Collapse of a hockey empire
Pakistan were once the powerhouse of the sport, but their fortunes have gone into a possibly terminal decline
When the Pakistan hockey team take on Great Britain in their first match of the Beijing games this August, a nation of more than 160 million people will be hoping and praying they can end a streak of three consecutive medal-less Olympics. Unfortunately mismanagement, underfunding and a steady decline in grassroots talent since the 1980s means those dreams are likely to remain unfulfilled.
Once the undisputed champions of the hockey world, Pakistan have fallen on hard times and are currently a lowly seventh in the International Hockey Federation (IHF) rankings. They only just qualified for the Olympics by the skin of their teeth, thanks to a third place finish in the 2006 Asian Games in Doha, and the results thereafter haven't inspired much confidence.
In May the team came fourth at the Azlan Shah Cup in Malaysia, behind Argentina, India and New Zealand. Neither India nor Argentina are Beijing bound, and the tournament included an embarrassing 5-3 loss to minnows Belgium that exposed glaring weaknesses in defence. Things improved in Ireland last month where Pakistan picked up the Setanta Trophy after defeating Canada in the final, though it hardly made up for the fact that they had failed to qualify for the Champions Trophy, comprising the world's top six, in Rotterdam around the same time.
It's a far cry from the glory days when the sight of the men in green inspired respect and perhaps a touch of jealousy in opponents. Back when pitches were made of real grass and ball skills ruled supreme, the stick wizards of the Pakistani and Indian teams held an unrelenting hegemony over world hockey. Tucked away in the trophy cabinet of the Pakistan Hockey Federation (PHF) are four World Cups, three Olympic golds, three Champions Trophies and three Asia Cups. In fact, Pakistan were the driving force behind the launch of both the World Championship and the Champions Trophy – though the last time they won either was the famous double of 1994.
One man who remembers those victories well is Asif Bajwa, then a star player and now secretary of the PHF. Outlining the reasons for hockey's decline, he noted that the rot started to set in during the 1980s, as the transition from grass to Astroturf pitches began in earnest. Some analysts contend this was a deliberate containment strategy against Pakistan and India on the part of the IHF, but Bajwa takes a more pragmatic approach. "The rules are the same for all teams, but we failed to adapt our strategies," he says, noting that the modern game is far more tactical than skills-based. While slow, at times uneven grass pitches encourage an emphasis on individual skills, faster Astroturf pitches are more conducive to passing and team-wide strategies.
A research department set up by the PHF began working half-heartedly on ways to adapt, but serious technical analysis is far behind other international teams. "We still rely on the old ways: dribbling, jab tackles, and long hits, and that has to change," adds Bajwa. Islahuddin Siddiqui, a former captain, Olympic champion and currently the chairman of selectors, agrees: "The success of the early 1990s, thanks to the individual brilliance of a few players, masked the real problems in Pakistan hockey."
He says that throughout the 1980s, cricket was growing in popularity under the dynamic leadership of Imran Khan, and, after Pakistan's cricket World Cup victory in 1992, the talent pool available to hockey drastically declined. At present, the pool of potential national team players is a meagre 35: it should, he says, be closer to 100.
The disproportionate popularity of cricket is a major gripe among hockey players and administrators. After all, they say, the cricketers have won just one major trophy, as opposed to the 20 or so Pakistan's hockey players have brought home. The funding, too, bears no comparison: the Pakistan Cricket Board's annual budget comes in at Rs7billion (£49m), while only Rs150million (£1m) is allocated to the PHF.
"Cricket is the monster," confirms Bajwa. "It attracts all the sponsors. They have the money, the sponsors and the glamour – so if you're a young kid what would you chose?" In infrastructure terms, the PCB is building new stadiums all over the country, while there are still only two major hockey stadiums – one in Lahore and the other in Karachi, neither owned by the PHF.
Hockey also suffers from another problem common to all sports in Pakistan today: the need to provide adequate coaches and facilities at school level. Following the separation of the Sports Board from the Education Board in 2005, schools in dire need of cash for textbooks and teachers are paying less and less attention to sport. Compounding these woes even further are the usual farces and palace intrigues that plague Pakistan sports. For one, it's an open secret that the team coaches and management are at loggerheads with the administration, whom they accuse of being political appointees. The administration, it is felt, is keen to see the Olympics off before bringing in wholesale changes.
On the team front, prima donna-ism is alive and well. Seniors such as left-half Waseem Ahmad and Sohail Abbas, who holds the world record for most goals in an international competition, are both missing after making demands for preferential treatment the management could not oblige.
So what possible avenues are there for Pakistan at the Games? Head coach Khwaja Zakauddin, speaking at the start of the Olympic training camp, offered a more optimistic analysis, choosing to highlight team strengths.
Describing the team's trademark breakaway pillar as "unbeatable", he singled out Shakeel Abassi, Rehan Butt, Abbas Haider and Muhammed Zubair as players who are "very fast on the break – when they break away, they can't be caught". It's a view, he said, that is shared by rival coaches who have seen the team in action recently in Ireland and Malaysia. While major question marks remain over the defence and in particular struggling keeper Salman Akbar, Pakistan could potentially stick to what they know best for Beijing by adopting the old Brazilian approach to football: never mind how many they put in your net, as long as you put more in theirs.
It's certainly not a long-term strategy, nor does it guarantee success, but a month away from the Olympics is too little time to hope to achieve miracles. The real work of rebuilding will come later, though with what energy and vigour depends on the outcome, and whether or not a podium finish is achieved. As Islahuddin says, "one big victory is all it takes."
On the other hand, an early exit might just stir some action from the politicians, who have neglected hockey over the years while continuing to regard winning as an entitlement.
Hockey: Issam Ahmed: Collapse of Pakistan's hockey empire | Sport | guardian.co.uk
