Putting fatafati into football: ISL tries to out-wow IPL

Abhijit Saha of Dum Dum is a die-hard East Bengal supporter. His friend Gaurav Parva is a Mohun Bagan fan. But they both showed up at the Salt Lake Stadium with red and white Atletico de Kolkata headbands. Kolkata’s warring football fans can now unite behind their ISL home team. “But that does not mean I will support Mohun Bagan less,” says Parva. “I will support both.” It’s more-the-merrier at the kickoff of the ISL football league between Atletico de Kolkata and Mumbai City FC. More fireworks. More lights. More drums. The word du jour is fatafati or super-duper. The billboards hammer it home. Fatafati striker Luis Garcia. Fatafati midfielder Borja Fernandez. Fatafati striker Baljit Sahni. Even Priyanka Chopra has got the memo. “What a fatafati audience,” she tells the pumped Kolkata crowd. “She looks fatafati,” chortles the young man next to me. “I can’t see properly, saala,” complains his friend. “I told you we could have seen better on TV.” “Look around you,” retorts the young man. “Have you ever seen this many girls at a football game?” [caption id=“attachment_1754345” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  Priyanka Chopra performing during The Opening Ceremony of the Hero Indian Super League. HISL[/caption] He’s right. While still largely male, ISL’s razzmatazz has brought in a far more mixed crowd than usual. There are the ISL hostesses in their cream, gold and red tangail saris. There are three generations of families including a grandfather with a hearing aid and a walking stick. There are Bollywood fans rather than football fans like Rajyasree Randhawa who leaves right after the opening ceremony (and the paneer kathi roll, chicken hotdog and kesaria firni snacks in the VIP hospitality area). And there are bona fide football fans like Rupsha Chakravarty, usually a supporter of Germany and Real Madrid. “It’s amazing to feel the crowd,” she says. “Feel” is the right word because it’s harder to “see”. The entertainment does look Lego-sized on the giant field despite the screens lining the stadium. “I should have brought my binoculars,” says Rajyasree Randhawa before she leaves with her mother-in-law. Dot-sized Bollywood stars and cricketers line up as Priyanka introduces the eight teams teasing Sourav-dada about taking off his shirt and Ranbir Kapoor about scoring with the ladies. A puppet-sized Sivamani and Bickram Ghosh bang on drums as dancers fill the stadium. A doll-sized Mamata Banerjee, identifiable only by the crisp whiteness of her sari welcomes the audience while Nita Ambani, introduced as the “First Lady of Indian sport” tries out her Bangla. The firecrackers though are supersized enough to match the enormous space. “I just wish they given more prominence to the players rather than the lady introducing the teams,” quips S. S. Dasgupta. “But Priyanka is the star,” I reply. “I thought the star was football,” he responds with a smile. Dasgupta is the managing director of Leisure Sports Management, a hallowed name in football promotion, and says he is delighted that something exciting is happening in sport. He just hopes it will not be a “flash in the pan.” He’s not worried that the money and tamasha of ISL will doom the old clubs and the I-League. “Each has its own value,” he says. “Clubs are the breeding ground of talent. Chuni Goswami, Sailen Manna, PK all came out of clubs. A league like this is great but is dismantled after two months. There’s no Champions League to look forward to like in Europe. But money will come in. And I hope it will be pumped in at the junior level.” Perhaps that’s what Mamata was hinting at when she said “ISL is starting of a new football era. It will strengthen football at the grass root level.” Didi looks pleased, introduced as our “beloved Didi” by the announcer, chatting with Amitabh Bachchan, bonding with Nita Ambani. She can be grateful for a respite from the Saradha scam and Burdwan bombs. And thanks to the ISL she is around more industrialists than she has been in awhile. Now if they would only invest in Bengal a bit more. While the entertainment is tamasha, its slickness is part of the package, the image makeover for Indian football. It wants to put the fatafati into fatafati football. Every time the fireworks go off after a goal (no cheerleaders) the audience whoops. The smoke lingers in the air like ghosts of cheerleaders past. The music thumps “Let’s football” to rev up the crowds. The stadium roars Kolkata-Kolkata, groans communally when a pass is botched and the flashes on tens of thousands of mobile phones form their own twinkling wave through the stands. “The atmosphere beats the IPL,” marvels Sushanta Banik as he takes selfies with his friends. He says its paisa vasool from both the standpoint of entertainment and football. “The foreign players have definitely raised the quality of the game. That second goal was superb.” But Bunty Randhawa, a professional golfer based in Cardiff, is less impressed. “The ball is in the air too much. So too much time is wasted. If you see the European games the ball is kissing the ground. It means they are in control more,” he points out. “The teams will take time to gel. See nine of the players for Spain also play for Barcelona. They know everything about each other even how long who takes at the toilet.” Randhawa leaves midway through the game though his teenaged son Rajeev stays back. But Randhawa says he’s happy it’s happening. “I wish it all success. Great crowd. Beautiful ground. The corporates are here. And the toilets are clean for a change.” As the crowds pour out into the Kolkata night at the end of the game, three young men in red and white t-shirts stand on the parapet at the VIP gate for an eagle-eye view of the departing stars. “Who can you see?” asks a man standing below them. “I see a Ferrari. And a Porsche I think,” says one youth. I realize they are spotting cars, not stars. I ask how they are getting home. “By bus,” he says with a grin. And then he poses, holding up three fingers, one for each goal Atletico scored that night. On the way home the three-wheeler shuttle charges six rupees extra. “Football special,” shrugs the driver. Didi was right. The impact of the ISL is already being felt at the “grass root level.”