September 8, 2002

Wizard of the Dribble

A man of many parts - rebel, pin-up boy, wizard of the dribble, leader, hero ... and, sadly, victim too. That's Dhanraj Pillai for you. Manish Kumar profiles the face, body and mind of Indian hockey

They say that Dhanraj Pillai's magic is timeless and that he can pierce through any defence on his own like a champion sprinter, carrying on even when his lungs are bursting. He's fought issues off the field with the same zeal and, in his 12-year international career, has often had to pay the price for standing up to authority for what he feels are basic principles.

For the past decade, the images of Indian hockey have been inextricably linked with this colourful, charismatic individual. His fans still remember how he cried inconsolably, squatting at the foot of the Indian goalpost after the team narrowly lost a place in the semifinals at the 2000 Sydney Olympics. Or how, after playing out of his skin against Pakistan in the 2002 Champions Trophy, he knelt down on the turf and said a silent thanks.

His fans aren't merely from his native Pune; nor even from India. They exist in Pakistan, in Germany, in every hockey-loving nation, where he personifies Indian hockey. On the subcontinent, he holds out hope for the survival of the traditional game.

But, as in all Indian sport, it's a short walk from hero to zero. If Bangkok, 1998 - when India won the Asian Games gold - remains his proudest moment, the most painful followed soon after. When the team returned to Delhi, they found no senior official from the IHF to receive them. It was late at night and their connecting flight to Mumbai was in the morning; they sat out the night at the airport, gold medals and all.

Once in Mumbai, six senior members of the team, led by Dhanraj, goalkeeper Ashish Ballal and coach Kaushik, came out strongly against the treatment they'd received. They were summarily dropped from the next tournament India played; no explanation was initially offered; later, it was officially said that they were rested.

It's been a long rest for Ballal - he never played for India again. Dhanraj eventually re-surfaced, but the scars took a long time to heal. He still refuses to admit that they were wrong in criticising the federation, and there will be few neutrals who do not feel some sympathy for them.

That wasn't, of course, his only brush with controversy. Just before the breakthrough tour to Pakistan in 1998, Dhanraj raised the banner of revolt on the team's low stipend. The entire Indian team backed him, refusing to go on tour till the demand was met. Eventually, the federation persuaded them, with the promise of a future settlement. Indian players still get only $20 a day on overseas tours, whereas the Pakistanis get $50.

Today, Dhanraj has no regrets over his posture. "The tag of a rebel came to me because I went against the federation to fight for the benefit of the players. Even IHF president K. P. S. Gill appreciated my concern for players."

But recalling those moments of struggle gets him all emotional. He remembers all those who helped him. "My brother Ramesh Pillai and ex-Olympian Joaquim Carvalho were like gods to me. Carvalho helped me get a job and Balasaheb Thackeray got me a house in Mumbai after the Asian Games victory. I can never forget their kindness."

If Pillai's career has been marked by a constant struggle against the odds, the signs were evident early on in his life. Born to a family not so well-off, he grew up the hard way in the gallis around the neighbourhood armaments factory in Pune. Growing up as one of five siblings, Dhanraj found a lot of support despite the financial insecurity.

"I had to struggle more than any other player in India. Hockey was in my family's blood but we didn't have money to buy sticks. So my brother and I used to play with broken sticks after tying them with rope," he said. His first formal training came in Kirkee, the nursery for hockey in Pune.

Through those years, and even today, he has remained very close to his mother. "It's hard to imagine now how my mother brought up all of us despite the meagre resources at her disposal. She has made all of us into good human beings," says the proud son.

True to the man, his roots stayed with him even after he shifted to Mumbai. When he started his hockey academy last year, he was most excited when close friend and former volleyball international Rajan Nair suggested that they collect used cartridges from the armaments factory and sell them to MNCs to raise funds. "The first thing I ensured in the academy was that nobody with talent was denied an opportunity. So, we picked up some of the boys from the poorest families. I didn't want players with talent to suffer the way I did."

He's had his shots at being a brand icon too, but such chances are few and far between for any Indian sportsman who doesn't wear cricket whites. He's posed for Reebok and for a brand of mineral water, but the main chance has passed him by.

Today, Pillai is at once the game's elder statesman and its symbol of hope. He's 34, but can outrun and outdribble players almost 15 years his junior. More importantly, he still has the passion, the hunger, the sheer love of the game that only the truest fanatic can. His first words after the victory against Pakistan were: "I can still play couple of more years for India."

That's good news for India, good news for the game. And bad news for his opponents.

Behind every successful man ... Andanamma on her youngest son Joe Williams, Indian Express, Pune

There was nothing special I did for him. But since 'Dhan' was the youngest, I made sure that he went for early morning practice. I made sure he had his food after practice and something before he went. I was a bit lenient when it came to his studies, since he was not good at it. Since we lived in a wada (chawl) most of the boys there shared everything when it came to the game. If anybody had an extra hockey stick, it would be shared with the others. Also, his father was the groundsman at the Ammunition Factory ground so they had a place to play in. His elder brother Ramesh was the inspiration behind him. He would guide him whenever he faltered. He calls almost every day. It’s 11:30 pm now and he hasn’t, so he must be upset (this is after the defeat to South Korea in the 2002 Champions Trophy). He wasn’t as good today as he was against Pakistan. But still, I’m happy that he scored a goal for the country.