Live India, Love Football

“Neel, why didn’t you come to practice today?” “Sorry, Greg. I couldn’t make it. Just didn’t feel like training today.” “Neel, you know the policy around missing training. You’ve been so consistent in the past. Please don’t miss any more sessions until the end of the season. You’re a key player, and the team needs you.” “Thanks, Greg. I have a lot going on these days, and I’m actually not sure I’m going to be able to continue with the team. I may have to stop playing.” There was a long pause. “Neel, it sounds like you’re going through something, so I’ll give you some time to think about what you’re saying and whether you really mean it. But I’ll leave you with one thing…” And then he said something that has stayed with me for nearly three decades. “You’ll never get this time back. This opportunity to play for a top youth club in Southern California, alongside talented teammates who are more like family. In a short time, this will all be gone, and it won’t come back. So take advantage o...

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 name...

Our now nearly nine-month-old daughter, Leela, is well into her solid-food journey. She is discovering all sorts of tastes, textures, smells and colours, and watching her experience all of this has been one of the great joys of becoming a father. But there is something else I have been watching: my wife, Avantika. She has taken on the lion's share of the responsibility for feeding Leela, or at least attempting to feed her, three times a day. And honestly, it is quite a sight. Picture the scene. Leela is sitting in her ridiculously expensive high chair, wearing her standard feeding uniform: no shirt, no shorts, just a diaper and a pink bib. She has a huge smile on her face because she knows that a game—or battle, depending on your perspective—is about to begin. Avantika puts some food on the tray and, with the enthusiasm of someone presenting the winning dish on MasterChef, clearly announces what it is. “Sweet potato!” She then waits. The idea, as recommended by several progressive ...

During my first few years working in football in India, there was a widely held belief in the industry that made a lot of sense on paper: if we sent talented Indian footballers to countries with better footballing environments, they would become better footballers. Simple, right? Take a talented teenage player, put them in Western Europe or North America, surround them with better facilities, stronger competition, better coaching and a more developed football culture, and—poof!—watch them become the next big thing. I believed it too. And a few years into my career, I had the opportunity to test that theory. There was a young player represented by my company, Libero Sports, who was considered one of the brightest prospects in Indian football. He was still a teenager, but he had already performed well for the youth national team and impressed at several international tournaments. We thought he had something special. And, like many others in the industry, we believed that if we could move...