Football or Padel? The Team We Build Around Our Children

The other day, my father-in-law was sitting at our home in Mumbai when he casually asked me, “So, what sport do you want Leela to play football or padel?”

I assume he chose those two particular sports because football has been my passion, and profession, for more than 30 years, while padel has become my latest sporting obsession.

As I tend to do with almost every question asked of me, including the ones that are clearly rhetorical, I thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him an unnecessarily long answer.

My initial response was football.

I had plenty of reasons. First, I think football is one of the most complete sports a child can play. It builds strength, stamina, coordination and fitness, but also demands awareness, decision-making, resilience and the ability to keep going when things aren't going your way. Second, I think training and playing football can be equally fun which, in my experience, isn't necessarily true of every sport, although I won't name names.

Third, Leela is a US citizen and is currently in the US, where women's football is creating increasingly visible pathways through academies, universities and professional football. By the time she is old enough to make her own sporting choices, I suspect and desperately hope the opportunities for women playing football will be even greater in India as well. And fourth, and perhaps most selfishly, I remember travelling around California and even to Hawaii for massive youth football tournaments when I was growing up. My parents somehow managed to turn these weekends into social events, partying with the parents of my teammates and occasionally even with the parents of the kids we were competing against. I wouldn't mind a little bit of that for myself.

But then there was a fifth reason.

And this one caught me slightly by surprise.

The team.

I have always liked being part of teams. But I don't think I ever fully appreciated what that meant until recently. I use the word constantly at work. At Dream Sports Foundation, I talk about our team working together to improve India's youth sports ecosystem. At the beginning of meetings, I introduce my colleagues and explain their roles. Every week, we come together, share updates, debate ideas, solve problems and celebrate wins.

I genuinely love being part of a team. There is something incredibly powerful about knowing that you don't have to carry everything yourself. You can go further together. The pressure is distributed. The risk is shared. And when things go well, everyone gets to celebrate.

Then my father-in-law interrupted my little philosophical journey.

“But isn't padel also a team sport?”

Annoyingly, he had a point.

Padel is usually played as doubles.

So football and padel are both team sports. But they are very different kinds of teams.

In football, there are 11 players on the pitch, plus substitutes waiting on the bench. Everyone has a role, but nobody is expected to do everything. If one player is having a terrible game, there are ten others who can cover for them. If someone can't play, someone else can come on. The risk is distributed, and so is the reward.

Padel is different. There are two players. No bench. No substitute. No hiding. You and your partner have to coordinate, communicate and cover for each other for the entire match. When things are going well, you both share the glory. When things are going badly, there is nowhere to hide. You carry the workload together, and you reap the rewards together.

And suddenly, while we were talking about football and padel, I realised that my father-in-law had accidentally opened up a much bigger conversation.

Because over the previous 18 months, from pregnancy through Leela's first nine months in the world, I had watched something very similar play out in our own home.

Avantika and I had not been raising a baby as two people. We had been part of a team.

From village to team

There is a familiar saying that “it takes a village to raise a child.” I have always liked that expression. But sitting there thinking about our experience, I wondered whether in 2026 we should update it slightly:

It takes a TEAM to birth and raise a child.

The traditional Indian “village” was often quite literal. Many families lived in joint-family homes. There were grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and other relatives around. Someone was usually available to hold the baby, feed the baby, play with the baby, help the mother, cook something, run an errand or offer some unsolicited advice, whether you wanted it or not. You didn't necessarily need everyone to have a specialised skill. You just needed people around.

But family structures have changed. Joint families are less common, and even when multiple generations live together, everyone has their own jobs, responsibilities and commitments. And increasingly, parents also want specialised support during pregnancy, childbirth and the early months of a child's life. We don't just want people around. We want the right people in the right roles.

Which is exactly how our team came together.

Our team started forming almost as soon as we found out Avantika was pregnant. We went to Dr. Gayatri Rao, a highly sought-after gynaecologist and obstetrician at Women's Hospital in Khar, Mumbai, and promptly appointed her Head Coach. Fortunately for us, she was available.

From there, the rest of the squad gradually assembled.

And, in true football fashion, everyone had a position.

Introducing Team Leela

Avantika - Mama (Captain)

The star player. The playmaker. Literally and figuratively carrying most of the weight of the team. She has the final word on strategy and execution because, frankly, she's the one doing most of the actual work. She gives her whole self to this team, and without her there is no team.

Neel — Papa (Vice-Captain)

On the team primarily because of nepotism. Still, he is trying his best not to commit any unnecessary errors that could get him dropped. His main responsibilities are financial and logistical support, occasional strategic input, trying to keep the mood light in the locker room and organising the occasional team outing.

Meera — Nani

The most experienced player in the squad. She provides the captain with physical presence, guidance and a listening ear, while also serving as Assistant Coach to Dr. Rao whenever required. She is the kind of player whose value goes far beyond what shows up on the official team sheet.

Sunil — Nana / Pinky Pa

Provides love, care and support to the captain and co-captain, while also ensuring that the team always has adequate supplies of fruit and protein. Every successful sporting team needs to take nutrition seriously, and Pinky Pa has certainly taken on that responsibility.

Akanksha — Masi

Masi played a pivotal role during one of the most intense periods of the season and continues to provide love, encouragement and support to both the captain and vice-captain. She contributes in plenty of different ways, including through music, and has also stepped in to create opportunities for the captain and vice-captain to reconnect, recharge and remember that they were a couple before we became a parenting unit. Along with Macha, she is also the caretaker of Leela's cousins, Snoop and Jazzm, two cats who presumably have their own opinions about the whole situation.

Kishori — Ba

Ba provides love, encouragement and lots of gifts to the whole team. She hasn't played too many matches yet, but stepped onto the pitch at a critical point when the team needed her gentle and loving presence. She is now preparing for her big string of matches later this year.

Ameya — Macha

Macha has been more of a background presence for much of the season, but has stepped in during several important moments over the past 18 months. He contributes particularly through emotional and spiritual support, brings lightness to the team and also contributes musically. He was also an important part of supporting key members of the squad during a recent bonding trip to the UK. Along with Masi, he is the proud caretaker of Snoop and Jazz, Leela's feline cousins.

Rijawana — Team Management

Rijawana makes sure the clubhouse, locker room, training ground and pitch are clean, organised and functioning. It is an absolutely essential position that nobody notices until it isn't being done. When everything is running smoothly, you don't think about team management. When it isn't, you very quickly realise how important it is.

Vidya — Chef

Vidya turns up almost every day and makes sure the captain and vice-captain are properly fed. No successful sporting team can underestimate the importance of food, and she plays a particularly important role in making sure the people carrying the bulk of the workload have enough fuel to keep going.

Sayali — Caretaker

Sayali was subbed in for Meena at a critical moment in the season and now plays an essential role in taking some of the immense day-to-day load off the captain. Her contribution allows Avantika to have some much needed recovery time while ensuring that the rest of the team continues to function effectively.

Pujika — Yoga Instructor

Pujika helps keep the captain physically and mentally healthy so that she can perform her duties to the best of her ability. Given how much the captain has had to carry over the last 18 months, keeping her healthy has been an important part of keeping the entire team healthy.

And then there is the bench

Every good football team needs substitutes, and ours has had a few important players come on and off the pitch along the way.

Meena — Japa

Meena had a 2.5-month stint with the team and arrived at a critical point in the season when we needed her presence and expertise the most. She helped ensure that the most important part of the pregnancy journey got off to the right start before leaving us to join another team.

Melissa — Hypnobirthing Coach

Melissa also had a relatively short stint with the team, but played an important role in helping the captain, vice-captain and Masi prepare mindfully and confidently for some of the most intense, powerful and beautiful moments of the team's history.

Paras — Kaka

Paras hasn't played any on-field minutes yet but has still been a strong supporter from the sidelines through encouragement and gifts. He is a player with tremendous potential to bring fun and play to the team and will be making his debut later this year. We expect him to easily win the coveted "Funcle" award given out at the end of the season. 

Jeanne — Kaki

Jeanne also hasn't played any on-field minutes yet but has supported the team through encouragement, love and care. She will be making her debut later this year and there are high expectations that she will perform well through her natural loving self, fun personality and maybe even some baked goods. She is also the proud caretaker of Ginger, Avantika's cousin, who Leela will finally get to meet later this year. I suspect that reunion will be worth the wait.

MEDICAL TEAM

Dr. Gayatri Rao - Gynaecologist & Obstetrician – already talked about and really played a key role in confidently guiding the team through the entire start of the season. 

Dr. Shobha Sharma & Dr. Ajit Gajendragadkar — Paediatricians

Our paediatricians provide the medical support that comes with having a new player on the team, including vaccinations, general guidance and expert advice whenever required.

And then there are the extended squad members who don't even make it onto the official team sheet: the building aunties and uncles, the security guards who are always happy to hold Leela, and the support staff at my in-laws' home who help out whenever we are in Delhi.

There are far too many people to name. But they all matter.

Because that is the thing about a football team. You rarely notice just how many people it takes to make the team function.

Football in India. Padel in the West.

Which brings me back to my original conversation with my father-in-law.

As I tend to do, I started looking at the whole thing through an Eastern versus Western lens and wondered what Team Leela might have looked like if we had been raising her in the US or the UK.

I suspect it would have looked much more like a padel team than a football team.

I am not saying one is better than the other. They are simply different models, and each comes with its own strengths and challenges.

In India, there is often greater access to a larger support network, partly because of cultural traditions and partly because certain forms of support can be more accessible financially. That can be incredibly valuable. You have more people around, more hands available and more flexibility when someone needs help. There are simply more opportunities for someone to step in when another person is tired, busy or needs a break.

We experienced this ourselves. When Avantika and Leela moved to Delhi for 2.5 months, Nani and Pinky Pa were able to take on more of the workload. When we spent 2.5 weeks in London, Masi and Macha became more important members of the team. The home base could move, the workload could shift and different players could take on more responsibility at different moments.

But the football-team model has its own challenges.

More players means more voices. More opinions. More potential for confusion. The captain needs to be clear about strategy and confident enough to make decisions, particularly when everyone has their own view on how the team should be playing.

And sometimes, when you know there are always other people available to help, you can become dependent on the system. The team works beautifully when everyone is showing up. It can become frustrating when people aren't available, aren't pulling their weight or when the team starts to lose confidence in its own ability to function without every player being present.

The advantage, however, is that the team is resilient in a different way. If one person can't play, someone else can step in. If the home base needs to change, the team can move. If one part of the squad is under pressure, another part can take on more of the load.

The West often operates differently.

The team may essentially be two people: the parents.

The padel team.

There may be grandparents, siblings, friends and other supporters around, but they aren't necessarily available to participate in the day-to-day workload to the same extent as the captain and co-captain. So the primary teammates do most of it themselves. They cook. They clean. They work. They shop. They plan. They care. They organise. They parent.

And if one player gets sick, travels for work or simply has a terrible day, the other player can't exactly call the manager and ask for a substitute.

There is no bench.

That can be incredibly demanding.

But it can also create something.

When there are only two people on the pitch, you have to learn how to communicate. You have to trust each other. You have to make decisions. You have to adapt. You develop resilience because there isn't always another player waiting to come on. You become more self-reliant.

And perhaps, over time, you become a very good two-person team.

So which team is better?

I don't think there is an answer.

And perhaps that is the point.

The football team gives you depth. The padel team gives you autonomy. The football team gives you more people to lean on. The padel team teaches you that you can carry more than you thought you could. The football team spreads the risk. The padel team makes you confront it. The football team gives you substitutes. The padel team makes you play through the tough days.

And both can work.

For the past 18 months, Avantika and I have been fortunate enough to operate as a football team. Living in India has allowed us to build a wonderfully diverse squad around us, people who have brought expertise, love, food, humour, care, encouragement, flexibility and, occasionally, the ability to hold a baby when we desperately needed our hands back.

I am sure that if we had been in the West, we would have operated more like a two-person padel team. We would have survived. We might even have become stronger for it. But I suspect it would have been harder, and it may have come at the expense of other parts of our lives.

Which brings me back to the question that started this whole thing.

“Football or padel?”

If I'm being completely honest, I'd still love Leela to play football.

I'd love her to experience the joy of being part of a big team. I'd love her to learn what it feels like to win together, lose together, make mistakes together and celebrate together. I'd love her to travel to tournaments, make lifelong friends and, selfishly, give her parents an excuse to hang around with other parents, eat too much food and pretend we're there purely for the football.

But ultimately, that isn't really the point.

Because perhaps the biggest lesson of the last 18 months is that the goal of a team isn't to decide what the player should become.

The team's job is to give the player the support, confidence and freedom to discover it for herself.

So if Leela wants to play football, I'll be on the touchline.

If she wants to play padel, I'll find a court.

If she wants to play something I've never heard of, I'll probably pretend I've heard of it.

And if she doesn't want to play sport at all?

Well, I suppose I'll have to learn to live with that.

After all, I'm her father.

Not her coach.

And hopefully, as she grows up, our job as her team will simply be to help her become strong enough, confident enough and curious enough to eventually choose her own game.

Whatever that game turns out to be.