The Indian hockey team will mainly rely on PR Sreejith, the player whose last-second save helped them finish on the podium at the Tokyo Games in 2021, when it starts its bid to recapture the Asian Games gold medal and qualify for the Paris Olympics next week.
India’s PR Sreejith, a goalie, talks about how Indian hockey is changing, his rise to the top, using reflexes in real life, and the importance of education in sports. Sandeep Dwivedi, the national sports editor, presided over this discussion.
I really enjoy it. I never consider the future or the outcome. I consider how I can improve. I don’t like being pushed. During a penalty shootout, I only consider what I can accomplish at that specific moment and inside those eight seconds.
In a shootout, only the mental aspect takes place. Only eight seconds remain for the striker and the custodian. It’s tough since you can’t convey your level of fear or overconfidence. You must maintain emotional neutrality. In order to prepare for a penalty shootout, I assess the opposition and consider the striker’s area of expertise. I just don’t talk about things. ‘It’s about you and those eight seconds,’ I tell myself. That player, not that.
(Laughs) Kerala produced many films during that era that depicted hostel life, including hanging out with friends, going out with a girl, watching films, skipping class and so forth.
I wanted to avoid it because my parents were severe. I discovered the school is nothing like what is shown in the movies after enrolling there. You had to wake up early for training on top of having to wash your clothing, clean your dishes, iron your uniform, and do your assignments without assistance. I so reflected, “Where have I come from? I was better off at home!”
There was a custodian who approached me and said, “Spree, come to hockey; it’s easier to play for Kerala; we are a good team; we practice every day; and we can beat anyone.” By the time you reach the tenth grade, you can represent Kerala at the national level. In Kerala, there is a unique programmed for athletes.
You earn 60 points on the school board exams if you play for your state squad. Up until the eighth grade, I was a bright student, but the moment I took up a hockey stick, I put my pen down. So I had the thinking, “are, if I play hockey, I’ll get 60 marks.” That is how I got into hockey.
That particular moment was unquestionably one of them. My first thinking was specifically related to those 60 markings. There was no genuine dedication to the sport. I was aware that if the team performed well, I would inevitably advance to the nationals. But once I realized that the school’s equipment wasn’t very good and that I would need to acquire my own, I felt under pressure.
For us, the price of Rds. 3,500–4,000 was a significant sum. Along with the pleasure of receiving the new uniform came some anxiety: I hoped I hadn’t made the wrong sport or position (keeper) choice. Why did I become a custodian when the hockey stick would have cost less than Rds. 2,000? But I made the decision that I must succeed because my father has invested a lot of money in me.
When I first arrived at the camp, I was furious that we were given different kinds of rice and roti every day. Sambar would never come to us. Even the cooking of chicken varied. Language was a problem. I was unfamiliar with the weather. I even considered leaving. Really, there was nobody to chat to. Being a custodian meant that I didn’t have to combine with other players on the pitch, so there was no need for me to get to know anyone in-depth. This was the one thing that helped me.
There were challenges in the teams back then, such how unlikely it was for someone to pass the ball to you if you weren’t pals with them. It didn’t matter to me whether I talked to other people or not. The fact that I was able to save the shots was crucial.
