Indian football is at a crossroads – on one hand, the country is gearing up to host its first ever global Fifa event, the men’s Under-17 World Cup 2017 in October this year, and on the other, the merger of the Indian Super League and the I-League has still not happened, leaving India in a bizarre situation with two leagues, leading to a lot of legacy clubs shutting down.

Goal for India

Save for a moment here or there, Indian football really has not managed to excite the masses in the same way that cricket, or more recently, the likes of badminton or hockey have done.

At the cost of generalisation, the majority of the youthful urban intelligentsia would much rather watch a Premier League match or a La Liga match than sit through an I-League encounter. And can they be blamed? Quite frankly, no.

The game’s administrators in the country, the All India Football Federation have not really done a lot to promote or market the game in the country. Information on football and footballers is low and limited to Wikipedia stubs. Hotbeds like the football crazy public of the North-East of India are rarely featured in traditional media.

What we at The Field realised that although news portals like Football News India (@fni) do their best to keep the public abreast of the ongoings of the game in the country, they need a helping hand in developing the culture and appetite for the Indian game among the public. The first step in introducing a new culture is to provide more information.

“Goal for India” is a series of stories appearing on The Field on the beautiful game from various footballing hotbeds in the country.

This is the first.

#Video : #IndianFootball Not Improving as Fast as Other Asian Teams: Sunil Chhetri - NDTV https://t.co/7ML25gt8xg — football news india (@fni) December 27, 2016

Shillong’s love for the Santosh Trophy

Shillong is a beautiful but tiny city, measuring about 64 square kilometres (eight by eight). It is the capital of Meghalaya, literally translating to “The Abode of the Clouds” in Sanskrit.

Located about two kilometres from the centre of the city is the hub of football in Shillong – the Polo Grounds. Here, one can see the imposing Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium, home to one of the city’s most famous clubs, Shillong Lajong.

Jawarharlal Nehru Stadium, home of Shillong Lajong

The Meghalaya Football Association and the state department of sports are also located here. About 200 metres from the Nehru Stadium lies its poorer cousin, the Shillong Sports Association Stadium, a multi-purpose stadium with a capacity of 4,000 and has natural grass as compared to the former, which is astroturf.

The Shillong SA stadium is also the centre for this year’s Santosh Trophy Northeast region qualifiers where six teams – Meghalaya, Assam, Arunachal Pradesh, Mizoram, Manipur and Tripura are vying for two spots in the next round of the tournament.

The hosts have already qualified, along with Mizoram, and the last match of this round is a dead rubber between Assam and Arunachal Pradesh, with both teams playing for pride, having not won a match as yet.

On the way to the stadium, one can see large banners advertising NorthEast United, a team playing in the Indian Super League, which ended a month ago, but not a peep which suggests that one of India’s oldest tournaments is taking place nearby.

The tickets are nominally priced at Rs 20 and Rs 40; one can also buy passes for the Meghalaya Invitational tournament, which will start shortly.

Willybert Wallang, the volunteer who checks my ticket before letting me in, says with a shrug, “Usually 400-500 people turn up, today only 150-200.” The vendors inside the stadium selling a assortment of juices, water bottles, cigarettes look disappointed too. “We have seen crowds double this size.”

Vendors at the stadium

As I enter the stadium, a big boombox is playing not Bollywood, but Closer by the Chainsmokers, followed by the Imagine Dragons’ hit Radioactive. The stadium is littered with ash, plastic and cups but one spectator is thankful as he informs me that the sitting gallery was recently renovated.

It’s a Monday afternoon but there’s still a rush

The AIFF’s unwillingness to pay for floodlights has meant afternoon kickoffs for most of these matches. The temperature is 25 degrees Celsius, somewhat warm by Shillong standards as the two fairly young teams line up.

The sides are well disciplined in the opening exchanges and play with a proper formation and shape, which belies their ages. As the viewers inside get involved in the game, the public outside the stadium sense that there is a match ongoing as the crowd increases in numbers.

It’s halftime and both sides have done well to cancel each other out. As I leave through the gate to buy myself a water bottle, Willy grins to me and says, “More than double the number has come in now.”

In the second half, both teams go for the jugular, egged on by the crowd. When Assam finally do manage a breakthrough, there is a smattering of applause. Arunachal’s blond No. 7 seems to be a crowd favourite, reaching for aerial balls, running in hard, keeping Assam’s defenders on their toes. Not only him, both teams and the coaches seem intent on winning the game, bellowing instructions from the touchline as a scuffle breaks out.

When the trailing team manage a counter attack and a long diagonal ball is sent through for 7 to chase, the crowd erupts, urging him to catch up to the ball. He tries his level best, but a poor first touch lets him down as the keeper gladly pouches the ball as the crowd take their seats once again.

Seated next to me is E Rymbai, a 49-year-old ex-footballer who played for Jaintia Hills in district tournaments. “I heard that there was a game on and as I was passing by, I decided to watch it,” he says. “In the mainland, its only cricket and they follow other leagues. But ask any little boy here, and he will know Indian footballers.” Rymbai also goes on to tell me there was no club culture at that time and that they would have to shell out from their own pockets to travel to tournaments.

His eyes transfixed on the game, he looks at the silver lining, “Things have improved now,“ as he lights his beedi, one of many in the stadium. As Assam score their second goal with a looping header, several voices can be heard analysing the play: “Assam’s play is more organised...Assam is very strong on the left side....Arunachal left themselves open that time.” Most of these voices, I later find out, are of neutrals and locals, who do not support either team.

As the match comes to an end, there is applause once more at the end. The teams reciprocate the dispersing crowd’s feelings as the stadium empties out, as quickly as it filled up.