Playing sport on the streets has disappeared…….

India does not produce spinners of the caliber of those in the 1970s anymore, nor can our modern day batsmen play spin as well as their predecessors used to. Our ranking in FIFA world tables has gone from the top 50 to the top 150! To me, there is a reason for this. Our kids never play any form of sport on the streets these days. Coaching camps, matting wickets, batting gloves and “proper” grounds have become hunting grounds for even school kids who are playing first time.Hence they are not as robust as they used to be.

Taking the example of cricket, you have a coach telling you what to do and what not to do every minute at the nets. The pitches are perfectly laid out, with a well-paid groundsman always on the attention. You cannot even cycle or walk to the coaching camp, you need a parent or a driver to get you there and return you home.

When we were kids, our first stop was neighborhood playgrounds which was hardly ever fenced, or the street just outside our home. So we played with whatever ball we laid hands on, be it a football, tennis ball, cork ball or rubber ball. The ball used to jag around due to the unevenness of the road, and with throw arm/overarm/pace/spin all being allowed in one match, the poor batsman had to deal with whatever was thrown at him. I remember playing football at the age of 10-12, with people who were at least 7-8 years elder to me. That made me physically tougher and helped fearlessness creep in. All that is history now. Too much traffic, family cars parked on the streets have put an end to the enjoyment of playing uninhibited on the roads. Playgrounds also have mostly disappeared giving way to parks with their stoned-walking tracks, green lawns and extensive landscaping.

It would be really refreshing if we can give our streets back to the kids of today, as there is no greater joy comparable to getting on the street, going around screaming for friends to come out and get an impromptu game started. It should not matter if the neighbor refuses to return the ball that landed in his compound or smashed his window panes into pieces, as it is part of the process of growing up.