Those who watch Pro Kabaddi will be struck by the lack of disputes, the lack of animosity and its general good-naturedness. The fake anger, the false bravado, the entirely unjustified machismo of, say, cricket, with its asinine fist-pumping at the smallest provocation, is absent. It is unthinkable, on the evidence of four days of watching it, that you will have the Jimmy Anderson-Ravindra Jadeja brand of juvenility in kabaddi, a sport for grown men.

Kabaddi is a contact sport, but with no real violence, or at least no violence in anger. Tough, peasant types go at one another in good humour. Decisions, even incorrect ones – as television replays demonstrate – are accepted without cursing fate or pulling faces.

On Tuesday night, leading 36-33 with one final raid remaining against them, Mumbai’s stocky Vishal Mane stood before Patna raider Rakesh Kumar. Gandalf’s words in the Lord of the Rings came to mind: “You shall not pass”. Mane offered himself in sacrifice, making the score 36-34, and began pushing Kumar – I’ll call him Rakesh, there being too many Kumars in kabaddi – back towards his line. Rakesh displayed neither anger nor hostility, or indeed any other emotion but acceptance. A shrug of the shoulders and back he went. The referee whistled the end.

The commentator said that after matches the two captains, Rakesh and Mumbai’s Anup Kumar, often met to discuss the game over a drink. That startled me into spilling my own drink (this was at about 9 pm so it was fine). This sharing of drinks with opponents is quite unsportsmanlike behaviour, going by what passes for sportsmanlike behaviour these days, but it is most civilised in every other way.

Perhaps in the discussions between Rakesh (“kabaddi’s Sachin Tendulkar”, according to the commentators) and Anup, Mumbai’s match on Monday night has come up.

In what was the best encounter of the tournament so far, Mumbai drew 35-35 against Telugu Titans (I think they don’t call themselves the Hyderabad Titans because of the split in the state). This happened in the final raid, when Mumbai were three points ahead. The fact that they managed to cock up a lead like that with five seconds left shows how poorly things had been thought through. The final raider from the Titans was Sukesh Hegde, who looks like a character written into the Homeric epics. Sukesh has a jigsaw puzzle of a face, put together with bits missing and misplaced, the right side having only passing resemblance to the left.

Sukesh’s face bestows the advantage of not telegraphing where he’s looking or going. No doubt that confused the Mumbai team.

Over the mid-line he came, hoping to perform a miracle. Mumbai ran up to give it to him. One raider groped at Sukesh far too early and the others piled on like lemmings, giving him a relatively easy reach for the line. This accounted for three defenders and denied certain victory to Mumbai, which is a shame, given the performance of star attacker Shabir Bapu Sharfuddeen.

You should watch U Mumbai (who thinks up these names?) if only to see this fellow in action. The son of an auto-rickshaw driver, as the commentators do not tire of reminding us (what difference does his origins make to his quality?), Shabir is a brutally effective raider. He is cold and measured and lethal at flicking his leg over the bonus point line, collecting points relentlessly like some Schwarzenegger robot. You can sense tension ripple through the defense when he begins his raids.

In other news, it came as quite a shock that Abhishek (Small B) Bachchan did not make an appearance. Has he found work? Is he upset by Scroll's reporting? Who can tell? Happily, the quota of actors-with-no-work was filled on Tuesday by Vivek Oberoi. He was talented enough to be able to finger-whistle. Unfortunately, he seemed confused by the action, given that he went up in excitement when Patna, the team whose t-shirt he was wearing, was losing.


Vivek Oberoi at the event. (Photo: Pro Kabaddi League)


Delhi team owner Radha Kapoor (hottie) was the other interesting celebrity, assuming team owners, however plebeian in origin, are automatically celebs. She speaks Hindi like a babalog. Her team is called Dabang Delhi and my guess is the name will hit a copyright issue soon.

One gripe in conclusion. We were subject to the commentators stroking each other’s egos a little too much. “Oh, you’re so good” and “you’re going to become a legend”. Fine, but perhaps you could let the audience decide.

Rule of the Day: Three unsuccessful raids for a team and it is docked a point.