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Football and Friendship

Two Friends united by their love for Argentina, Manchester United and East Bengal

This is a story of friendship and football. Or football and friendship. Or perhaps it's not a story at all. On the occasion of two months of Argentina's historic triumph at the 2022 FIFA World Cup, I ask you to accompany me for a trip down the memory lane, to an entirely different era. 

The year is 1998. Argentina are preparing to run riot at the World Cup in France. We have Roberto 'El Raton' Ayala in defense. Ariel Ortega is the new Diego Maradona. Juan Sebastian Veron is pulling the strings in midfield. What could go wrong? Well, everything, it turns out. 

The dream crashes against the Dutch in the quarterfinals. Ortega receives his marching order after head butting Edwin van der Saar. Dennis Bergkamp toys with Ayala and scores a typical worldie in the 90th minute. 

Following the defeat, thousands of miles away, two Ninth Standard boys sit dejected at the Caesar School Assembly Hall. Two La Albiceleste supporters, with the colors sucked out of their world. What did me and Sauvik Dasgupta talk about that mundane morning years ago? The words are lost in the tides of time, although the tears hung around for quite a while. I can neither confirm nor deny that an over enthusiastic Brazil fan did make the day even more miserable for us. 

It was the start of an initial bitter journey, with little cause for rejoice. 

We sped through school, varied degrees of attentiveness in class. Playing pranks, getting admonished, forging unbreakable bonds. Friendships were made and broken on the school grounds on sultry afternoons. Our days were eventful and busy. Studies. Sports. Cultural Program. The Undertaker’s Choke Slam. Stone Cold Steve Austin’s Stunner. Badminton, Football, Basketball, Pen fights. Kick ups and Round kicks. Lucky Ali’s songs, especially Anjane Rahon Mein. 

But at the back of our hearts remained an ageless agony, a yearning. A dream. We craved to see Argentina win the World Cup, grief fortifying our bond by the day. There were perhaps muffled cheers when Angel Di Maria and Lionel Messi helped lift the Olympic Gold in 2008. For years we believed that would be our only moment of glory with the Argentina national team. 

Life went on. We did too. From desk drumming in class room to an amateur singer-guitarist pair. From Mohiner Ghoraguli to Fossils. Tomay Dilam to Ekla Ghar Amar Desh to Summer of ’69. Yet the wait continued. We celebrated the Copa America win, revelled in the Finalissima triumph. But it was still the Holy Grail of football that we craved. 

Little did we know that there was a golden end to the painful trip. Perhaps even an ode to a friendship steeped in Football. When you want something so bad in life, well, yeah... 

Two months ago, on this day, the wait ended. Gonzalo Montiel’s strike cured the heartbreak of '98. Maybe it put a smile across Roberto Ayala's face. Perhaps it made Ariel Ortega take a deep breath and finally relax. 

It also helped two friends rest their demons. Today I close my eyes and head back to that day almost 25 years ago. I walk through the green school gate, past Krishna Da's shop, the lush green ground to my left. I step across the old library and reach the end of the Auditorium. There I find two friends immersed in pain and I tell them it's okay to be sad. I tell them that their story does take a glorious turn. That their friendship will last longer than the pains. 

Because what is life without friends who help you cross the treacherous bends? 

So here I am, taking this moment to give a shout-out to this “Asshole” and all my other friends who have stuck around, making life worthwhile. Here’s to life and friendship, and of course, football.

N. B. - This picture was taken the last time we met, years ago at Lokopriyo Gopinath Bordoloi Airport in Guwahati for a brief chat. It has been republished without permission, without remorse, without apology, as friendship should be.

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