An Injury, A Strategy
It was decided that I would not play in the league matches, only the semi-final and final.
R. S. Gentle was nominated captain for the league matches. The team was told to keep my injury a closely guarded secret.
The Autobiography of Balbir Singh (Senior)
By Samuel Banerjee, Vikas Publishers, 1977
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An Injury, A Strategy |
A top level meeting was held between our manager, Group
Captain O. P. Mehra, Chief-de-Mission, Air Marshal Arjan Singh and IHF Vice
President Ashwini Kumar.
It was decided that I would not play in the league matches, only the semi-final and final. R. S. Gentle was nominated captain for the league matches. The team was told to keep my injury a closely guarded secret. |
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he sixth
day of the Olympics - November 27 - was an anticlimax. Ten years ago that day I
had married Sushil. I longed to be with her, our daughter Sushbir and son
Kanwalbir. However, there would be no celebrations. Instead, I was in terrible
agony.
It was the opening match of the 1956 Olympic Hockey Tournament. I had scored 5 goals against Afghanistan. Then I got badly injured.
I was hit smack on the right finger of my right hand. It was like a steam-hammer ramming into my finger nail, almost crippling me. The pain dazed me and caused a momentary blackout. To this day I am surprised how I did not collapse.
Later that evening, an X-ray revealed that I had fractured my finger, with the top phalange cracked at several places. The nail had turned blue and the swollen finger looked ugly.
A top level meeting was held between our manager, Group Captain O. P. Mehra, Chief-de-Mission, Air Marshal Arjan Singh and IHF Vice President Ashwini Kumar. It was decided that I would not play in the rest of the league matches, but only in the semi-final and final.
Randhir Singh Gentle was nominated as captain for the remainder of the league matches. Each member of the team was told to keep the details of my injury a closely guarded secret.
Harbail Singh, whom I regarded as my hockey mentor since my university days at Khalsa College, Amritsar, shared a room with me at the Olympic village. He tried to chase away my blues, coaxing me, cajoling me, even scolding me.
It was futile. I cursed myself. I saw myself as a skipper abandoning his sinking ship. I had a recurring nightmare of standing in front of a faceless goalkeeper, his hands akimbo, who was laughing at me and daring me to score.
Author with USA Captain Neuhold Black (1956 Olympics)