Wicked Google-y, originally uploaded by suitablegirl.

…just like most of you do. Me? I heart Google Doodles, those logo variations which Googler Dennis Hwang wittily creates to celebrate holidays or significant events. It takes very little to thrill me. Close your mouth, darling…flies will make a home there…that and it’s not polite to be so shocked. 😉

This doodle wasn’t on the Amreekan search page (desi, please*), oh no. Obviously it was on Google.co.uk as well as Google’s Indian page. Interestingly enough (though I’m sure there will be a hugely obvious reason as to “why” which I will be edified with via comments in, oh, four or five minutes) Google’s pages for Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka were not so festive.

Since I famously and rather foolishly promised to attempt to cover the World Cup, I thought I’d commence this mutinous cricket mania with an easy post; besides, my cricket tutors have all been wayyy too busy to field my frantic and stupid questions. 😉 Continue reading →

I can’t say that I’m brimming with enthusiasm about the Super Bowl, what with (a) my team not being in it, and (b) the two-week break that precedes it, which really kills the post-season viewing momentum in the name of cramming in seven more days of bullshit corporate hype. Having said that, though, this seems an appropriate time to spotlight the work of Aditi Kinkhabwala, a real-life desi woman sportswriter, who had a Super Bowl-related piece this week at Sports Illustrated’s website. In it, she proclaims her love for Indianapolis Colts linebacker Gary Brackett, whose path to football stardom was several times barred by family tragedy:

Less than a week later, [Brackett’s father] Granville passed away, his heart finally having given out.

Brackett finished that season with 25 tackles. Then shortly after the Super Bowl, in February 2004, [Brackett’s mother] Sandra was rushed to the hospital for an emergency hysterectomy. She never left, an operating-table stroke putting her into what would be a fatal coma.

Brackett went back out to Indy that summer, until, just before mini-camp, he found out his brother Greg had leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant. Gary told head coach Tony Dungy the outside shot of staving off Greg’s leukemia was more important than fighting for a roster spot and he skipped the camp.

A few weeks after he made the donation Brackett fought his way onto Dungy’s roster. He again played special teams, before pounding Denver for 11 tackles in his one start in January. And before Greg, despite the transplant, succumbed to the cancer in February.

The other reason Aditi loves Brackett, besides his triumph over the odds, is that he played his college ball at Rutgers. In addition to her column at SI.com, Kinkhabwala is a staff sports writer at the Bergen Record in New Jersey, where her beat is Rutgers sports. She covered the unlikely success of the Scarlet Knights football team this past season, and is now deep in the men’s and women’s basketball seasons. Continue reading →

It’s well known that washed-out crooners and comedians end up in Las Vegas. The same role is played in the international soccer world by a few wealthy backwaters where once-glamorous players on the far side of their prime can poke the ball around a few more years against subpar opposition. For some reason Qatar, principally among the Gulf states, has been such a haven for a decade or more. Japan is another such venue. But the place you really want to end up if you’re a footballing once-great is — following the path that Pelé and Beckenbauer once trod — the good old U. S. of A.

Before you pounce: Yes, I know that the U.S., Japan, even Qatar are all soccer powers on the rise in an international scene where talent is more and more evenly spread. And it’s arguable that some of these early retirees have contributed to this leveling, although I’m more inclined to believe that when they get off their arses and coach (like Zico for Japan last year), as opposed to collect large checks and come on in the seventy-fifth minute to please the adoring masses.

In light of these considerations I guess we should refrain from judging in advance the impact that the arrival of Golden Balls himself, David Beckham, in the U.S. to play for the Los Angeles Galaxy will have on the development of the sport. But considering the amount of money that’s being shelled out for him — $250 million over five years, the richest contract in American professional sports — it’s fair to say that someone out there has great expectations.

One constituency that has to be happy is Los Angeles realtors, as the establishment of a West Coast Beckingham Palace is sure to reflate the market for Beverly Hills mansions. Victoria Beckham (I know, how did I manage to take this post so far without mentioning her?) has been spotted scoping out properties in the company of Katie Holmes, the latest Tom Cruise brainwashee spouse. It seems Katie and Posh are BFFs — who knew? — and so I suppose we can expect numerous stories ahead of TomKat and Posh & Becks double-dating shenanigans, hopefully in all possible permutations.

But what does it mean for the desis? Tipster Kamala is on the case. She sent us a link to this picture that Sports Illustrated ran a couple of days ago on its website. She notes:

observe Beckham’s left hand. If my hindi is right, his tattoo says Victoria in Hindi, in huge letters. It’s so clearly visible. Hmm.

Hmm is right, my sister! Well, it’s been documented before that Posh and Becks like to get their India on — it’s apparently a common malady among the Brit celebrity set — and beside, who could resist that sinewy Devanagari script, it’s so sensuous and exotic. Between this and the whole Bend-It thing, perhaps Posh and Becks could help us re-open our recently-shuttered Los Angeles bureau.

We’re also going to need some investigators and paperazzi of our own (Taz, Shruti, I’m looking at you). For now we’ll have to make do with this Los Angeles perspective from Defamer, which has opened a new category (“Celebutard Immigration Issues”) to mark the event and offers here its “official position” on the arrival of Posh & Becks:

We are wholeheartedly against the idea of foreign attention whores stealing away scarce Lohan-diddling and vagina-flashing opportunities from our homegrown celebutards, and we’d rather see our native paparazzi burn down Los Angeles rather than forfeit their turf to the coming wave of alien guerrilla photographers who will soon be dispatched to document the Beckhams’ every Starbucks visit.

Meanwhile, Las Vegas just got a whole lot closer. Spice Girls reunion tour, anyone? Continue reading →

Kenya is one of those rare Commonwealth countries that has a large Indian diaspora population but where cricket isn’t so popular. It used to be. Kenya is only an associate member of the International Cricket Council, as is the United States, and so does not play test cricket, but thanks to some good qualifying tournament play, it has made it to the World Cup. It did so in 1996 and 1999 under the leadership of Aasif Karim. The spin bowler came out of retirement when his side qualified again in 2003 for the last world cup in South Africa. He had served as captain of the 1999 side.

When I met him in his home, we tried to determine if his Indian descent and national team captaincy represented any sort of “first.” We wondered if he was the first desi to captain a national team (other than a team from the subcontinent) in a world cup (any cricket-mad mutineer know differently?).

Kenya won total of five matches in 2003, and Aasif was named Man of the Match for his performance against Australia (the world champions), even though his side lost. He enjoyed playing at the highest level but after the cup decided it was time to move on. Kenya’s commitment to cricket was small (professional sport here is hardly funded at all; even soccer, the most popular sport, lacks facilities, organization, and a commitment to development). But wouldn’t he like to be Kenya’s Brian Lara, perpetual captain and national cricket icon? “Better to go when they ask, ‘Why did you retire?’ and not ‘When are you going to retire?'”” he says. Continue reading →

I could barely restrain my glee yesterday when I switched on the TV during the day, and found myself witnessing the 15th Asian Games in Doha. Why, you may wonder? Because I found myself watching (wait for it)…international, competitive, kabaddi.

One of the more eclectic sports, and for people such as myself who know nothing about the game other than its featuring scantily-clad, oiled-up men chanting, kabbadi is played by two seven-player teams, which take turns raiding each other’s side of the court. One scores points either touching an opposing player and returning to your own side, or by an opposing team managing to prevent a raider from returning to his side.

I mean, I sort of know what it’s all about, but my experience with kabaddi was limited to having heard about it, seen the occasional match while channel-surfing at 4:00 a.m., and once or twice, driving past Clifton Beach in Karachi on a Sunday evening and seeing what I was informed was a match in progress. I certainly had no idea that kabaddi had hit an international level, and even less aware was I that Japan and Iran are also into the sport. I also had no idea that (a) this existed, and (b) that there were some hotties involved in the game: Am I just clueless about this, or did I somehow miss the (re?)surgence of kabaddi? Best of all though, I can’t help but feel somewhat vindicated by this image. On behalf of all brown men everywhere who enjoy getting oiled up and tussling with other oiled-up men in skimpy clothing, I say carry on my brothers! We shall overcome!

Continue reading →