Sixteen years of training, and in an Asian Games quarterfinal a soft tennis player felt his hands were in chains. Once bronze was certain, the same court looked larger. A world MMA champion loses sleep over a partner’s extra burpee; a medallist comes home to questions about marriage instead of applause. The hardest battles these champions described were not on the field. What does wisdom ask of one who must fight with full strength, yet not be ruled by the score?
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Originally published in Times Now on 24 October '26
When their boat was ahead, Salman seemed an excellent teammate. When it fell behind, the same Salman suddenly appeared full of faults. Rower Satnam Singh admitted this in front of Salman, who acknowledged feeling much the same. Both laughed. They had won an Asian Games bronze together but never confessed these thoughts during competition.
I asked them: Had Salman’s character changed with the boat’s speed? Only the result had changed. Yet with it, our judgment of another person changes. So does our judgment of ourselves. When the boat leads, we feel capable; when it falls behind, we doubt ourselves. What changed?
At a recent dialogue session in a Delhi-NCR auditorium, I met athletes from rowing, judo, mixed martial arts, soft tennis, kurash and powerlifting, including Asian Games medallists. They feared decisive matches, teammates’ success, and family expectations. Their questions extended far beyond sport.
