Giving Something Back — Hidden Football

I never imagined I would begin a story about Indian football with a verse from a Whitney Houston song, but here we go:

“I believe the children are our future

Teach them well and let them lead the way

Show them all the beauty they possess inside

Give them a sense of pride to make it easier

Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be

Everybody searching for a hero

People need someone to look up to”

It’s a song about love, aspiration and doing it for yourself, putting faith in the next generation to set the tone, whilst also recognising the importance of role models and heroes to shape that future. When considering how to tell this particular life story of footballing passion, it seemed the perfect pop culture reference.

She believes the children are the future.

The vast majority of my discussions about football here so far have centred around the core question, ‘what will it take for India to become a global football power in the coming years?’. Speaking with a wide range of individuals from across the game’s spectrum, the common conclusion seems to be in line with Whitney’s vision - that it’s the next generation of Indian players and fans, with support from the right people, that will shape how impactful football will become here in the years ahead.

Away from the world of funded schemes run by governing bodies and big brands, I was curious to find out more about the passionate people working independently in their respective communities across the nation, helping football to grow and develop thanks to a pure love and passion for the game. As Whitney so rightly says, “everybody’s searching for a hero, people need someone to look up to”, and I was lucky enough to meet such a character during a recent trip to Goa.

After an early hours of the morning flight from Mumbai, arriving at Goa’s airport at 3 am, I was expecting a quiet taxi journey to our destination - a friend’s family home in the South of the state. Goa is known for its beaches, scenery and relaxed pace of life, and as we travelled through the countryside it was an instant and welcome relief from the honking and pollution that I’d become accustomed to in Mumbai.

South Goa’s Belbatim beach - miles of peaceful paradise.

Unexpectedly (I’d assumed they’d be fast asleep), we were greeted at Arrivals by my friend’s parents, Albert and Judith. Both Goan in origin, they had recently returned to settle down again in their native state after years living and working in Mumbai, sharing my newfound appreciation for the undoubtedly higher quality of life and health to be found here by comparison.

Although this trip was intended to be more about relaxation than football discovery, upon opening the boot of the car I was greeted with a bag brimming full of balls and plastic cones. Remembering my friend’s forewarning that his Dad had been ‘a bit of a player’ back in the day, and was still involved in the local football scene here in Goa, I was curious to find out more about his story.

Without having to utter a word my hopes came promptly true, Albert regaling us with stories of ‘his boys’, the local village team which he has been proudly coaching for the last couple of years. There were tales of early morning training sessions, players being signed and released, budding talents on trial for the Goan state team and the changing attitudes of Indian parents towards football - all within the space of our fatigued thirty minute car ride. Voicing my ambition to find out more, I was duly invited to attend (and potentially play in), their early morning fixture later in the week, to see for myself how the junior village team was shaping up.

Misty morning in Loutulim - one of the most stunning views of a football pitch I’ve seen.

Game day was quickly upon us, and I was awoken sharply at 7am to prepare myself. Considering Goa’s humid, sunny climate, with the temperature often 30 degrees + by the time you reach mid-morning, it was no surprise that kick off was scheduled early. The previous day in Goa had been nothing but blue skies and sunshine, so I was surprised to wake to a scene resembling a wintry English morning, rather than a tropical Indian one. Everything in sight was covered in a grey mist, clouding the beautiful view of South Goa from the family home, and there was even a cold breeze whistling through the windows (a novelty for me in India, leaving me regretting not packing a single item of warm clothing in my entire suitcase).

As we drove to the ground we passed through the local village, Loutulim, a small but picturesque settlement in the heart of the South Goan countryside. Despite the early start and sleepy surroundings, the ornate Catholic church in the heart of the village was brimming full with people attending morning mass, sounds of hymns and prayers cutting through the silence of the slowly lifting mist. Churches and crucifixes are commonplace throughout the state, a result of Goa’s Portuguese colonial roots and the spreading of Catholicism here. It’s always interesting to consider football as religious in nature, and I wondered whether the Goans had taken to Eusebio, Figo and Ronaldo as passionately as they had to the Mother Mary.

Climbing the hilly dirt track to the ground, which sat at the highest point of the village (symbolically right next to another gleaming white Catholic chapel), the pitches were barely visible, the morning mist still hanging over the grass like a swirling tablecloth. Stick figures jogging in the distance revealed a warm up taking place, with the silhouettes of the players and goal frames just enough to convince me we’d arrived at the right place. Albert’s bright yellow Ronaldinho Brazil shirt stood out in the clearing mist, and I was beckoned over to join proceedings, still not fully aware of what I was letting myself in for.

After lacing my boots and making some hurried introductions, I found myself joining the team talk, getting the nod at right back amongst a team of excited but slightly bemused local schoolboys, no doubt wondering how this lanky Englishman in a FC Goa jersey had found his way onto their team sheet. This was a practice match between the under 13 and under 14 teams, the former Albert’s current crop of players, the latter (who I joined), having had that privilege last season.

Despite the barely visible warm up, within a matter of minutes the mist had cleared and we found ourselves kicking off in a more familiar setting of sunshine and blue skies. I optimistically reassured myself that the 8am heat would surely be nothing on the mid afternoon temperatures I’d experienced yesterday, but was swiftly proven wrong, two early bursts of energy leaving me sweaty and exhausted just moments into the match. It struck me as an odd coincidence that this was by far both the earliest and hottest game of 11 a side football I’d ever taken part in, and I wondered how the local boys would fare in the more familiar heat.

The pitch was blessed with a higher ratio of grass to mud than most I’d seen so far, but still had its textural difficulties - balls bouncing and skidding at regular intervals to give the game the authentic Indian feel. Despite this, both teams played with style and skill, quick passing and good quality football alerting me to the fact this was by no means going to be an easy ride, despite being twice the age of most of the other players. Minutes later I was nutmegged (or ‘chirried’ in Hindi) by Sudhamshu, the opposition’s pacey winger (warranting jeers from the pitch and the sidelines), and my fears were confirmed, vowing to at least not make a fool of myself as the match continued.

Albert told me Indian youth leagues sometimes have issues with older players competing with the wrong age group… see if you can spot the guilty party.

Albert refereed and coached simultaneously, watching vigilantly on as both teams mixed slick passing football with the occasional hoof and scrappy exchange, using words sparingly and letting the players learn for themselves as the game progressed. The standard of football was higher than I’d expected considering their age and the pitch, with both teams well drilled and tactically aware. Any advice was well received and acted upon, the players clearly holding their coach (or ‘Sir’) in high regard.

As full time neared (and my body threatened to give up entirely), I was happy to hear the whistle and watch on as the boys contested a penalty shoot-out, finishing in dramatic fashion. After devouring an after-game samosa (a definite upgrade from the slices of orange I was used to) and a much needed bottle of water, we returned to the house for a post-match analysis, and to delve deeper into the story behind Albert’s passion for the game.

Over breakfast (local Goan pastries and the tasty leftovers from last night’s home-cooked dinner), we discussed the respective talents and prospects of the teams, Albert sharing his coaching techniques and ambitions for their development.

Action shot - Albert overseeing the climax of the penalty shoot out.

‘The key with these boys is the foundations, the basics’, he began, discussing how regardless of skill and shot power, it’s the fundamental understanding of the game that is crucial to the development of proper players and teams. ‘You can tell a smart player within seconds. The way they move, their body language, their awareness of what’s around them. This is hard to teach an older player, so it’s about giving them the chance to develop this understanding at a young age’.

Naming particular players from his teams and sharing his two cents on their performances and prospects, (sounding more like a proud father discussing his numerous children than a football coach describing his team), it was clear that Albert had a heartfelt passion for the fates and futures of the boys.

‘A couple of the boys have been shortlisted for the state team’, Albert proudly shared, ‘which is a huge achievement for our team, and for the village as a whole’. In a state with hundreds of towns and villages, and countless football academies and development squads, for two players from the same small community to be amongst the squad of twenty players was an impressive feat.

‘They could both go onto be class players’, continued Albert, ‘as could so many of the boys. But it depends on so many other factors. Will they be able to prioritise football over their studies? Will they get the right diet and training? Will they get distracted in their teenage years?’

Melroy (#10) one of the team’s star wingers, has recently been selected to play for Goa.

It was clear to see that his interest in the potential of these boys went far beyond goals and games. Football was the perfect way, and Albert’s way, of creating a positive and aspirational culture in which they could thrive and develop going forward, as players and as men. I was curious to find out what was fuelling his ambition, and soon enough we moved onto stories of Albert’s own footballing pedigree, and how the game had shaped so much of his life.

‘I played for this same village team when I was a boy’, Albert began, ‘so I feel privileged to be back here now providing the opportunity for these boys to do the same’. He shared stories of childhood in Loutulim, every one of them with football at its heart, and it became clear how important a role the game had played in Albert’s younger years.

‘After finishing school, and after years playing for the village, it was a big change for me to move to college. There were thousands of boys there, and it was unheard of for a first year student to get anywhere near the team’. Albert described the practice of older students deliberately keeping youngsters away from the first eleven, but was proud to have bucked the trend. ‘I worked hard and slotted straight into the team, and it was a big deal at the time. I went onto play in that team for four years, and have lots of fond memories’.

Competing in the National College tournament during these years, as Vice Captain of the team, they were crowned champions. This was a huge achievement when you consider the size of India, and Albert proudly described the homecoming victory celebrations.

‘Even though I was the vice captain, our captain was scouted to play for a senior team whilst we were at the tournament, and stayed back in Mumbai after the match was over.’

‘So when we arrived back in Margao’ (the nearby city and home of the college), ‘they closed the roads and we had an open top bus tour around the city with the trophy’, Albert reminisced proudly. ‘I ended up on a stage with a microphone in my hand, doing a speech with the mayor in front of a huge crowd. And it all really started from there’.

‘I remember when I was your age…’ - Albert shares his experience with the next generation of Loutulim’s aspiring footballers.

Shortly after graduating Albert was on a trip to Mumbai himself, and was spotted on the sidelines whilst watching a local football association tournament. ‘Someone who’d seen me play before came over and spoke to me after the semi final match, asking if I’d join their squad for the final’, Albert described. ‘The rest of the team weren’t happy, and they left me on the bench, sticking with the team they’d been playing.’

‘Eventually I got a chance, with about twenty minutes to spare. There was a loose ball bouncing, I took a strike and it hit the net, I couldn’t believe it’. Ten minutes later, the same thing happened again, Albert scoring two late goals to win the tournament for his new team. ‘Suddenly all the players were jumping on me and people were cheering, it all happened very quickly’.

Indeed it continued to, with Albert soon making his Mumbai move permanent. ‘Lots of different corporate teams approached me, offering me a career in exchange for joining their teams’, he described. ‘The Income Tax team came first, but I didn’t like their style of play and soon moved on, and the Railways team were after me too’.

‘Eventually the Customs Department approached me, put a uniform on me with stripes and badges, and before I knew it I was learning the trade of an officer whilst playing as much football as I could in my spare time’. The practice of corporate businesses recruiting quality sports players for their teams is not an uncommon one, but I found it fascinating that this was happening twenty five years ago in Indian football. It was a great example of football’s role as a social mobiliser, with Albert’s career and life being shaped by the opportunity football provided him.

The modern day Mumbai Customs team - still competing in the top Mumbai District Football Association League (photo credit: The Football Counter)

‘Playing for the Customs team in the Mumbai league gave me more exposure, and our team was the talk of the town’, Albert continued, describing how a successful few seasons led to him representing Maharashtra state in national tournaments and continuing to build his football reputation. Meanwhile, by day, Albert was stationed either at the airport or in downtown Mumbai, working as a key part of the teams spotting and stopping trafficking activity happening in and out of the city.

‘When you get a government job in India, often you do it for a long time, and in my case that’s what happened’, Albert began, reflecting on his lengthy career in the Customs Department. ‘But I always enjoyed the work, despite the stresses and pressure’. He described in detail the criminal ‘flow’ of certain substances around the world, with products created in South America, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and neighbouring nations making their way through Asia towards the United States, ‘where all the money was’. Mumbai’s West-Indian location, with its large air and nautical ports, often made it a hub for such transactions, and Albert’s role was to investigate and cut out the trafficking and smuggling.

‘It was very intense work, and the stakes were always high’, he explained, telling numerous stories of high importance cases and seizures of giant shipments. ‘It was a mixture of research and interrogation, but after a while you begin to develop a sixth sense for the signs and clues’. Albert went on to become one of the most experienced officers in India in his high-stakes line of work, and indeed despite his retirement, is still called back to give presentations and training to the current Customs teams.

‘It’s great to go back and share my experience’, Albert said. ‘I gave a presentation to them a few months ago entitled ‘From Sao Paulo to Delhi’, explaining what I knew about the trafficking routes, the culture of the criminals and smugglers, and sharing stories to help them identify and solve more cases’. This sounded like a potential memoir (or the title of a Narco’s episode), and I encouraged Albert to write down some of these stories for future reference, subtly pitching myself as a prospective ghost writer.

Different kind of training… Albert delivers his keynote speech at a recent trafficking education event.

This passion for sharing his experience with the next generation reminded me uncannily of his love for coaching football, and indeed his retirement has given him the opportunity to turn his attention to both pursuits. ‘As my playing days wound down, I began coaching a youth team in Mumbai and instantly fell in love with it’, he reminisced. ‘It gives me a chance to still be involved in the game, and to give others the same chances I had’. Describing how one of his under 15 players went onto represent India at junior level, Albert again beamed with pride at the impact his mentoring could have.

‘To see a young player with such class, and then to play a part in them taking their next steps, gives me such satisfaction’, he continued. Based on his track record and his clear passion for youth development, I wondered whether he’d considered launching a coaching school or football facility.

‘Lots of people keep telling me to open an academy, and to start charging for my coaching time’, Albert explained, his cynical tone suggesting this wasn’t the route he would be following. ‘But I don’t want the money, and I don’t think that approach would really develop the best talent’, citing the examples of many young promising players who would simply not be able to afford or access such services. ‘I don't want the money’, he reiterated. ‘I just want to give back to the community what it gave me, and to see football change more people’s lives for the better’.

Albert rallies the troops before the penalty shoot out.

It was inspiring to hear that Albert’s motives were purely based on the fate of these young boys and his love of the game. These principles are sadly not as common as they should be in the world of youth football today, as so often corporate, political or financial factors dilute the efforts of coaches and players. Albert voiced these frustrations with the Indian system in particular, contemplating the risks of accepting any ‘official support’ for his work.

‘The minute someone endorses or sponsors you, however great your cause, it’s risky in India’, he explained. ‘People are quick to pick sides, shift support and make things political, and when it comes to football, these things will only distract from the impact the game can have’. He also cited the suspect world of high level sport, in India and globally, suggesting that corruption and commercialisation were tainting the nature of some professional competitions.

‘If you want to see true competitive spirit, and real sport, don't watch Chelsea or Barcelona. Lower league, youth level and amateur sport is where you'll really find it - away from the money and the distractions.’ Albert praised the purity of a grassroots community ‘doing it for themselves’, and he talked a little more about his pride in acting as a role model for these young players to make something of themselves.

‘Public perception is so important in any community, but with these boys it’s essential I’m setting the right examples’, Albert said. ‘For the sake of the boys, and their parents, it’s important that I’m a trusted figure’. He spoke about the importance of lifestyle, with his history and legacy as a player in the village bringing with it a responsibility to uphold high standards. ‘I would never be seen to drink beer in public, and will always be conscious of my behaviour in and around the community and players’, he stated. ‘If I let that slip, how would they ever respect me or listen to me when I’m trying to offer advice?’

Watching on vigilantly as Loutulim face off against Don Bosco in a league fixture.

Setting good examples on the field was equally important for Albert, explaining how he often played centre-back in practice matches with the boys. ‘The fact that I’m not just saying it, but I’m there with them on the pitch, doing it, makes such a difference when trying to get my messages across’, he said. This struck me as a clever coaching technique, but also a permanent excuse for Albert to lace his boots up and continue stretching out his playing days - surely a win win move for all concerned.

The next day we went to watch Albert’s boys playing a competitive fixture, away at the beautiful Don Bosco playing fields. The pitch (covered entirely in grass, a valuable rarity) provided the perfect setting for their quality, passing football to come to life, and the team were by far the better side as the game progressed. They left it late, nicking a winner in the closing minutes to seal a 2-1 victory, and it was great to see the hard work and passion translating into results.

As we drove back to the village (the entire squad crammed into the boots and backseats of three Suzuki hatchbacks), Albert reflected again on the life football had given him, and his pride in being able to ‘give something back’.

‘It’s great to see the boys so happy’, he began, watching his team choosing and devouring their chocolates and drinks from the local convenience store (a victory tradition for the Loutulim boys). In truth, his smile was the widest of them all as the celebrations took place. In a world so often concerned with pay cheques and commercialisation, this was clearly all the ‘payment’ he needed.

The boys queue for their celebratory drinks and snacks at the local store.

‘When it comes to football, I’m proud to be able to turn amateurs into players, and boys into men’, he stated. ‘And when it comes to the customs work, I’m proud to still be able to help develop young officers and future leaders, and to share my experience in useful ways’. Albert’s fascination with legacy and lasting impact was clear to see, and despite his retirement, he’s a long way from slowing down.

‘I’m even busier now I’ve retired’, he joked, listing his ambitions for the youth village teams in the years to come, not to mention ambitions for his own businesses and other pursuits. Albert and his wife Judith own and manage an idyllic wedding venue ‘Crystal Rocks’ just outside the village, amongst other side projects and passions.

‘If I’m remembered for nothing else’, he mused, ‘I’d like to be known as a lifelong football player and lover, whose passion for the game made things happen in his hometown. Long after I’m gone, I hope that’s what they say about me’.

As the reminiscing and blue sky thinking came to a conclusion, Albert turned his attention back to the task at hand - leaving our table to go and collect the equipment and hang up the boys’ bibs, ensuring they’d be dried and ready in time for the next day’s training session. His story was an inspiring one, showing that regardless of sponsored schemes and funded initiatives, it’s the passion and hard work of the Alberts of the world which really provides impact and inspiration at a grassroots level. It made me think again of the Whitney Houston lyrics, convinced that Albert would share her perspective, as he continues to teach them well and let them lead the way.