Brit the unwanted record of becoming the first driver to win four races in a row and not win the title.

His teammate, title-rival and pole-sitter Nico Rosberg, meanwhile, is venerating F1 supremo Bernie Ecclestone for introducing the double-points concept that gives the German a fighting chance to steal the title from Hamilton’s grasps despite winning just 5 races in the season. There are a gazillion permutations and combinations that could decide the title, but all Nico is thinking is to lead the race from start till finish and hope Lewis squanders second. Either that or he’s hoping for Lewis to crash.

The universe, on the other hand, seems to be in Hamilton’s corner. For the last two years Abu Dhabi has witnessed rain on November 23. But not today! Not when a personage like Lewis is in title contention. Not when the United Kingdom has eyes on its ‘favorite’ son. Not when Prince Harry is in attendance.

Oh! The audacity if it rains! The track is cleared off. All support staff, friends and family make their way to the paddock. The cars line up after the formation lap. Nico looks back at Lewis. As if to say, “It’s been one helluva ride mate.” Lewis looks at him and then up towards the sky. The instinctive devil in him says “All right, bring on the rain.” The conscientious pilot says “Let’s keep it simple, shall we?” The engines roar. The drivers wait for the five lights. One! Two! Three! Four! Five! And it’s “Lights out in Abu Dhabi!”

Meanwhile, Gasquet, who’s 2-2 head-to-head record against Federer on clay was probably the biggest catalyst for him being nominated ahead of Jo-Wilfried Tsonga and Gael Monfils, seems to be digging deep to stay alive in the first set. Federer’s all over him and in no time has taken a 3-2 lead that too on a surface that has been baptized as ‘legend killer’. Gasquet calls for his towel. The ball girl stares into his eyes as if to say “It’s not your fault. You’re just up against a freight train.” Richard Gasquet says nothing!

The Frenchman walks over slowly to his side of the court. His racquet dragging behind him as if to manifest an image of an old man being tormented on a football field by bunch of expeditious ruffians. At 28 years of age, he’s neither the oldest nor the fastest on the court. Both of those titles belong to Roger tonight. Back that up with some immaculate volley angles and some gravity-defying drops shots and somewhere in Spain Uncle Toni, with his dropped jaw, tells Rafa to start practicing for Roland Garros.

Federer to serve! His “Pirlo-esque” approach to the game is what makes him, at 33, a man possessed to set the records straight. He looks up once. Looks back down. Throws the ball in the air and Boom! Ace! 15-0! Gasquet can’t believe it. The comprehensive master plan of using clay as a surface to stave off the Swiss Maestro has been effectuated. But why is it not effective tonight? No time to think. Federer looks up again then back to the ball. Just one look is enough. Boom! Ace No. 2! 30-0! Two more times & 4-2 it is.

Back in Abu Dhabi, Hamilton has done just what was expected off him. As the cars head into the first corner, the 2008 world champion’s adept driving helps him vroom past Rosberg in no time to take the lead. There’s a reason why Lewis deserves the title this year and he’s just showed a glimpse of that. Probably the only driver on the circuit today who’s conjured the amalgamation of speed and braking to serene brilliance. His theory is simple – “master the speed, brake late on turns and kill those chicanes.”

Lewis lost the title in his ‘rookie’ season by a single point to Kimi Raikkonen due to technical snags in the last race. He won it a year later though by maneuvering a tranquil overtake on the last turn of the last lap of the last race outstripping Felipe Massa. Both Massa and Kimi are racing in Abu Dhabi tonight. But none can curb the prowess that Hamilton has. The Brit takes a 1.2 second lead on Rosberg after the first lap. Make that 2.7 seconds as he heads into his first pit stop 10 laps later. This one might be over soon!

Toto Wolff, Executive Director of Mercedes, looks at his screen under the setting sun and just can’t help believe what has happened. “Will people put this event to another conspiracy theory?” he thinks. Not so Mr. Wolff. Not this time. Maybe if Nico had tried to back Lewis into the Williams of Bottas and Massa. But the world saw what happened. The world knows Lewis, who’s used lesser fuel that Nico and has preserved his tyres better, deserves the championship and therefore no one is going to question you.

In the meantime, Federer is unveiling one of his greatest performances on clay. Like an opera singer enthralling the audience amidst the unruffled moonlight, Roger too is giving the Lille crowd a night to remember with staggering virtuosity. The 17-time Grand Slam champion wraps up the second set in spanking fashion and a historic title seems inevitable. But wait a minute. Can Gasquet come back in this one? Can France still win? All he needs to do is win the next three sets. Nah! Not tonight! Not any night!

Rosberg has better chance of winning the title though. He’s on fire with two successive fastest laps and, in stunning chain of events, is reducing the gap on Hamilton. Fox Sports commentator Alex Yoong has just been interrupted by a Mercedes team radio message. Who’s it for? Rosberg, of course! “All right Nico, you need to conserve your rear brakes. Too much pressure on the energy unit.” “What? Conserve energy?” Nico thinks. No way. Not when the race of his life is on. And then suddenly, disaster strikes!

Elsewhere Gasquet is praying to the heavens above to end his affliction. He’s splitting into pieces as Federer, who’s moving around the court like a gazelle, is taking the whole of France to the cleaners with his sumptuous play. He’s a game away from possessing the extraordinary feat of winning all the Grand Slams and the Davis Cup. Laver, Agassi, Nadal and now Federer! A league of extraordinary gentlemen indeed! “Time to finish this,” Federer tells himself. 15-0! 30-0! 40-0! Three championship points! Death serving at its best!

“I’m losing engine power!” exclaims Nico Rosberg in the interim. Guess pushing too hard has not worked in the German’s favour. The gap between him and Hamilton is now 7.1 seconds. “Nico, your ERS has failed,” comes the reply from his team. "Can you investigate that now, please? And then tell me what to do,” domineers Rosberg. His team is all but helpful. “It’s not a computer that can be restarted,” they think. Rosberg looks to his right and sees Massa pass by. Then Bottas! Then Ricciardo! It’s over for him!

Federer serves out the match and falls to his knees on the orange surface in similar manner he did at the 2009 French Open. Tears roll down his cheeks. It was special back then and it is equally special tonight. Back then he had equaled Pete Sampras’ “inviolable” record of 14 Grand Slams. Tonight he completes his trophy cabinet for every tennis title possible. He looks over to his wife Mirka in the stands and then to Stanislas Wawrinka in the corner. The feud a few weeks ago seems futile now. History has been made! Switzerland are the 2014 Davis Cup champions. Time for the fireworks! Time for the confetti!

Hamilton, on the other hand, starts the final lap of the 2014 Formula 1 season with a 3.3 second gap over second-placed Felipe Massa. His title is indubitable now. He’s on the verge of becoming only fourth Briton after Sir Jackie Stewart, Graham Hill and Jim Clark to win two world titles. “Where’s Nico?” asks the commentator. “Down at 14th!” comes the reply. One can’t help but feel sad for Rosberg. So close yet so far. But that is how life goes. Alain Prost lost the title to Niki Lauda by half a point in 1984. Hamilton crosses the chequered flag for his 11th season win. But it’s the one that matters the most!

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. An apt phrase to describe the events in Abu Dhabi and Lille on the evening of November 23, 2014. Not only have Roger Federer and Lewis Hamilton gone through adverse circumstances in their careers, but both have also had to withstand the test of time and fend off critics. When they were at their lowest lows in life, the only thing that kept them going was the passion of the sport, the limitless talent they possess and the determination to take what’s theirs.

One might be going through the toughest of phases and there might be times when the light at the end of the tunnel might just be a mirage. At the end of day, however, persistence pays off because no one can stop champions getting their due. “Cometh the hour, cometh the man.” Well said Gladwin, well said!

Sebastian Vettel – The ‘Contract’ Killer!

Contracts, Shmontracts!

That’s what Paula Malai Ali had to say when she was asked to give her views on Sebastian Vettel’s imminent move to Ferrari. Can’t blame her anger, can we? Come to think about it contracts in any sport mean nothing if the right ‘amount’ of money is involved. Contracts have become the allegory equivalent of Novy Kapadia’s football commentary. We know that it is there, but does it really make a difference?

Football sees players signing 5-year multi mega deals every season only to leave 6 months later. Kind of a bummer, isn’t it? I mean why go through all the trouble and spend all that money just to have someone sign something that means nothing if, and when, someone else lures the said someone away by means of showering something (moolah) at ease? The answer – things need to be professional.

Okay! I guess it makes sense to an extent. I mean it’s kind of like a binding obligation that people need to respect in order to function in a civilized manner. It’s kind of like you washing your hands after using the toilet. It’s not necessary, but it’s advisable. But then why leave room for loopholes? Why have release clauses, buy-back clauses and all types of god forsaken clauses that are firm to suck happiness?

The answer to that might lie in the egocentric need of every individual to gain what’s best of a situation. All it took was a meticulously inserted clause in a sheet of paper called a “contract” and Vettel had an out. For Red Bull’s interest, I hope they too had some kind of a ridiculously repugnant clause that would guarantee them some kind of solace as well. Wait a minute. Of course they had. It was money! Right?

Now while Vettel’s move to Ferrari has still not been ‘officially’ confirmed, I guess because the “contract” must not have been signed, it’s just a matter of time that it will be. But what needs to be emphasized and scrutinized in the interim is the reason why the 4-time Formula 1 world champion decided to call it quits with Red Bull and decide that he wanted to ruin my team Ferrari for me.

Vettel seems to be at his diplomatic best when he said that the reason behind his leaving was that he wanted to "do something else, something new". Those are his exact words by the way. When loosely translated into simple English it means, “Fuck you Red Bull you couldn’t help me win those record-equaling 5 straight world titles you promised and therefore I’m off to do the implausible elsewhere.”

Not that he’s going to have any luck with Ferrari either. The Italian team are struggling themselves and run the risk of finishing outside the top three in the constructors’ championship for the first time since 1993. The last time Ferrari had a driver’s champion was in 2007 when Kimi ‘the iceman’ Raikkonen won. Mercedes on the other hand seem to have sorted their car out well for 2015 and it does not look likely that Ferrari would be able to match their ERS capabilities and present Vettel with a title-winning car.

Hmm! Okay! So if Vettel is smart enough he would obviously know that he won’t be winning anything for at least one more season. Unless of course if Ferrari pull off a Brawn. In that case Ferrari with Raikkonen and Vettel would be the undisputed coequal of Liverpool fielding Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo together. Possible? All right! I got carried away there. But you get the gist of what I’m saying.

Coming back to the “something else, something new” expression, Vettel, who in exemplary fashion, has rewarded the team that made him what he is today ever since being spotted as a 12-year old nothing has failed to comprehend that no one is naive enough to fall for his jinky antics anymore. Especially not this late into the season.

What does “doing something else, something new” even mean? He got bored of racing with Red Bull? Or was it the fact that the shade of navy blue makes him look fat? Maybe red is the color for glory (ahem Liverpool). Tell me Seb! I’m dying to know what the phrase means. Because what I feel is that the one season that a rival teams literally blows the wind out of your sails you decide that you’ve had enough.

“It’s not a decision based on the current results, it’s more a voice inside me that kept growing and it’s a step that I’m very much looking forward to,” Vettel said.

Was that voice Daniel Ricciardo’s? Because to be overshadowed, by a newbie nonetheless, in stunning manner after exhibiting an aura of gnarly dominance would definitely be a hard bullet for Sebastian to swallow. A guy jumping from Torro Rosso and eclipsing a champion who has won the world title 4 times on the trot was an occurrence that none in the fraternity would have dared to call. Another year of such “debasing” and Vettel would have considered retirement.

So what was left to do? Move to a team that is synonymous with and is an epitome of Formula 1 at a time when it wants you more than you want it. Maybe that answers the “something else” part. I’m still having a hard time coming to terms with the “something new” part especially because Sebastian Vettel at 27 years of age seems to have done most of the things that any Formula 1 driver could dream of.

And as much as it hurts me to agree, he has been one helluva driver. People might say that Red Bull gave him a great car and that he was just a puppet in the cockpit following orders and being given the right instructions to do the right things at the right time, but in all fairness his records speak for themselves.

He was the youngest driver  to drive at a Grand Prix, the youngest Grand Prix pole position winner, the youngest Grand Prix winner, the youngest Formula One world champion, the youngest driver to bag a podium position, the youngest driver to score a grand slam (pole position, win, fastest lap, and led every lap) – which sadly was at the 2011 Indian Grand Prix – and many many more ‘young’ records.

In addition, Vettel currently holds the records for most championship points earned in a season, the most podium finishes in a season, the most starts from front row in a season, the most wins in a season, the most pole positions in a season, the most laps led in a season, the most consecutive wins, the most wins from pole position in a season and numerous other achievements.

Please note that I’ve left out most of his other records because it was kind of getting depressing, distressing, discouraging and dispiriting to write a note about his superiority and find out that he actually came quite close to becoming the greatest of all time. If only Mercedes had not decided that enough was enough and it’s time to “recover” some long-lost “energy”.

Hence, what I’ve understood from this is that the “something else, something new” a guy with Sebastian Vettel’s “always-wanting-to-win-and-sulking-when-losing façade” can do, with a team that has been struggling for the past seven years in a sport that it has made itself tantamount with, is -------------------------- Kill another “Contract”! J

Li Na – the phoenix who dared to dream!

I know that this post is a week too late, but to be honest that is the exact period of time it took me to realize what a loss Li Na’s retirement has been to the tennis fraternity (especially Asia). The ‘Chinese Sensation’ as she was fondly known to her fans decided to hang her racquet due to ongoing injuries and thereby in the process ended one of the most glorious and momentous careers in the sport’s history.

Believe me when I use the word “momentous” to define Li’s career because quite frankly I could not come up with a better word to suit her undying dedication and ruthless grit when it came to playing a sport that meant so much to her. Not only did she manage to exceptionally effectuate a plan that would lead her to distinctive eminence, but she also managed to bestow tennis in an unprecedented manner that will forever be talked about.

Her contribution towards tennis has been nothing short of being immense. Her trailblazing act of popularizing the sport in an “uncharted” territory like China (and even Asia to an extent) clearly speaks volumes of the kind of personage that Li Na possesses. What I guess today is that 10 years from now a pack of tennis fanatics will remember that the 5’7” Li Na mesmerized people with her exalted crouching forehand. However, I say with extreme surety that the world and its people will always remember her as an epitome of resistance.

Coming from China and choosing a sport that has not gifted the country with a “medal” since like forever would be a tough decision to make for any sportsperson. But nevertheless Li Na chose to go down that path. Not because she was forced to (unlike many Chinese Olympians) but because she wanted to stand out and make a difference. She wanted to grab a sport, which in her own words was in “infancy” in her country, by the throat and take it upwards to notability. And that’s exactly what she did.

I still remember watching the 2011 Roland Garros final when Li Na vanquished the exploits of then defending champion Francesca Schiavone of Italy to become the first ever Asian and Chinese Grand Slam singles champion and etch her name in history. Even though the sport of tennis is not uncommon in India and we’ve had our share of legendary Grand Slam champions, I have to admit that was indeed a proud moment for me as an Asian.

What’s extraordinary about that tournament in specific is that in addition to taming Schiavone in the final and romping her way past top guns like Petra Kvitova, Victoria Azarenka and Maria Sharapova in the process, Li Na was successful in drawing the attention of 116 million Chinese in watching the sport. That’s a win for any sport any day of the week and I guess the fabulous Chris Evert put it brilliantly and said it out for everyone when she said, “That kind of exposure is crucial for our sport; and it never would have happened without Li.” And it has indeed reaped great benefits for tennis in China.

From two professional tournaments in 2008 to ten today is just one of the many accomplishments of Li Na’s endurance and continuing fortitude. Her stirring list of “firsts” that include being the first Chinese to win a WTA title, the first to reach a Grand Slam quarterfinal, the first to reach a Grand Slam final, the first to compete in the WTA Tour Finals, the first to be ranked in the top 20 and top 10 and the only till date to been ranked as high as World No. 2 has helped her country boast of having four players in the top 100 today– a feat that needed Li Na’s unflinching and indispensable perseverance.

Another achievement that Li Na can be proud to have under her cap is having the Rod Laver arena boo a defending champion in the final. The 2013 Australian Open final against the then defending champion Victoria Azarenka not only won Li millions of hearts around the world but also portrayed her as a phenomenal fighter (or ‘phighter’; now I know what Mary Kom a.k.a Priyanka Chopra meant). As mentioned before, the Chinese Sensation would hardly be remembered for her double-handed backhand. But what she will surely be remembered for is her crouching forehand. Because for a player to stay that low and smash the ball cross court with inconceivable speed clearly deserves some praise.

Undoubtedly the match that made Li Na’s unbreakable persona was the Azarenka final. After having won the first set comfortably, Li was down 0-3 in the second. Her valiant game play helped her level the second set at 4-4 even after twisting her ankle in the process and hopping her way to her chair en-route a medical timeout. However, Vika edged Li there to force a deciding third set.

The third set started with a literal “bang” as the match was interrupted due to the Australia Day fireworks celebration just at the point when Li had taken a 2-1 lead. When it resumed, she twisted her ankle for the second time and “banged” her head on the surface while tumbling over. Amidst the crowd support, Li Na distinctly appeared bleary during her second medical timeout and eventually gave in 6-3 to allow Azarenka lift her second straight Australian Open trophy among the Melbourne hostility.

That’s the kind of presence that Li Na had on the court. It’s really sad that the sport of tennis will now be deprived of the jolly and gleeful charisma that she brought to every game. But I guess like Bollywood’s unrivalled aura of making dismal sport movies, recurring injuries too had taken over Li Na’s body. Her journey by all means has not been easy. It never is for champions actually. But those who are the “bird that sticks out” will always stride towards victory with slicing brilliance and master the impossible.

“Not many people believed in my talent and my abilities, yet I found a way to persevere, to prove them (and sometimes myself!) wrong. Whether you want to be a tennis player, a doctor, a teacher or a business leader, I urge you to believe in yourself and follow your dream. If I could do it, you can too. Be the bird that sticks out. With hard work, your dreams will come true.”

Thank You Li Na! Thanks for being the change the world needed!

When Coincidence Meets Controversy!

At a time when the whole world is struggling to come to terms with the fact that Roger Federer lost to Marin Cilic in straight sets at the US Open semifinal, I don’t know what is more distressing - the advertisement of that ludicrous Akshay Kumar show Dare 2 Dance or the fact that my channel is still airing a show called ‘Motorsports & Petronas’ that shows Mercedes teammates Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton chatting around having gala time and playing like kids with remote-controlled racecars.

Agreed that the show was shot before the Belgian Grand Prix with an aim to target the lighter side of Formula 1, but it’s just downright disturbing to see two drivers faking out a friendship. Let’s not get things wrong, they were good friends in the past. But the key word to note in that previous sentence is ‘were’. The same is no longer true now and as a preacher since times immemorial of the certitude that F1 is not a team sport, I would like to take this opportunity to shout out loud and say “Ha! Told Ya So!”

The timeline, if one was to draft such a thing, of the rivalry between Hamilton and Rosberg clearly can be depicted with a downward slope graph on an x-y axis with the horizontal line representing “time” and the vertical line representing “trust”. And as an ardent Ferrari and Kimi Raikkonen fan I should be jubilant to see such a graph for a rival team. But unfortunately am not. Maybe it’s because I have developed a slight liking for Mercedes (Not because of their car; but because they finally broke Sebastian Vettel’s championship winning streak and halted Red Bull’s ridiculously boring dominance).

It all started at the Bahrain Grand Prix when a riveting duel saw Rosberg, though being on pole position, squander the summit to an over-aggressive and "out-of-line" Hamilton who piloted his Mercedes home with sheer brilliance and notch up his second win of the season.

Next up was Monaco where defending champion Rosberg brought Hamilton's 4-race winning streak to an end. Nothing wrong in that I suppose. Of course that is only if one is willing to naively overlook the Qualification botch where the German "conveniently" went off a corner in Q3 with less than 10 seconds left to force a yellow flag and disallow Hamilton's (who was faster till that point) time.

The Canadian Grand Prix saw both drivers, who despite being sternly warned by team officials, push each other to such an extent that Hamilton was forced to retire due to overheating brakes and Rosberg eventually ended up frittering the lead to Daniel Ricciardo as his Mercedes "ran out" of power.

The Hungarian Grand Prix, where Hamilton defied team orders and did not let Rosberg pass ahead, forced Mercedes to come out and announce that they’ll let both drivers loose for them to carry on with their ‘impending’ battle. Good job! Only the move came a Grand Prix too late guys.

The Belgian Grand Prix, where ‘point-proving’ Rosberg felt that sabotaging Hamilton was probably the best way to be taken seriously as a driver, forced the silver arrows to condemn the Monaco-born German driver and in an unprecedented move declare that a punishment was in order.

And finally the Italian Grand Prix, where Rosberg expediently overshot the same chicane twice (once in practice and once during the race) in order for Hamilton to snatch victory, made the team say it out loud that both drivers were in fact ‘like enemies’. Throw in an evil laugh there and we have a melodrama folks!

Okay! Am I the only one who on joining all the dots gets a rat?

Clearly this rivalry has now reached all together a whole different level, which is something that no one in the fraternity anticipated at the start. In a sport where, conventionally speaking, drivers in a team should be trusting each other blindly, the Mercedes duo are now in a position where they’ll have to double check their backs even in an 1-2 situation. I guess it was just a matter of time when deliberately driving into teammates at speeds in excess of 300 kilometers an hour for revenge would strategically be part of the package.

To top it all off, Mercedes team chief Toto Wolff recently went on record to state that it would have been next to impossible to execute the events of Monza deliberately suggesting that the claims of a conspiracy theory being in place to recompense Rosberg for Spa were completely baseless.

All right! Fair enough. But riddle me this, will you? Considering that there is no technical or mechanical reason behind it, how does one explain a driver as experienced as Rosberg overshooting a chicane not once but twice in a race that was as crucial (in terms of points) as Monza at a time when a ‘retribution’ was in order?

The answer from Wolff – “It’s bizarre!”

Well, it could indeed be a coincidence and maybe I’m just being too paranoid in imagining things. But let’s face it the sport is indeed more interesting this way (wink wink). Also, the reason why I’m not in any mood to sideline these events as “coincidence” is because it’s happened one too many times now and the timings of those events impeccably suggest a devious master plan in implementation.

Formula 1 has indeed witnessed its share of intra-team battles like Aryton Senna v Alain Prost, Fernando Alonso v Lewis Hamilton and Sebastian Vettel v Mark Webber in the past. But what makes this one so different and peevish at the same time is the ‘denial’ from all parties. Whether its Facebook posts that suggest all is well in the camp or Instagram pictures that show a friendly ‘photo-bomb’, every eventuality is marked with a tinge of suspicion and is followed by something that negates everything.

Hamilton’s emotional Facebook/Twitter picture in the aftermath of Monaco showing Rosberg and him during their go-karting days was swiftly followed by Hungary where unlike go-karting team orders and radio messages created havoc. The Mercedes tweet rendering an ‘all-is-hunki-dory’ image with a Hamilton photo-bomb preceded Canada where ironically Rosberg portrayed an ‘I won’t be intimidated’ image for himself. And of course Mercedes’ detailed explanation that everything was under ‘control’ happened just before Italy.

Needless to say the person who seems to be most affected by all the happenings is Nico Rosberg. Not only does he have the ‘rich boy’ image going against him, he also has to compete against an aura as radiant as Lewis Hamilton’s. Truly it’s the fans that make or break an F1 driver and everyone knows who everyone supports because without doubt if compared Hamilton is the more talented among the two.

And if one was to read the signs as given by Rosberg, one would have no doubts in deciphering that even Rosberg knows who the better driver is. If you don’t believe me just shoot back to May and relive the Monaco Grand Prix qualification fiasco. Ahem! Another coincidence, right!? Of course!

All in all keeping aside all the controversies and the dissensions, the thing that is keeping Mercedes so neurotically calm and composed in this whole affair is that they’re facing no major threats, as of yet, to the constructors’ championship. They can afford the “egocentric” luxury to have the drivers have a go at it as long as the team points keep coming in.

It would have been interesting to see whether such attitude would have been in place had Hungary, Belgium and Italy been the first three races of the season or if all three races would have witnessed both drivers retiring without scoring points.

However, that coincidence would have been too much to ask for a F1 enthusiast!

All right Reds, time to ‘slip’ for Super Mario!

When Brendan Rodgers helped Swansea City gain promotion to the Premier League and made them the first ever Welsh club in history to have achieved that feat, I was impressed. I was further captivated with the manner in which he helped the Swans adjust to the elite confederacy of BPL by finishing an inspiring 11th in the table. When he was made Liverpool manager in the aftermath of the Kenny Dalglish fiasco, I felt that it was the best thing to happen to the club ever since Rafael Benitez.

And why wouldn’t I feel that way? Rodgers’ impeccable possession play strategy did wonders for Swansea and his ideology of always keeping the ball moving in order to have a flowing game is something that every team needs. God knows our team needed that. And ‘that’ is what we got.

However, I’ll be honest. I hated him after his first season at Anfield.

There was no specific reason for that. It’s just that I was impatient, like millions of others, to see Liverpool get back to winning ways. We last won a trophy under ‘King’ Kenny in 2011 when we lifted the Carling Cup and it felt like, still does, ages since the touch of silverware. But then came last season.

An inspired Liverpool under Rodgers was on a feeding frenzy and was trampling teams with ridiculous ease. His counter-attacking brilliance indeed gave the Reds a new sense of direction and his insight when it came to signing the right characters for his squad was only the icing on the cake. The recruitment of Chelsea-reject Daniel Sturridge and Brazilian playmaker Philippe Coutinho along with the first team promotion of English talent Raheem Sterling and the staggering surge of ‘bad boy’ Luis Suarez was the metaphorical equivalence of grabbing something by the throat and pulling it towards glory.

And then started this season!

An opening day fixture against Southampton - whom we raided for the likes of Rickie Lambert, Adam Lallana and Dejan Lovren – gave a pellucid image of the season that was to follow. And if I was to summarize the analysis for the foreseeable future in just one word, that word would be ‘vexatious’. Ok I used the thesaurus on that one! But then again that’s how complicated things can become in the camp.

Apart from the Saints trio, the Reds have enlisted striker Lazar Markovic, midfielder Emre Can, left back Alberto Moreno, right back Javier Manquillo and lastly, but never in a million years least, the epitome of naughtiness Mario Balotelli. Super Mario was brought in the side to compensate for the loss of Suarez; however, with the recent events that conspired at the Etihad Stadium I feel that he’s not just going to be looked upon as a goal-scoring machine but also as the messiah who would lead us to enchanted glory.

 See now that’s the problem. There’s too much pressure already on Balotelli. For my team’s sake I hope his second stint in England turns out to be one in which he thrives under pressure instead of striving under it. Because unlike our new ‘leader’ Lovren, who clearly looks more confused and bamboozled on the field than Fardeen Khan in Prem Aggan, Mario can handle it well.

Also, I presume that Mario can be much better a defender than Mr. Lovren. Because if the prime responsibility of a center back is to screw up an offside trap, make abysmal clearances, be out of position for almost every incoming attack, be unaware of a thing called presence of mind and not know the meaning of the word sprint, then not just Mario but even I can be the greatest center back in history. Yes Mr. Lovren! You are that bad. I know it’s been just two matches with the second one being against the defending champions Manchester City, but I’m pretty sure they must have covered a topic called ‘Defending 101’ in ‘Defending School’.

When Balotelli returned to Italy to play for AC Milan he seemed to be fully in his element. He scored a brace on debut, almost scored a goal-a-game for the next 15 matches and everything he was touching turned into gold as he hauled Milan back into Champions League contention. He had a fantastic debut season even though he missed a penalty (his first ever) to Pepe Reina, who interestingly was on loan to Napoli from Liverpool at the time. Was it in the stars from that time itself for Mario to be ‘linked’ to Liverpool? Nah! Or was it? It does not matter.

What matters is that he is a player of top-notch quality and for the Reds to have landed him for just 16 million pounds is a freaking steal. Now is the time not to mess it up. With Andy Carroll the problem was the price. He was bought for 35 million pounds and hence the expectations from him skyrocketed. However with Mario all the factors play right into Liverpool’s alley. The price – check. The age – for a 24-year old striker Mario is quite exceptionally talented. The attitude – 4th time’s the charm. The team – Whoops! That’s the only thing that can screw the next big adventure in Liverpool’s daunted journey.

If you don’t believe me then clearly you’ve missed out on the Man City game. I know I’m supposed to be biased towards my team but let’s all be authentic and agree to the fact that the Reds played a shit game. Let’s start with the defence. Glen Johnson, Martin Skrtel, Dejan Lovren and Alberto Moreno. On paper I’d rate this defensive line-up as pretty brilliant. However, the problem begins when these players step on the field and start playing the game.

Moreno had one heck of a debut. He initially showed impeccable promise as he was making all the right runs at the right time with a head that was thinking the right things. But the fact that there were several instances when he was caught completely off position, an instance when he dived into David Silva from behind and almost gave away a penalty, the time when he failed to clear the ball in front of Jovetic that led to Ciy’s goal and those reckless tackles that showed his lack of maturity is what spells worry.

Johnson, who’s supposed to be one of the most experienced players in the squad and is supposed to be leading from the front and setting examples, had probably one of the most awful games of his career. His placing and running on the right flank was completely deplorable, he never seemed in the zone and it is unacceptable to me as a loyal fan to witness a right back not being able to complete a cross into the box almost every time he receives the ball. What’s ironical is that he ended up being injured and it happened at the time when a certain Javier Manquillo is just waiting to pounce on the right back spot.

Coming to the midfield. I’m sorry but when I see a 4-3-3 formation that has Joe Allen, Jordan Henderson and Steven Gerrard (34 years old) in between against a team like Man City, I can’t help but think about a dreary land of dull and depressing football. You maybe play those three together against a weaker team, but you don’t play them together when the opposition has money that has gifted them with pace and power. Gerrard is never getting young, Henderson is never going to turn and pass forwards whenever he receives the ball and Allen will never shoot the ball from distance or be known for his flighted passing.

In the end, the pressure always comes on the strikers because it is them who have the onus to score. And this time that man is Balotelli. The weight of expectation on Balotelli in Italy had been extraordinary, and not just in footballing terms. So therefore I have full faith in him to come out on top and fulfill anticipations of millions of fans. Especially when he does not have a midfield or a defensive line-up that will give him the balls he needs to score.

For the sake of Liverpool’s betterment, we need a bad boy. We always have to be honest. We’re just too uptight to accept the fact that our legacy is no longer something that will win us trophies. We had Luis Suarez and look where he took us. We need that raw and ruthless aggression that signifies out intent to be taken seriously and not just a team who has a glorified history. People were shocked last season when we topped the table at Christmas and almost ended out 24-year long wait. Not because of the fact that it was us who was doing the damage. But because it was Suarez who was pulling us all the way up.

With Balotelli however, things move like a pendulum. He’s either a genius who can be compared with the best in the fraternity at present or he’s a lunatic who sets fireworks in his bathroom just for fun. He’s either a ridiculously talented striker who can single-handedly knock top International teams out of the Euro and them go on and celebrate in a manner that becomes a cult or he an idiot who is considered overrated and is susceptible is bookings and bans. He’s either a boon or he’s one risky signing.

But what’s really important is that he’s not someone who we deserve; but he’s a striker that we need!

Why India needs more Kashyaps!

He lives a silent life in Hyderabad, wakes up at probably 4:30 in the morning, maybe jogs his way over to the Pullela Gopichand Badminton Academy in Gachibowli, definitely practices as hard as humanly possible, shares a joke or two with his compatriots, and returns back only to repeat everything the next day and the day after that and the day after that.

Squeeze in a couple of tournaments in between here and there, injuries that need to be dealt with, mindsets that need to tackled, and traumas that need to be vanquished. Put them all together and you’ll get a phenom called Parupalli Kashyap, who is without a shadow of a doubt a sparkling star that India has and yet at the same time does not know about.

His lifestyle is a choice he has made not because he was stuck with it, but because it’s the only thing that matters the most to him. He wants to serve his country to the best of his ability and his undying commitment towards performing well for India is purely an epitome of loyalty and allegiance.

Kashyap recently won a prestigious Gold medal at the Glasgow Commonwealth Games and in the process became the first Indian male shuttler in 32 years to win the summit prize. The outcome must indeed be sweet for Kashyap, as it is for millions of Indians, but only he knows the pain and anguish that needed to be subjugated in order for him to reach this historic landmark and sculpt his name among the greats.

India won 15 Gold medals at the 2014 Games, but the one yellow metal that meant the most was the one that a certain Hyderabadi shuttler won on the ultimate day of the event. Not taking any credit away from the other 14 winners, but the reason why Kashyap’s medal was that much valuable was because it came to a person who truly deserved to be rewarded for his deeds and years of enduring constancy.

People seldom give Kashyap the credit and the accolade that he deserves for being what he is and doing what he does. After all he plays a sport that rarely has any takers. That too in India! It’s a combination that creates chemical chaos and makes no sense, which is ironic considering that the sport has its roots in India. The Indian Badminton League (IBL) was a positive step taken in that direction with the aim to snowball viewership for the sport; however, there was no second edition for the same and only God knows whether it will return next year.

And that is why Kashyap’s zeal is so much more intriguing. To sacrifice one’s body and mind day in and day out for a purpose that has no assured means of return says a lot about a person’s character. It creates a sense of vision that people still care about things that mean nothing to the world. It creates a pathway for people to join the bandwagon of impetuous passion without caring about the consequences. It creates an aura that is so serene in its execution that one can’t help but stop doing everything else and just applaud. And that is what makes Parupalli Kashyap who he is – a lone ranger on a mission!

Kashyap has never asked for anything in return for his services to India. He plays badminton with passion and fervor because the love of the game is what matters. He has never cribbed about anything or any person because he never plays for fame and glory. Every day he walks out to the court just to prove his worth to his country because that is of utmost priority.

Whether it was the Delhi Commonwealth Games where he bagged the Bronze medal or the London Olympics where he became the 1st Indian male in history to reach the quarterfinals, India came first as it always had and always will.

India today as a country needs more sportsmen like Parupalli Kashyap. Not because of the Glasgow Gold, but because of the attitude that he possesses when it comes to playing a sport. He has clearly proven to India and the whole world as well that if a person truly believes in what he does then nothing is impossible.

It is Kashyap’s resolute willpower that has propelled him to glory by overcoming the affliction that he has suffered due to his asthama condition, which at one stage was considered career-threating. It is Kashyap’s sheer grit that impelled him to go beyond the limitations of the body to always give his best even at times when the spotlight is on other heavyweights. And it is Kashyap’s never-say-die attitude that gave him the strength to rise like a phoenix and break his ‘finals’ jinx only to better it with an eminent Gold medal.

Kashyap was and will never be in this for personal glory. I guess he was just a scrawny kid with severe asthama trying to figure out how to serve India in the best possible manner. He must have picked up a badminton racquet and started hitting the bird with such majestic brilliance that someone somewhere saw a spark of virtuosity and persuaded him to pursue it further. He started and has never looked back ever since. And for India’s perquisite, I hope he never does!

Mercedes – Formula 1’s double-edged sword

The great Michael Jordan once said, “Talent wins games, but teamwork and intelligence wins championships.” Makes sense, doesn’t it? However, what the great Jordan failed to comprehend is that there will come a time when a certain Formula 1 team would prove that his quote was incomplete and undone. Mercedes has cleverly transformed Jordan’s quote as “Exploit talent intelligently to win championships and then term it as teamwork.”

I’ve been a firm believer of the fact that F1 is not and will never ever be a team sport. Those who think differently either do not understand the sport or quite frankly don’t give a damn about what is happening on the tracks. Time and again there have been numerous instances that prove this hypothesis and recently conspired events at the Hungary Grand Prix substantiate the statistic more.

The mistake that Mercedes made at the Hungaroring was not in giving Lewis Hamilton a lousy call but in making any call at all. Although I have no reason whatsoever to challenge Mercedes’ or any team’s orders during a race, but for Christ’s sake stop pretending all the time that both drivers mean the world to the team. Even If I take into consideration that Nico Rosberg was on faster tyres, he would have eventually pitted that would have jeopardized both his and Hamilton’s chances to get on the podium.

I’ll be honest, it is indeed an improbable task to be too critical of a team who with their immaculate cars and faultless strategies have totally dominated the 2014 Formula One season; but when a time comes that people talk more about why a team did what it did instead of appreciating and admiring a driver’s phenomenal exploits of a car and the circuit, the criticism is bound to flow.

Hamilton drove one of the most gruesome and impeccable races of his career at the Hungarian Grand Prix. Anyone watching would agree in a breath of a moment that the Brit executed a quintessential balance between ruthless grit and unblemished talent in his pitlane to podium drive. Not to forget he started on a wet track that was marred with crashes almost as soon as the race began as the drivers clearly failed to alter the strategies that were put in place during the scorching practice runs.

And that is where the idiosyncrasies come into play.

With the constructors’ and drivers’ championships pretty much in the bag for the Silver Arrows, a race in which they should have been taking pride courtesy Hamilton’s bustling performance was instead tainted due to their controversial call in asking Hamilton to make way for teammate Rosberg.

Now one can never clearly understand the logic behind any team order. Some say they are given to benefit a team, while others bring in a more ticklish angle into play that says a driver is being favoured. The call that Mercedes made was actually one of the most devious and at the same time clever in its execution. It was clearly a well thought-off move and was implemented in such a manner that anyone scrutinizing the decision at a later stage would be in a quandary about the motive behind the call. I know I am! But years of experience, and witnessing some of the dirtiest F1 moves in history, has made me quite cynical whenever a driver is asked to forego his position and let a ‘rival’ pass through.

If one was to take Mercedes’ side in this whole fiasco, one would say that the team wanted to cement its championship chances by trying to get both Rosberg and Hamilton on the podium. The German-based outfit obviously thought that Rosberg had a better chance at winning the race as he was on faster tyres and were confident enough that Hamilton would be competent enough to steal the podium from either Fernando Alonso or Daniel Ricciardo.

All right! Time to burst the bubble.

Mercedes, at the time of the race, were 174 points ahead of Red Bull, their closest competitor, in the constructors’ championship. Considering that they had the best car at the starting of the season and bearing in mind that they still have the best car after the mid-season Silverstone tests, only a fool would be falling for the lame excuse that ‘the championship race is still open’.

Secondly, even if Hamilton had allowed Rosberg to pass through, there was no chance whatsoever for the German-born Monaco resident to be spraying the champagne when the smoke cleared out. Why? Because considering that circumstances that the race was being raced in, he would have eventually pitted. Just for the record, Mercedes’ “team order” came on the 51st lap with a good 19 laps still left and did I mention that it was raining?

Thirdly, ignoring the blasphemous fact Mercedes’ flawed order was given to Hamilton at a time when his teammate was not even within DRS range, had Hamilton allowed Rosberg to pass through then Hamilton would have dropped to 5th on the grid and there was a next to impossible chance that either Ricciardo or Alonso would have ‘not’ ended on the podium. Hence, at the end of the whole stratagem we would still have had just one Mercedes driver on the podium.

Mercedes’ non-executive chairman Niki Lauda had gone off the record earlier in the season and mentioned that the Silver Arrows would let their dynamic duo ‘loose’ and ‘fight it out’ once the team title hopes are secured. Well, at present, if there’s anything that is secure it is the constructors’ championship. The drivers’ race is still open and therefore one cannot blame Hamilton on any way for doing what he did.

If anything, that Mercedes strategy should have been implemented before the Hungary Grand Prix.

Meanwhile, Hamilton is undeterred by the happenings in Hungary and is standing firm on his decision not to move aside for Rosberg. “It is not questioning authority,” he said. “I am hired to race and bring in points for the team. I am also hired to be me, and race my heart out. I did not start at the front of the pack. I started from the pitlane, so in my mind I cannot afford to lose anything else.”

Well said Lewis! You started from the pits on a track what was not meant to see a wet race with a car that was built overnight due to a qualifying fire attack. To top it all off you barged your way up and at one stage were even leading the race. No one had the authority to question your audacity.

Yet in the end, people are still talking about Mercedes, people are still questioning your ‘irrationality’, people are still wondering whether Nico could have actually ended up winning the race, and I am writing about it all.

Sorry Lewis! It’s a cruel world indeed

Why Laxman deserves a Double Bagel!

Whenever I hear the name ‘Laxman’, the first thought that crosses my mind is the quaint image of a valiant warrior who devoted his life towards the betterment of his brother and served him with unflinching loyalty. It’s the image of a soldier who never in his wildest dreams could have imagined betraying someone or hurting the values for which he stands tall for. He lived in an era where allegiance was not just a word that could be written for the sake of it (Yes! They had pens and paper in the forest at that time). But now times have indeed changed and we’ve come a long way from that glorious era.

I guess it is absolutely justified to reach a conclusion that if Laxman was alive today, he would have died with shame. Not that I’m trying to draw a parallel with someone in specific. You see I’m not an avid politics enthusiast, but when a person chooses to be a part of a political party that in its manifesto says, and I quote, “we aim to build a modern, prosperous and vibrant India” I truly expect that my country politicians stand up to that reputation.

Let’s not even go to the extent about what the party has to say on the promotion of sports. Let’s focus on another area – Women! The party has this credence that women are the ‘nation builders’. It believes that women should be respected and must be treated as equals with the men of the country. Makes sense to me. But does it really matter to the party and the politicians themselves? Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt, shall we? The manifesto ends with a promise that the party commits itself to the aforementioned tasks and promises to work relentlessly towards those goals, for which they seek sixty months. So, there’s still time. Till that time comes, we’re all free to demean women in any manner possible and not give a damn when it comes to reverencing a phenomenon that can end wars – Sports.

 See that’s the biggest problem that our country faces today. We do not understand, nay we underestimate, the potential that a sport carries. A sportsman is considered to be someone who probably ended up playing the game because he/she was not good at studies. Might be true, but it’s a choice not an option. And if people, especially sportspersons, are condemned because they’re people who have taken the easy way out as studies was not a viable option for them, then politicians are no better. What should matter is the contribution that one makes towards his/her country. What should not matter is whose son/daughter/son-in-law/daughter-in-law that person is.

But what do I know? I’m just another hopeless sports fanatic who was not good at studies and took the easy way out into the sporting world. What’s missing from my life is that I’m not insulting women when I want to get back at my rivals and I’m not making riotous barbs targeting people’s nationality/citizenship.

Enough of beating around the bush. Mr. K Laxman (Oops! It’s Dr. K Laxman) calling Sania Mirza Pakistan’s daughter-in-law is downright disgusting and repellent of what we stand for as Indians. It’s very easy to make these absurd remarks Dr. Laxman, but what you don’t understand is that you’ve managed to betray your country and hurt the sentiments of a ritzy tennis player, along with millions of others, after portraying yourself as a loyal servant of the same country.

It’s not tough deciphering what has actually happened during this fiasco. It’s a classic case of getting back at a rival by using any desperate mean possible. That’s actually the sad state of affairs that this country has had to go through for the last 10 years now. What’s even sadder is the fact that it has now happened at a time when the ruling party has changed and proclaimed that ‘Ache Din’ have started. I myself have supported that party for quite some time and hence am confused whether am hurt because that party backstabbed me or because sports was taken a dig at yet again or because nationalism was for the umpteenth time exposed to the dark underbelly of ignominy.

If I get a chance to meet Dr. Laxman today, then I would not slap him. And I would definitely not put him on the receiving end of my wrath. The whole nation is already doing that. And if someone is not either angry or sad about the events that have conspired, then quite frankly that person is as naïve and silly as Dr. Laxman himself. What I would do is point out a few facts to him about Sania Mirza.

·         Sania Mirza has an extensive Wikipedia page that has 10 full extensive bullet points depicting her career achievements and laurels that she has helped her country (India) win. Dr. Laxman does not even have a notebook page about him.

·         Sania Mirza is presently the World No. 5 in the WTA doubles circuit – the highest that any Indian female tennis player has ever reached.

·         Sania Mirza is the only Indian female tennis player who has won a Grand Slam – the most prestigious tournament that the sport of tennis has to offer.

·         Sania Mirza is only Indian female tennis player to have played on Centre Court of Wimbledon – the oldest and most prestigious tennis tournament in history.

·         Sania Mirza is the only Indian tennis player to have won a WTA title – the first Indian till date to win a singles tennis title.

·         Sania Mirza was the first Indian tennis player to have been seeded at a Grand Slam - a feat that will probably never be repeated if the current state of affairs in relation to sports continues.

·         Sania Mirza is the only Indian tennis player to have been ranked inside the top 30 in the WTA singles circuit – a time when she beat the likes of Svetlana Kuznetsova, Vera Zvonareva, Marion Bartoli, Martina Hingis, Dinara Safina and Victoria Azarenka.

·         Need I go on?

But of course all these things mean nothing to a person like Dr. Laxman. Why you ask? Because of the simple fact that they are all achievements made in the field of sports. Furthermore, they are all made by a woman. And to add to that fact, they were all made by a person who is married to a Pakistani national.

Whether one is a sports fan or a political pundit, one can’t shy away from the unvarying truth that Sania Mirza after all is a treasured possession that India has produced. People can hate her guts for not playing well or despise her for giving more importance to modeling over tennis; but no one should dare blemish her individuality when it comes to being an Indian.  Not Dr. Laxman, not anyone else.

She indeed has no obligation whatsoever to prove her Indian-ness just because she married someone from a different country. She proved that she is an Indian by heart when her valorous presence set foot on the international arena and made the country proud. Now that I come to think about it, Sania Mirza has dedicated her whole life towards the betterment of the country and has served India in the most loyal manner possible. In other words, no one could have ever imagined that Sania Mirza would be a better ‘Laxman’ than Dr. K Laxman himself.

Jai Hind!

Easy Come, Easy Go – Memoir of a Liverpool fan!

It’s not a great time to be a Liverpool fan (To be precise, it never has been for a long time until last season). The English Premier League literally ‘slipped’ out of our grasps. England, which had a dense population of Liverpool blokes in its World Cup team, was knocked out in the group stages in Brazil. Alexis Sanchez became the latest ‘superstar’ to repudiate an offer that would have made him the envy of a certain London club. And to top it all off, our best player, scratch that, the Premier League’s best player left us to join some Catalan club in Spain.

What’s really interesting about that player’s move is the disconcerting fact that he’s moved to a club that should be banned from the transfer market at a time when he himself is banned from any football related activity for the next 4 months. Also, lest I forget, that certain individual whose ultimate aim in life is to play Champions League football could actually become a part of a club that might sometime soon be expelled from the Europe’s prestigious competition due to another proscribed transfer activity.

Woah! Too many expulsions and bans floating in the air. But I guess all that’s part and parcel of the game, especially when it comes to the player and team in question. To be honest, his departure is not quite excruciating as some thought that it might have been. It was bound to happen sometime or the other. Events at the starting of last season made it quite evident that he would definitely be ‘biting’ the dust elsewhere next season. And the fact that he played relentlessly upon his return just added more to that speculation.

 However, the hope was never lost. The faith in him was fortified considering the domination that was shown on the field and the dedication with which the Premier League Golden Boot award was won. But who knew that his stupendous act with the football last season was all just an audition, or to put it more delicately a ploy, to be part of something that according to him is a ‘dream come true’.

I’m not hurt (In other news, the sky is green). Let’s face it! We’ve seen plenty of departures in the past that have knocked the wind out of our sails. Michael Owen, Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres, to name a few. But we’ve really come back strong (Have we?) However, what’s really hurting us is the prudent fact that we were not prepared for such a ‘catastrophe’ (Like we ever were!).

We stuck with him during his good times and we stood by his side during his bad times. The Patrice Evra racism ignominy, the Branislav Ivanovic biting fiasco and god knows what not that the idiot has managed to get himself involved with. I recently came across an inspiring article on ESPN that painted a picturesque portrait of him and gave an interesting explanation for his outrageous behaviour. The article said he does what he does whenever he does that because it is his desperate attempt to ‘protect his family’ and a despairing attempt to not return to the horrid childhood that he’s had.

The article is totally justified in its explanation about the maniac. On the other hand what I don’t agree with is the obligatory need for him to do what he does whenever he does it because he feels that if he does not do what he does then he will indeed become someone who has no need for. I mean are you freaking crazy dude?

You’re a classy player with some ritzy talent when it comes to football. You feel that underperforming in one match with take all that away from you? You feel that by just letting a hapless AS Monaco-reject run past you to score will jeopardize your career to such an extent that you need to racially abuse the shit out of him? You feel that trailing to a team that boasts of a Serbian joker, whose biggest accomplishment in life by the way is to share his name with a hot tennis superstar, would in some way demean your character? If yes, then you’re goddam crazy.

Coming back to the ‘not being ready’ part, it’s plain and simple – Liverpool were not ready to tackle this situation. All this time they were being misled that they’re going to get some action from a brainless strumpet only to be kicked in the nuts at the very end. And, not that I’m fixating on it, we’ve been kicked in the nuts quite a few times now. Yes! We did get the compensation that we deserved from his departure and my hopes really rest on Brendan Rodgers to utilize that sum properly, but we all remember what happened when a certain Spanish warrior left.

It’s really perplexing when one realizes the fetish that Liverpool has with English players. The Spanish player’s departure opened the doors for the arrival of Andy Carroll and Stewart Downing. So Liverpool, this is a sincere request from an ardent Red fan – Please don’t spend all the money that we have now on another dude with a stupid ponytail and an overrated Villa player.

I mean we did buy Rickie Lambert and Adam Lallana, but to be fair that was before ‘he’ chose to move to a country where his wife’s family is based. Now that is the greatest and the most supreme reason to move somewhere. Obviously you cannot admit openly that the club you’re moving to is ‘better’ than the one you’re leaving. Also, you cannot acknowledge that you’re being stifled there as well. Hence, bring in the family. Indeed! That will work. Like it always has! I mean will the kidding ever stop?

The world is laughing right now at Liverpool. To be fair, we kind of deserve it as well. We never let go of an opportunity to troll others so why should we not be dealt with in the same manner? “It’s only logical.” We trolled Arsenal for years before they broke their trophy drought. We trolled Manchester United last season like crazy when David Moyes was on a ‘record-shattering’ spree. And of course Chelsea’s special one has been trolled over the years as well until the famous ‘slip-up’ last season.

We’ve enjoyed our short-lived ups and relished our prolonged downs. We’ve cherished our majestic triumphs and valued our humbling defeats. We’ve laughed at other’s misfortunes and been laughed at by others at ours. We’ve been trumped beyond recognition by our detractors in the past and have risen like a sovereign phoenix to prove them wrong. It comes and it goes and this time it’s no different!

Once a champion, always a champion!

It’s that time of the year again when I, probably for the only time, long for the sophistication that sport, especially tennis, has to offer. I’m not a fan when it comes to witnessing stringent rules and stern schedules, but when a certain ‘King’ ascends to his throne every year around the time of my birthday everything else can go take a hike. Yet another Wimbledon has come and gone. Yes! Roger Federer made the final. No! He did not win it. Yes! He’s still the greatest of all time. No! That’s not my heart talking.

There comes a time in a tennis player’s life when all that he’s thinking about is how much more his body can handle the grueling sport. At 31 years of age, Pete Sampras probably had the whole world get inside his head and force him to contemplate retirement. He did retire eventually after winning the last of his 14 Grand Slams titles at the 2002 US Open where he was seeded a shocking 17th. At 32 years of age, Roger Federer is World No. 3 in an era that is bullishly dominated by impeccable fitness and sturdy stamina.

I know what people are thinking about right now. You’re not wrong you know. I thought the same thing as well. What about Andre Agassi? The American was ranked No. 1 in the world at 33 years of age and is hence the oldest player to have achieved that feat. But what people miss out there is that the whole Agassi era was not about ‘power’. It was all about ‘technique’ and ‘craftsmanship’.

 What Agassi did brilliantly despite being at the fag end of his career was to master the art of technique. Indeed that era had young guns like Andy Roddick, Xavier Malise and Lleyton Hewitt, but they were all just getting started and the feisty epoch of fitness, speed and power was yet to start. And that is where Roger Federer comes in. The reason why Federer has achieved what he has achieved is because he has mastered the blend between artistry and power to such levels of brilliance that the whole world just cannot not stop doing what they’re doing and watch a genius execute some serene immortality.

World No. 1 Novak Djokovic is currently an epitome of discipline in the field of fitness. He has an inflexible diet regime, his stamina is next to being unconquerable and his vigour is supreme. Add some beautiful tennis to that and imagine being on Centre Court against him. There’s a count-on-one-hand list that can stand up against that sort of domination. And in that list is a 32-year old, father of 4, Swiss maestro who, even in this indomitable power era, can go out at the biggest stage of them all and derail a Swiss compatriot’s swift bandwagon, produce master class to deflate a Canadian hero and implement some unprecedented tennis to push a Djoker right till the edge of a cliff. And to top it all, it’s on grass.

People should not be judging any player on the basis of just one match. I agree that Federer’s back hand in the final was not at its destructive best. However, Federer played some heart-stopping tennis at SW19 this time around. His new attitude is what drove him further to achieve greatness even at a time when he has surpassed all set levels of perpetuity. It’s that intent to enjoy the game that drove him to being so ridiculously great at it. Losing just 4 sets in total at Wimbledon 2014 (3 of which were in the final) should be more than enough to figure out the dominating persona that the 17-time Grand Slam champion has.

Over the years Wimbledon has become synonymous with Roger Federer. To put it more delicately, Wimbledon is incomplete with the essence of Federer. And why not? Federer was an integral part of the three most epic finals that SW19 has ever witnessed.

2008, a time when Centre Court was without its ‘Royal Roof’ and Rafael Nadal was still in his shady sleeveless shirts. Federer being 2 sets down roared back in heart-thumping manner to win the next two only to lose the 5th set 9-7 in partial darkness. It was the longest final in terms of time in Wimbledon history. And who was part of it? Roger Federer.

2009, a time when Federer broke down at Rod Laver arena after losing to Nadal only to complete his career Grand Slam 4 months later in Nadal’s own backyard. Federer and Roddick battled it out in the longest final in terms of games played in Wimbledon history that ultimately witnessed Federer pip Roddick 16-14 in the 5th set. Again, who was part of it? Roger Federer.

2014, a time when Federer, who probably for the first time was the least favorite after a shocking second round exit in 2013, reached his 9th Wimbledon final after shutting out young and fast players by moving around the court like a gazelle. He saved a championship point in the 4th set, pushed it to the 5th against all odds, and smashed 29 vintage sniper aces only to lose it at the end. Indeed the world was gutted. Some even wondered whether it’s time for his majesty to throw in the towel. But then we heard those 4 magical words “See You Next Year” and everything was ok with the world once again.

Federer no doubt has gained the love, appreciation and respect of the world. His majestic inventions still make me find something soft to keep under my face so that I don’t break my jaw when it falls with astounding awe. To win against Federer is like winning against the whole world. And just thinking about the fact that Federer’s opponents still thank him for letting them win is a testament of his greatness and without a shadow of a doubt speaks a lot about the quality of exquisite tennis that the King still has left to offer.