Who Next?

The monsoon of 2004 brings back vivid memories of my school in Coorg. A new batch of students had just arrived, and friendships were quickly forged in the pool and on the football field. Television was a rare luxury, reserved for special occasions like India’s cricket matches. I remember sitting in front of the screen, my eyes glued to one name: Rahul Dravid. ICC Player of the Year. ICC Test Player of the Year. But more than the accolades, he was a symbol of something larger, a “Changing India”. Showing us that greatness was within reach for those who pursued it with relentless grit.

A few hundred kilometers away, a boy named Pravruth was wrestling with a choice. The gleam of his Adidas Predators caught the light as he made the decision to trade off-spin for the thrill of being a striker. It wasn’t just a game to him. He charged into defenses like a man who believed in his path. That unwavering belief earned him a spot on the Karnataka state team for the Santosh Trophy, his determination becoming his defining trait.

Meanwhile, in the heart of Bangalore’s army cantonment, Shree Harsha was discovering his love for hockey. Just weeks after the legendary Dhanraj Pillay hung up his boots for the National team, Harsha carried his hero’s legacy not only in his heart but on his sleeve as he took the pitch at his school. The roar of India’s magnificent cricket exploits still echoed, but for him, there was an unshakable pull toward something more, a deepening passion for a sport that stirred something greater within him. That spark, kindled by the grace of a retiring hero and the rise of Indian cricket, would only grow brighter with time.

In Pune, young Abdul was drawn to the color blue; not just any blue, but the blue of a football team from London. They were on the cusp of a meteoric rise, led by a new Russian owner and a charismatic Portuguese manager. That team would fill Abdul’s world with joy, shaping his love for sport in a way he couldn’t yet fathom.

In Jaipur, a young Sam sat mesmerized, watching Karnam Malleswari clinch her Olympic bronze once again. The dream of playing multiple sports burned brightly within him, but life had other plans. Education and finances kept him anchored for a decade. Yet, whenever he stepped onto the pitch for a pick-up football game or joined a club cricket match, something inside him ignited. In those moments, playing any sport, Sam came alive in a way nothing else could match. That fire, once lit, never dimmed.

And in Delhi, a young Abhinav fell in love with Sir Alex Ferguson’s Red Devils as they signed two 19-year-olds; one destined to be United’s top scorer, the other the greatest of all time. At the same time, he watched in awe as Roger Federer began his reign over the tennis world. But for him, tennis was more than a sport; it was heritage. Ball-boying his father and grandfather’s fierce duels, he didn’t yet know that these passions were inspiring a journey yet to unfold.

These were just stories, scattered across different cities and years, seemingly disconnected. But two decades later, something magical happened. Pravruth, Shree Harsha, Abdul, Sam, Abhinav, and I found ourselves on a shared path. A belief that we could help turn India into a sporting nation.

It’s a bold dream, no doubt. Even daunting at times. But we’ve walked enough miles to know there’s no single playbook for this journey. So, we’ve written our own. Without knowing where it’ll take us, we’ve embraced the uncertainty.

Some of us are building communities where sport is accessible to everyone. Others are focused on creating world-class infrastructure. Every day, we meet new players, each a chance to ignite the same passion for sport that once fueled the start of our own journeys. We believe that deep down, everyone has that same childlike desire to play. We’re just here to light that spark.

I personally don’t think of sport as solely the government’s responsibility. It’s a shared goal, a vision held by entrepreneurs like us. And here’s the thing, we don’t see it as individual pursuits, but as a team effort. Together, we’re working toward the same dream.

Two decades on from those early days in 2004, we still end every conversation with the same question: Who next?

It’s more than a question, it’s a challenge. If we’re serious about growing India’s sporting culture, we need to keep asking, Who next? Because if we’re not adding to the number of active players, we’re losing ground.

For India to thrive, we need more people playing. Not just for the love of sport, but for the sake of health, for awareness, for the future. Parents who believe in their child’s sporting dreams might just be raising the next Olympian. And that child? They might be the one who brings home the gold we’ve all been waiting for.