Duniya goal hai!

 That sports has taken over the collective consciousness is apparent in the fact that names no longer mean what they used to. Time was when Rubens was associated with the 17th century Flemish artist who painted voluptuous nudes. Today, thanks to the fortnightly telecast of Formula One motor racing, Rubens is the first name of Brazilian driver Barichello who played second fiddle on the Ferrari team until they decided they wanted someone younger. Time was when we used to hum “Michael rowed the boat ashore — Hallelujah!” Today, Michael is the first name of the driver Rubens used to play second fiddle to and who is now going all out to regain the Formula One racing championship to an extent where he was accused of deliberately stopping his car at a bend on the Monaco circuit so as to make it difficult for the reigning champ Fernando Alonso to better his qualifying time and take pole position. And so Schumacher could well be nicknamed ‘Scheming Schumi’ by the Brit tabloids who could even throw in anecdotes of how other F1 drivers are scared of walking under a balcony lest Michael drop a hammer on their unprotected heads! Time was when Rooney was the surname of a Hollywood child artiste who later had a troubled existence because he never quite grew up. Today, with the World Cup on, Rooney can only refer to England’s striker Wayne whose temper is as explosive as the sudden solo spurts he makes into the opposition’s quarter, culminating in an unstoppage goal. And yet, like the child artiste Mickey, Wayne conveys the same impression of a troubled youth lost somewhere on the frontier between childhood dreams that everything is possible and the wisdom of maturity that life has its limitations. Rooney is the 21st century Peter Pan, trapped for ever in the role which fans in England and the world demand he play. The youth will play his heart out even while the media plays up any incident revealing his lack of maturity! Time was when Firpo’s was the name of a Calcutta restaurant whose breads and pastries used to tempt generations of greedy schoolboys in that phase of their lives when time stopped still and even raindrops would pause. Today, Park Street restaurants and night clubs like Moulin Rouge feature in period-piece movies like Pradeep Sarkar’s ‘Parineeta’, set in the early 1960s when there was only the Howrah Bridge across the Hooghly and Satyajit Ray had just got into his stride by following up ‘Pather Panchali’ with ‘Charulata’ and when Usha Iyer had not yet started singing at Trincas. Today, there are two bridges across the Hooghly and all we can do to remember the good old days is lean back and listen to the ‘Parineeta’ night-club singer croon, “Nayi nahi yeh baatein/Yeh baatein hai purani/Kaisi paheli hai yeh/Kaisi paheli zindagaani//Pee le issi mein nasha/Jisne piya woh gham mein bhi hasa/Pal mein hasaye aur pal mein rulaye, yeh kahani//Aankhon mein ghar sapna naya/Aansu tera ik moti hai bana/Duuri sajjan se jaise duri/Yeh shaam ho suhaani.” Time was when children would spend early mornings humming the spiritual Suprabhatham. On the morning of Wednesday, June 7, what I thought was a school-going kid humming the Suprabhatham turned out to be his commentary on the last ball of the first Test between India and the West Indies at Antugua: “Sreesanth runs in to bowl, Colleymore edges and he’s out! Out! Dravid takes a magnificent catch at first slip! And India have won!” Everything is possible in this world of make-believe. On that Jamaican evening of May 20, Yuvraj would have spotted that the fourth ball of the last over of the second one-dayer was a slower one, waited on it and lifted it over mid-on’s head for a match-winning brace! Which reminds me of the Lewis Carroll verse, “He thought he saw an elephant/upon the mantelpiece/He looked again and saw it was/a letter from his wife./At last, he said, I realise/the irony of life!” As a 12-year-old in the summer of 1998, Wayne Rooney would have imagined himself as a Beckham who, instead of being disqualified in the second-round World Cup match against Argentina, went on to score the winner and take England through. In the summer of 2002, Rooney would have imagined himself scoring a hat trick in the quarter-finals against the ultimate champs Brazil. The 20-year-old Rooney can now fulfil those dreams!