The Hindu: Dream realised but juniors refuse to sleep
By Uthra Ganesan
At 2.30 a.m. on Monday, the corridors of Fairfield Marriott in Lucknow were rent with screams of delight, out of control youngsters running around, goofing around, boys who would be men soon but for now, just partying teenagers.
It was the Indian junior hockey team, unable to sit still after winning the World Cup with a mix of domination and disdain that has always been the prerogative of the Europeans and Australians.
It had been seven hours since the team had lifted the trophy, but the excitement of being on top of the world was unabated.
And, for once, strict disciplinarians Harendra Singh and Roelant Oltmans turned an indulgent eye as the Indians backslapped the Spanish, Australian and South African players they had beaten on field in the past days and exchanged shirts and jackets.
Earlier, the team had partied at an impromptu function, surrounded by gushing socialites who would have struggled to recognise any of the youngsters before Sunday night. Through all this, however, the much-adored trophy was never let out of sight.
Everywhere captain Harjeet Singh went, the trophy went with him. When he wasn’t getting selfies clicked, he would keep staring at it with a loving look.
The only other hands that he would let touch the trophy were those of his teammates or staff members — so precious it was.
Back at their hotel, the players were all told to pack up for an early morning departure. It was a perfunctory order, taken as such by the 18 boys who couldn’t care less.
“ Aaj raat neend kahan ayegi, abhi to kai din tak sone me dar lagega ki sapna toot na jaye (there will be no sleep tonight, in fact for many nights now, afraid that this might be a dream that will break when we wake up)” each one of them said.
And yet, when Harendra asked them to come together for a few photographs, not one dared to refuse.
“The toughest thing for them in these last two years was dealing with Harendra,” he admitted, only to be shouted down by his wards.
“This trophy is for coach saab and Cody!” was the chorus that, in the deserted lobby of the hotel, echoed like a war cry.
Cody Tribe, the team’s trainer, was around too, smiling indulgently at all his dietary restrictions being thrown to the wind.
The man the players accuse of keeping them away from everything they desired to eat all this while, and are immensely thankful for doing so, was not going to deny them on the biggest day of their lives.
For a team that wasn’t allowed to taste sugar for almost three years, the day ended with a cake being wolfed down and smeared around in equal measure, in the presence of Tribe. It was only fair.