So?
The discomfort was palpable. The renowned news anchor was least prepared for the single-word response, more a question than a response. He shifted uneasily in his seat.
“Do you know how much it has added to the GDP?”
The tables had turned. The hunted was now the hunter.
“Do you know how many people travelled from India to watch the game? And how many travelled business class? And how many on private planes?”
“Do you know how much was paid by the broadcasting corporations for the rights? And how much large corporations spend on advertising and buying spots from the broadcasting corporations?”
With each question the news anchor was getting increasingly uncomfortable. He was not prepared for this onslaught.
“Do you know how much was the spike in liquor and food sales at pubs and restaurants during this period?”
“Do you know how much cricket gear is purchased by fans during such a game that is thrown away after a single use?”
“Do you know how much money changes hands in online games of skill that are totally dependent on chance?”
“Do you know how our patriotic citizens can be induced to buy anything they don’t need through carefully constructed emotional stories during such times?”
The news anchor’s eyes were darting around the studio looking for a place to hide. His desperation was visible on his face.
“Then go. Go and get me the answers to these questions before you dare to ask logical questions.” The representative from the sports ministry stated imperiously in the manner of Amitabh Bachchan asking Shashi Kapoor to first get the signatures of the thugs who had ruined their family before asking him to sign admitting his misdeeds, before carefully throwing his shawl over his left shoulder carelessly.
The live show was over.
The anchor sat slumped in his chair, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was trying to figure out what was wrong with the question he had asked, “Do you know that India lost tamely in the final of the cricket World Test Championship to Australia that was recently played at the Surrey Oval in the UK. What action do the sports ministry mandarins plan to take to address the situation?”
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the sports ministry mandarin who he had been interviewing live standing next to him, no longer with an aggressive look.
“You should think before you jump to conclusions,” the mandarin said softly. “It is a well-thought-out plan.”
Not being on the air, the anchor was able to gather himself. He asked, “Plan? What do you mean?”
“Did you read the paper yesterday?
The anchor shook his head.
The mandarin smiled as if thinking about news anchors not reading the newspaper, but said, “Well, nothing earthshaking. The sports ministry has decided to mainstream sports at the grassroots level.”
The slightly arched eyebrow of the anchor revealed his puzzlement.
“Exactly. You got that right.”
The anchor was even more puzzled. He did not realize he had got something, not to mention right.
“Firstly, that is the answer to your question during the show. What does the sports ministry intend to do?”
“But, what does that mean?”
“Exactly. It does not mean anything. But wait. That is not all that does not mean anything. I am trying to use the words ‘infrastructure,’ ‘state-of-the-art,’ ‘youth,’ and ‘potential’ in one sentence. Hmmm…investments in state-of-the-art infrastructure are required to realize the full potential of the youth of the nation. How is that?”
The anchor was unable to say anything.
“Wait, here is another. ‘With its transformative power, sport can shape the character, productivity and health of individuals and communities.”
“But, did the sports ministry not make this announcement already?”
The stern look was back on the mandarin’s face. “Which law do you believe prevents us from making an announcement that has been already made? Made not once, but at least 50 times in the past 50 years. We must do it each time a pivotal moment in the nation’s sporting history arrives, like this loss in the Test final. Otherwise, why should you pay taxes to support the sports ministry?”
The anchor had to nod in agreement at this sagacious conclusion.
“With the enthusiastic participation of people, our efforts have borne fruit.”
“How do you mean?”
“Think back to the time you and I were in school.” The mandarin and the anchor had attended the same school in a small town, and were in the same class. Their love for sport had drawn them to sport-specific assignments in their respective lines of work. “How many of the kids played hockey at that time?”
“Almost everyone.”
“Why was that?”
“Probably because we enjoyed it. Probably our school had the open grounds, like many other schools. Probably our parents let us.”
“And how many kids do you think play hockey in school these days?”
“Probably none.”
“And why is that the case?”
“Not sure. Maybe children don’t like hockey. Maybe they have better things to do. Maybe parents run their lives. Maybe schools don’t have grounds.
“Or maybe all of the above,” the mandarin interrupted. “How many of us were buying T-shirts in school with the name of a famous player or a stick which was endorsed by a famous player?”
“None.”
“Exactly,” gushed the mandarin, as if saying “QED.” “Aren’t you ashamed?”
The mandarin was on a roll. “I must also thank parents for their support, especially in the big cities. They have successfully petitioned for schools to construct IIT coaching centres on open grounds. When a patch of land that some societies are able to earmark for sports for the young gets damaged, they lobby to make other plots in the society available to their wards instead of asking them to bend their backs and repair the damaged patch. What do you think our parents would have done?”
“Nothing,” said the anchor, without hesitating. He was beginning to get it.
“Exactly. Today’s parents lead by example. The example of laptops and mobiles. The example of life on a workstation. The example of taking out the car to cross the road. The example of eating and drinking out. And so much more. Coming back to the point, mainstreaming sports at the grassroots level is not an option but a necessity for India’s journey towards the $5 trillion mark.”
“Of what?”
“Why, GDP of course. Duh! You have to play sport for the right reasons. Do you still think that the love of sport and an inner drive to lead an active and healthy life are the right reasons?”
“Not at all,” the anchor said almost instantly.
“But we still have work to do in the boonies. The hockey players from the Odisha tribal belt, the wrestlers from Haryana villages and the boxers from Manipur are challenging the system. But we have plans. They will be developed and urbanised soon.”
The anchor was already feeling better. It was evening and the French Open tennis final had started. The duo decided to head out to the nearest bar which was showing the match on a big screen. As only responsible citizens can, they bought T-shirts, one with Djokovic printed on it and the other with Ruud, entered the bar and ordered beer and some fried snacks. They were there for the right reasons.
Photo by charlesdeluvio on Unsplash 
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