A league of ordinary gentlemen

Vinayak Padmadeo in Pune

Earning Rs 5 lakh for a job that makes you sweat for a little less than a month would be at par with senior management earnings in the corporate world. A kho kho player earning Rs 5 lakh would be in the top bracket in the Ultimate Kho Kho (UKK), and even Rs 1 lakh is premium pay package, but this sum would amount to a lifetime’s savings for many players.

Most players in UKK are not from middle-class families. Consider Vishal, who is playing an important role in Odisha Juggernaut’s defence. He makes a measly Rs 8,000 per month as a courier boy for two Amazon-linked stores, and getting a Grade A pay packet of Rs 5 lakh in UKK is like hitting the jackpot.

For Dilip Ratan Khandvi – a farmer’s son from Krushnanagar village in Surgana Taluka in Nashik – other than the money, the sudden popularity from appearing on TV telecasts is his life’s biggest achievement.

India dreams

For Dipesh More, the all-rounder for Orissa Juggernauts, UKK has brought in a new set of expectations. The Bandra boy used to drop newspapers every morning before heading for his college. Life became easier after he landed a job as a ticket collector with Western Railways in 2015. He had nothing more to look forward to in sport as he had already appeared in several national championships. Though he was still actively involved with his parent club, Mahatma Gandhi Club in Bandra, but since he had not earned any India cap, life was getting a bit stagnant. Then he heard that UKK was going to be launched soon. The Covid pandemic, though, slowed down the dreams. Then, with the launch of the league, he had a new desire – to wear the India jersey.

“I want to represent our country. It was a dream of my late mother and now I will do everything to get that jersey,” More, whose mother passed away during a national camp before the pandemic, says with much sadness.

“Dreams of both my mother and me will get fulfilled if I play for India. Till then I will work very hard to maintain my fitness to achieve it,” adds the 27-year-old who bagged a Grade C contract worth Rs 1.5 lakh.

No more vada pav and chai

For Gujarat Giants skipper Ranjan Shetty, the league and its professional set-up have opened his eyes to a different world. The office superintendent in Western Railways has had more than his fair share of struggles growing up in Navi Mumbai, making money from local kho kho matches. If you are a paanI shop owner’s son, there are not many luxuries you can afford. From time to time, Shetty has had to help his father in the shop. On a number of occasions, he was told to quit the game, but he persisted. Those questions about survival were answered once he got a job with the Railways. Life before that revolved around his local club, Vihang Kreeda Mandal, which he joined in 2005.

Before the start of the league, for which Shetty bagged a Grade A contract, he had all but decided to quit playing professionally. He would have continued playing for Western Railways – after all, he won four gold medals with his team and even represented India and won the team gold in the 2016 South Asian Games. However, he had no desire left in kho kho, but then came UKK and energised him.

“It is funny that when I was serious about playing, diet would mean having vada pav and chai… because we had no money,” he says of his days of struggle. “Now diet means no sweets, and eating salads and proteins before a heavy workout in the gym. I used to think going to the gym would mean bulking up, but now I know that’s not how it is,” he says with a broad smile.

He reckons he can still last for another three-four years in professional kho kho. “I had played everything. I have a steady job so there was nothing to look forward to. Besides, I did not want to become a roadblock in a junior’s career. Now I am not going to retire. I will last for three years for sure,” he says.

‘I am famous now’

Dilip Ratan Khandvi knows what he will do with his earnings from UKK – the 20-year-old will hand over the entire amount to his father, Ratan Pandu Khandvi, a farmer. “Jab paise nahi thhe to ghar walon ne sambhala, ab hai to ye sab unko doonga (Family helped me when I had no money… Now I have money, I’ll give it all to them,” he says.

The source of his greatest joy are his videos representing Odisha Juggernaut being shared on Instagram. His popularity has soared and his followers have risen from 300 to over 900 overnight. People seek his autographs at Pune’s Chhatrapati Shivaji Sports Complex, the venue of UKKL’s first edition.’

“It feels good that kho kho players are finally getting recognised. We were known locally earlier, or within the kho kho set-up, but now people are seeing us live on TV. My village folks are preparing a grand welcome on my return,” Khandvi says.

“The best part is that my brothers Ganesh, Dinkar and Kailash were here with around 10-15 people from my village. They came with my poster. However, I could not meet them. But I loved it. I am asked to sign autographs in every match. It is unreal,” the youngest of the Khandvi boys explained.

‘I will return to courier duties’

Vishal says he will return to his courier duties once he returns home to Shakarpur, Delhi. He says the Rs 5 lakh from UKK would not last forever, and he must continue to help his mother and sister to sustain the household.

Vishal is a fresh graduate from Delhi’s Satyawati College but the 22-year-old has been contributing at home since 2018, when he joined an MCD school in Shalimar Bagh as a kho kho coach.

The family’s struggles started in 2012, when his father lost his battle with cancer. Mother Champa Devi joined a candy factory while sister Soni Kumari got a job in a factory making baby shoes. However, the two women lost their jobs during the pandemic, forcing Vishal to take up odd jobs. He first joined Mother Dairy as a helper, loading crates for supply and earning Rs 12,000 a month. The job took a toll as he had to work through the night, due to which he had to miss online classes. It also took a toll on his health as he got weak because he started missing his meals. He quit and got work as a courier boy with a store in Hyderpur, earning Rs 4,000 a month. “During festival periods my earning would rise to over Rs 7,000. Now I earn Rs 8,000 to Rs 10,000 as I have two stores to service,” Vishal says.

“The money I earn from the league will go to my family. All of it. I do not need anything. When I return I will go back to courier deliveries,” he adds.

A father’s wish unfulfilled

Aniket Bhagwan Pote’s story is similar to Vishal’s. His father Bhagwan, who was a driver with the Brihanmumbai Electricity Supply and Transport (BEST), died of cancer before the pandemic. Even on his deathbed, Bhagwan told Aniket to pursue his dreams. The dreams came true on the opening day of the league, playing for Gujarat Giants. His mother was in the crowd to cheer him on. “She only said: ‘If only your father were here!’ It would have meant the world for him to see me playing on TV telecast,” the 27-year-old from Bandra in Mumbai says.

“I never wanted to join the camp in 2019 for the Asian Championships, but he forced me to join it,” he adds.

Aniket used to play for the Bank of India on a meagre contract of Rs 4,000 per month. The payments stopped during the pandemic, and he took up a courier’s job with Blue Dart. It paid him Rs 13,000 a month, but kho kho was his first love and he quit. “No private company will allow its employees to miss work regularly, so I had to quit,” Aniket says. “Playing local matches helped saved Rs 7 lakh, and it came handy for my father’s medical expenses. I will hand the money from UKK to my mother.”