In 2012, before he became the number one goalkeeper in India, Parattu Raveendran Sreejesh gave glimpses of the carefree, positive nature that would one day help him become the glue holding the Indian men’s hockey team together.

India had reached the finals of the London Olympics qualifiers against France. However, the heartbreak four years ago — when the country failed to qualify for the Olympics for the first time since 1928 — was still raw. A loss against France would reopen those wounds. After winning the penultimate game against Poland at Major Dhyan Chand National Stadium in Delhi, coach Michael Nobbs was accompanied by Sreejesh and fellow goalkeeper and captain Bharat Chetri, to the press meet.

Sreejesh remained quiet until he was asked how the two goalkeepers help and compete against each other. The youngster made a face, looked around and kept it light, “ Pehle match me bhai ek goal khaya, main bhi ek khaya; doosre me bhai do khaya, main bhi do khaya. Ab aur goal khaya, to coach ka laat khayega (A clever wordplay meaning: In the first game both of us let in a goal each, and two goals in the next game. If we give away any more, we will have to bear the coach’s brunt.)”

The ensuing laughter dispelled the doubts and negativity in the room. Since then, the 28-year- old has been a fixture in the Indian dressing room. His humour, optimism and self-belief have rubbed off on his young team. This easygoing confidence and positivity have also helped the team shake off the burden of a glorious but jaded past, and walk into an uncertain but interesting future.

Sreejesh’s rise parallels the gradual, and at times painful, change in Indian hockey. He came to Delhi when the team was on a downward slide; he started playing 13 years ago when the game was marred by personal and administrative wrangling on and off the field. Differences between coach Rajinder Singh and senior players such as Dhanraj Pillay were growing. First the coach and then a few senior players were dropped unceremoniously from the team, and all the action off the field culminated in India failing to make it to the Olympics. After the high of the 1975 World Cup triumph, and the last of the eight Olympic medals in 1980, a lackadaisical officialdom ensured Indian hockey’s free fall into greater depths, which finally hit rock bottom in 2008 when the team missed the Olympics. The Indian federation was suspended, disbanded and finally replaced by an ad-hoc committee and, later, Hockey India.

The man who propelled Sreejesh from the open grounds of Kerala to the hockey field was current junior India coach Harendra Singh. He identified Sreejesh as a special talent at an event in Thiruvananthapuram and convinced his then coach to send him for hockey trials to Delhi. “He came with just one bag and a change of clothes. I told Saju (Joseph), “He has no equipment or kit.” But he nevertheless appeared for the trials. One of the people present there threw a paper at my face, and asked who it was I had brought for the trials, a boy who doesn’t even know he needs to wear protective pads! But Sreejesh cleared the trials,” Harendra reminisces.

The wiry, introverted kid who came to Delhi not knowing a word of Hindi or English, is now the captain, one of the fittest players in the circuit and the team’s chief prankster. The boy who was once dismissed by certain ‘experts’ as good-for-nothing has been nominated for the International Hockey Federation’s Goalkeeper of the Year award this year. Harendra, once derided for dragging a nobody from the hinterland, now stands vindicated for his faith in Sreejesh.

Sreejesh hit the big league in late 2011, at the inaugural Asian Champions Trophy (ACT), where he saved two penalties against Pakistan in the final. The tournament was the beginning of a transition — most of the senior players were rested and a young side was fielded; and the team finally managed to break out of the shadows of mainstays Chetri, Baljit Singh and Adrian D’Souza. Sreejesh’s performance was still not enough to make him the first-choice goalkeeper, but it brought him into contention. A handful from that team, such as drag-flicker Rupinder Pal Singh and his close friend Birendra Lakra, are now the pillars of the Indian side.

Sreejesh’s biggest strength, says D’Souza, is his optimism. That, and his acute anticipation on field. “He would never be depressed or give up, he always believed his time would come if he kept working hard and learning. He is still the same, he hasn’t stopped learning. Height is generally considered to hinder reflexes. But Sreejesh worked hard on his anticipation and flexibility and turned his height into one of his strengths,” he adds. The Mumbaikar gave Sreejesh a vital tip — the five-second rule. “The only time he got upset was when he let in a goal. I told him not to think about a setback for more than five seconds. That is one of the biggest reasons for his success today, especially in the shootouts. Sreejesh doesn’t think about his last save or goal, he keeps his mind clean on the field.”

This ability to wipe clean and start afresh has worked well for the team in recent years. For the longest time, Indian hockey was wrestling with the past, it was trying to drive forward but with its sights firmly on the rear-view mirror. That was the easy way to be — living in the glories of the past, than working hard to make the future. Eight Olympic golds, the tag of the most successful hockey team ever and hailed as stick magicians — the past was golden enough to make one forget that the last of those medals came 36 years back. It took a bunch of foreign coaches who couldn’t care less about India’s past Olympic medals to finally turn things around. Spaniard Jose Brasa and Australian Terry Walsh, and now the Dutch Roelant Oltmans — these coaches have trained a generation of players to firmly set their sights on the future. They have taught a young team that past results, good or bad, should not matter for more than a day.

The promise of a fresh day has helped the team move on from the humiliating 12th-position finish at the London Olympics to winning the Asian Games in 2014. It has helped Sreejesh tide over the disappointment of being dropped from the team in 2010 to becoming its nucleus a year later. It has helped Rupinder, dropped for the Hockey World League semifinals last year, bounce back with a bang to become the best player by a mile at the fourth Hockey India League. And it clearly has spurred the team to clinch the ACT recently in Malaysia, after a disappointing outing at Rio.

In all this, Sreejesh has been key, instrumental to the team’s reinvention. Says Oltmans, “He is always having fun, but there is a keen student under all that.” It helps that he leads by example in both good times and bad. When he helped India win a bronze at the Hockey World League Finals last year against Holland, it was with a taped shoulder, a clotted thumb and an injured thigh. At the ACT, he saved a crucial penalty in the semifinals against Korea despite a broken ankle and torn hamstring.

Sreejesh hasn’t just taught his team to give a 100 per cent on the field. He has also brought in considerable lightness to the dressing room. Along with Manpreet Singh, Rupinder and VR Raghunath, this team has now become a squad of pranksters. Harendra says the humour helps wash away traces of depression or negativity among the players. “You can’t keep Sreejesh quiet, and when he speaks, it is always positive talk. It helps the youngsters move on from a bad performance,” he says.

Tushar Khandker, former international player and Sreejesh’s teammate, and now a coach with the national team, vouches for his dedication. “He always has a plan even while training. He knows what he wants to work on every day and is willing to work for hours to perfect that plan. Coaches cannot walk away from him till he is satisfied. Sreejesh keeps talking to himself all the time, both during practice and a game,” he says.

Sreejesh is the pivot not just to his team, but also the hockey fraternity. The women’s team goalkeepers Savita and Rajani Etimarpu, and junior players Akash Chikte and Vikas Dahiya, claim to have learnt from him. The senior pro makes it a point to share his experiences with the upcoming players. It is something he picked up from D’Souza, who was always generous with tips despite being way senior to Sreejesh. When he was named the captain for Rio Olympics, the first wall he sought to break was the hierarchy in the team. “There is no senior-junior for me in the side. It is important that the newest player in the team can disagree with me and explain his ideas — that earns more respect than forcing them to do something. Anyone can put their arm around my shoulder and crack a dirty joke. Anything goes as long as it’s all business on field,” he said.

There was a time when Indian hockey players were embarrassed to admit that they played for the country. Not long ago, one could see three players sharing an auto-rickshaw ride on their way back to a dingy team hotel after training. Unfortunately, that image of neglect still lingers and Sreejesh and company are working to change that. They represent the new Indian hockey. They enjoy the good things in life unabashedly. They reach out to fans on Facebook and Twitter. They remain intensely aware of their performances. And they are trying to lead the national sport out of a self-imposed quagmire.

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