Going through the list of players in the kabaddi teams, one is struck by the number of foreigners.
Bengal has two Koreans, Bangalore has an Indonesian, Delhi has an Irani and a Korean, Abhishek (small b) Bachchan’s Jaipur has a Taiwanese, Patna has a Korean, a Turkmeni and a Pakistani (wonder of wonders – playing in India? Don’t tell the Shiv Sena), Telugu Titans actually have two Pakistanis, and Mumbai have a Bangladeshi and a Japanese. Someone has an African, but at the moment I cannot remember who.
Anyway, the important thing is that none of these players is actually fielded, for whatever reason, and seem to be arm candy. Until Wednesday. This is when Kolkata played Jang Kun Lee for the entire match.
A tall and rangy attacker, Lee first went into the Bengaluru court with all seven opponents present and looked relaxed, almost winning a bonus point. He was sent a second time – again with seven on court – and won a point, taking out a defender. He came again a turn later and took another point.
Given his metronomic efficiency and the regularity with which the other raiders of his team got sacked, or trapped (eight in the first half alone), Lee should have been deployed more. Particularly because Kolkata lost the match 28 to 47 and was hammered from start to finish, none of its players shining except for Lee.
In defence the Korean, with only one other person in his team – the others all being out – felled the Bengaluru captain Manjit Chillar.
As the others made mistakes, Lee was brilliant. I’m not exaggerating. When he was the only person in the side left, he still attacked and got a bonus point. Often he looked quite nasty, sending the defenders scurrying perilously close to their danger lines with quick, spinning sidekicks. If he had connected, I speculated, the defender would need an ambulance and Lee would most likely be brought down as well, so powerful would have been the contact. But he carried on.
When others in his side committed suicide, for instance a silly and uncalled for tackle in defence, he looked exasperated – a team man.
The first half ended 13-25 against Bengaluru and I suspect Lee, used more, would have sliced that lead by three points.
In the second half, the same thing continued. The other Calcutta raiders were tried and kept failing. The first time Lee went over in the second half, he scored a bonus again. “I hope they use him more now,” said commentator Suhail Chandhok. “I think he's outshining Nitin Madane [the main offensive man]”.
But no, when Lee went out in a failed mass tackle, he was not revived at the first opportunity, though he was clearly the best man on court.
Alongside this frustration at bad captaincy or coaching, and unsure who was deciding who the next raider should be, I wondered about cultural stuff.
What do these foreigners eat? Do they communicate with the Haryanvis and Punjabis on the team? What do they say? I shall be most interested to know.
Meanwhile, the off-field action included Usha Uthup singing her only hit (Shaan se) which is sort of appropriate to kabaddi, because of its lines “Doston se pyaar kiya, dushmanon se badla liya.”
Among other celebrities forcing their way onto camera was Bengal minister Subrata Mukherjee. A rotund and short man sporting a comb-over and a t-shirt, the minister brought with him a jolliness and willingness to play the celeb game. When asked the obligatory how-do-you-feel-to-be-here question, he said: “Ekdom bodhiya log raha hai, aar everybody is enjoying”. He sportingly even did the “thigh-5”, the slap on the inside of the thigh that kabaddi players (and desi wrestlers also, I think) give themselves.
Lastly, to illustrate how sweet and simple some of the men in kabaddi are, here’s Rajesh Mandal, from Bengal but playing for Bengaluru Bulls, the winning team of the night. He was summoned after the match by the anchors, and ordered to say something.
Mandal: (Putting his fingers up as horns on his head): “Bulls.”
Anchor: “Bengal ke liye aap kuch kehna chahenge, Bengali mein?”
Mandal: (Putting his fingers up as horns on his head): “Bulls.”
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Bengal has two Koreans, Bangalore has an Indonesian, Delhi has an Irani and a Korean, Abhishek (small b) Bachchan’s Jaipur has a Taiwanese, Patna has a Korean, a Turkmeni and a Pakistani (wonder of wonders – playing in India? Don’t tell the Shiv Sena), Telugu Titans actually have two Pakistanis, and Mumbai have a Bangladeshi and a Japanese. Someone has an African, but at the moment I cannot remember who.
Anyway, the important thing is that none of these players is actually fielded, for whatever reason, and seem to be arm candy. Until Wednesday. This is when Kolkata played Jang Kun Lee for the entire match.
A tall and rangy attacker, Lee first went into the Bengaluru court with all seven opponents present and looked relaxed, almost winning a bonus point. He was sent a second time – again with seven on court – and won a point, taking out a defender. He came again a turn later and took another point.
Given his metronomic efficiency and the regularity with which the other raiders of his team got sacked, or trapped (eight in the first half alone), Lee should have been deployed more. Particularly because Kolkata lost the match 28 to 47 and was hammered from start to finish, none of its players shining except for Lee.
In defence the Korean, with only one other person in his team – the others all being out – felled the Bengaluru captain Manjit Chillar.
As the others made mistakes, Lee was brilliant. I’m not exaggerating. When he was the only person in the side left, he still attacked and got a bonus point. Often he looked quite nasty, sending the defenders scurrying perilously close to their danger lines with quick, spinning sidekicks. If he had connected, I speculated, the defender would need an ambulance and Lee would most likely be brought down as well, so powerful would have been the contact. But he carried on.
When others in his side committed suicide, for instance a silly and uncalled for tackle in defence, he looked exasperated – a team man.
The first half ended 13-25 against Bengaluru and I suspect Lee, used more, would have sliced that lead by three points.
In the second half, the same thing continued. The other Calcutta raiders were tried and kept failing. The first time Lee went over in the second half, he scored a bonus again. “I hope they use him more now,” said commentator Suhail Chandhok. “I think he's outshining Nitin Madane [the main offensive man]”.
But no, when Lee went out in a failed mass tackle, he was not revived at the first opportunity, though he was clearly the best man on court.
Alongside this frustration at bad captaincy or coaching, and unsure who was deciding who the next raider should be, I wondered about cultural stuff.
What do these foreigners eat? Do they communicate with the Haryanvis and Punjabis on the team? What do they say? I shall be most interested to know.
Meanwhile, the off-field action included Usha Uthup singing her only hit (Shaan se) which is sort of appropriate to kabaddi, because of its lines “Doston se pyaar kiya, dushmanon se badla liya.”
Among other celebrities forcing their way onto camera was Bengal minister Subrata Mukherjee. A rotund and short man sporting a comb-over and a t-shirt, the minister brought with him a jolliness and willingness to play the celeb game. When asked the obligatory how-do-you-feel-to-be-here question, he said: “Ekdom bodhiya log raha hai, aar everybody is enjoying”. He sportingly even did the “thigh-5”, the slap on the inside of the thigh that kabaddi players (and desi wrestlers also, I think) give themselves.
Lastly, to illustrate how sweet and simple some of the men in kabaddi are, here’s Rajesh Mandal, from Bengal but playing for Bengaluru Bulls, the winning team of the night. He was summoned after the match by the anchors, and ordered to say something.
Mandal: (Putting his fingers up as horns on his head): “Bulls.”
Anchor: “Bengal ke liye aap kuch kehna chahenge, Bengali mein?”
Mandal: (Putting his fingers up as horns on his head): “Bulls.”