10:45 a.m.
The game begins. The crowd roars with anticipation as I settle down on the sidelines and watch with a bit of disinterest. I really want a smoke.
Royal Bengal Raju's started yelling for the ball right off the bat. Jamal Bhai, actually quite a skilled player, is doing his best to ignore him. He's in possession of the ball; he sees a chance and takes a shot. Their keeper deflects it and a defender clears it, but we've put the pressure on. Bagher Bachcha Raju begins his complaining "you should've passed to meeeeeee" nonsense.
Belal's going ballistic in his tiger outfit. At one point he walks on all fours while roaring into the air. I'm sure this makes him feel like a tiger but it looks more like an overgrown toddler in a banana suit.
11:00 a.m.
Jamal Bhai scores a goal and we we're in the lead.
As soon as we score, Belal the dancing tiger claws menacingly at the air in front of Company Y spectators. It's like watching a yellow chingri mach dancing. Company X cheers him on, curling their hands into claws and imitating tiger roars. With all of them together they sound like a giant vacuum cleaner.
It's like a whole crowd of people going like this:
And then, of course, there's Belal:
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!
In fact everyone's more into roaring and the inevitable chant of KILL EM ALL KILL EM ALL. We're corporate football heavyweights, leading not only in the game but clearly excelling in Moronic Team Spirit Olympics. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry.
11:07a.m.
Apparently at some point someone from Company Y decided that they needed to outdo Belal the Tiger Mascot.
So about FOUR OF THEM actually went home to work on making their own mascot THERE AND THEN. Word on the street is that this was under direct orders from their CEO.
Their mascot arrived late, but oh boy, was it with a bang.
Made of cardboard, it looked a little something like this:
With the big words BLOW 'EM UP painted on the side.
They went ballistic chanting BLOW EM UP BLOW EM UP and imitating explosion noises. One guy kept miming throwing grenades, another was pretend-firing a machine gun.
In a way it was a pure expression of the suppressed raw, bestial, violence that lurks deep within the hearts of men.
In another way, it was totally retarded.
Belal, sensing the falling morale of Company X puts in a valiant effort to raise spirits, but in vain. Company Y are on fire.
11:14 a.m.
Approriately, their team scores an equalizer just before...
11:15 a.m.
Half time.
Players drink some water and sit around. Jamal Bhai announces some substitutions and does his best to ignore Raju Bhai harping on and on: "if you just pass to me I would ensure optimum goal."
I'm playing in the next half.
11:30 - 11:58 a.m.
I tackle someone. Someone tackles me. It's a game. It's enjoyable enough. After a while one even learns to filter out Raju Bagh's voice. Although seeing a tiger and tank facing off in the corner of my eye and hearing people chanting to kill and blow up everyone reminds me that I want to be gone from this place soon.
11:59 a.m.
Right before the final whistle Jamal Bhai puts the ball in the back of their net. The tigers roar behind us. But the Tanks start protesting - apparently we'd just committed a foul and this goal wasn't valid.
Note to future corporate sports event managers. When you plan and budget everything out, include a referee that doesn't work at one of the competing companies.
The referee was our very own Fahim.
A dispute starts on the field, as it does in situations like these.
And then comes Genghis Khan himself, Raju Bhai. Into the faces of the other team. He's an annoying fat prick and we hold back because we work with him. One of their players, a large burly beast, does not work with him and does not hold back. He shoves Raju Bhai really hard, which is a sort of delightful sight for me. Raju Bhai gets up roaring like a...well, like a tiger and is yelling at the top of his lungs:
"Do you think this is game!? Huh! Bloody shit! Do you think its bloody game?"
Yes. Everyone kind of thought it was a game.
Raju Bhai lunges forward but we hold him back. The crowd starts to get fired up, too. KILL 'EM ALL KILL 'EM ALL BLOW 'EM UP BLOW 'EM UP!!!
Genghis Khan Raju breaks free and starts to rush towards his opponent who reacts swiftly. He puts all his weight forward and shoves Raju back. He lands on me and we both fall over. I get a bruise on my arm from falling. Ouch.
It's at this point that a mini-riot almost breaks out. It starts with Belal the Tiger putting his fist through their tank mascots costume, destroying it. Then escalates with Tank-Man pulling off Belal's mask and stomping on it. People start getting up from where they're sitting, chests out and noses flaring. Fingers point aggressively, and there's lots of "HOI HOI HOI OYE BETA OYE BETA CHUP KOR SHAAAAALAA!!"
I nurse my hurt arm, and in my head I hear 2 million voices chanting KILL 'EM ALL. Looking around its like everything's moving in slow motion. Raju Bhai still being held back, threatening to chop off his opponent's balls, the guy from their team yelling back with his veins and eyes popping out with unsuppressed rage. Belal and Tank-Man almost in tears as they nurse the tattered remains of their costumes.
Many of these people are supposedly the best and brightest in our country. They've studied at top institutions, some at home, some abroad. Everyday they make decisions that somehow, directly or indirectly, affect the lives of millions of people - consumers, labourers, whatever - and this is what it comes down to. Everyday, I witness grown men and women showing themselves for what they truly are - incompetent morons.
12 p.m.
Final whistle. Before the issue resolves, or blows out into full-on violence. Clearly someone just wanted it all to end. The Tigers roar WE WIN WE WIN WE WIN and the Tanks keep yelling DRAW DRAW DRAW. There's lots of booing all round. We have to sit around for the final ceremony. I'm still not certain if our last goal was allowed.
I nurse my bruise.
Our CEO speaks and he's all about how it's not about victory but about team spirit. How togetherness and drive can accomplish anything. I glance over at Belal with his broken mask, a deflated spirit if I ever saw one. Then their CEO gets up and talks a bit more about translating the same passion that we displayed today into the workplace and into the continued distribution of crappy cheap products at highly marked-up prices. That was the gist of it.
There's still half an hour to go before all the medals, trophies and self-congratulatory back-patting speeches.
But there's only one thing anyone needed to hear. And it's their CEO as he announces that the official decision has been made to allow the last goal.
The roaring is defeaning. I wonder if they can hear the chants of KILL 'EM ALL on the moon. But the blood fails to rush to my head, the adrenaline fails to pump through my veins. Everyday I make the motions in a game I have no stake in.
Yes, we're winners. But we're winners in a game of football between two corporate companies. Because we're winners we have to go in and work harder next week. And the week after. And the week after. And we're supposed to like it. The thought leaves me drained, exhausted.
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