What began as a fever dream ended as a dream come true. That’s the only way we’d put the euphoria and self-importance we felt upon hearing that final full-time whistle.
We had done it – the outlandish first-years, who were a non-threat to the UG24s and the UG25s with crown jewels for players, had overcome the odds to ascend the throne of Ashokan football (or at least that’s what it felt like). While first-years routinely churn out generational talents in individual sporting categories, coming up trumps in team sports has been a rarer occurrence.
No mere coincidence, that. It takes time, a whole year of acclimation, sports fraternity membership, and shared struggles – over mandatory FCs, freshers’ flu and, of course, the perennial housing crises – for that batch identity, “us second-years” to take root in our mental selves.
A long, long time ago, these two sophomore writers were Freshers themselves, looking to challenge the status quo and make their mark on the Ashokan sports community. Their triumph did just that and a bit more.
Cue the music
We met at the Freshers’ Challenge – two enthusiastic footballers pulling up to the football field. We didn’t know each other’s names, just faces and skills – which “tekker had the sauce,” who was a Brexiteer, an all-round baller, or, god forbid, a wannabe.
Call it a networking opportunity, that first link-up. It was just the opening act. The names caught on soon after. Aneek Chatterjee. Angad Kanwar. Aryan Unarkat. Bhavin Shivaa. Chirag Kulshreshtha. Krishhiv Mehra. Samarth Bhirani. And Dhruv Pandey, who goes by Choco – yes, Choco. Seven out of the eight were Ashoka University Men’s Football Club (AUMFC) players. One had been invited to train with the team on his second day on campus. Four had made the cut after two weeks of open trials. Two more had been called up after the Freshers Challenge.
We were competitors at first, vying for the same spots on the team. Soon after, we found ourselves teammates, before gradually, eventually, finally growing into friends. We call ourselves Footybois. Long before that name came along, however, we went by another name. UG2023_CanceloCulture at the Batch Championships 2.0. That’s where it all began.
“Kids in the men’s team”
The Batch Championships are structured like the Olympics. Different sports, multiple participants, but a single contingent with each Batch immensely motivated to make their mark. The first years, as always, got the short end of the stick. We were just kids on the men’s and women’s teams. The UG25s and UG24s were the clear favourites, the ASPs after them. This was reflected in the tournament structure. Fourteen teams were drawn into four groups of three each – only the top team from each, along with the two best second-placed teams, would qualify for the knockouts. That made six. The final two teams were none other than the tournament favourites – the star-studded UG24 and UG25 teams – granted byes straight into the knockouts owing to their undeniable superior quality.
No one fancied us UG2023s. We’d captained our schools, represented our districts and states, and even played semi-professionally in the case of Bhavin - there was no shortage of self-belief or determination. We were driven and competitive, determined to make our mark. Seven out of eight of us were college team players, after all. This was our first big break, a golden chance to make our names.
The draws were made, and we were in a group with YIF’s Fellows and UG24’s Old Black, the latter boasting future APL 7.0 MVP Cabdifatah Mohamed. We sauntered through the group-stage fixtures, beating Fellows 2-0 and Old Black 1-0. Aryan Unarkat scored early, while Bhavin forced an own goal against the former before converting a penalty against Abdi & Co. Three goals, two clean sheets, free-flowing attacking football, but a little scrappy, far from our best. We knew we needed to step it up in the next match, the quarterfinals, if we wanted to go all the way, but the draw couldn’t have been harsher – we were up against the UG24’s Haryanvi Hullers, the spine of AUMFC. Hitman Zahaan Shapoorjee, vice-captain Atharva Dawar, starting defender Nikhil Mishra, and first-choice goalkeeper Dhruv Damodhar.
Tactics were changed – defend as a team, hold on to dear life and scrap our way to penalties. Playing three defenders in a 6-a-side game is unheard of, as football team captain Aryan Yadav tried to drill into our heads later in the final, but we stuck to our game plan. Aneek and Krishhiv would defend deep and “park the bus.” Samarth and Bhavin, meanwhile, would aim to neutralise Zahaan and Atharva, shadow them all the way to their beds in RH1 if need be and not give them an inch of space – a task almost as easy as opting in for an economics course on registration day.
Wish turned verity. We headed to tiebreakers, cautiously confident of pulling off the biggest of upsets. Not unexpectedly, it wasn’t straightforward. Even in the penalty shootouts both teams matched each other shot for shot, save for save, until the final battle between the custodians themselves. Choco – yes, Choco – saved Dhruv Damodhar’s shot and then stepped up, ever so coolly, to slot it straight through the elderman’s legs. The freshers to the semifinals, the Hullers back to their RH1 rooms.
The semifinals were the next day. An 8 PM kickoff, under the floodlights, on Sunday night, against Lamkhogin Haokip’s UG24s. We were two matches away from history - the first Freshers batch to be crowned Football Batch Champions. So close, yet so far. And that nervy 24-hour wait almost proved to be our undoing. The nerves, indeed, showed. A missed penalty, uncharacteristic lapses in defensive communication, and a rueful sense of missed opportunities plagued us as we laboured to penalties for a second match running. Yet calm was the demand - we were just three kicks away from the final. Bhavin, Chirag and Aneek each converted their spot-kicks while the UG24s could score none.
We were disappointed, in ourselves and our performances, in not meeting our own expectations, in letting each other down. As great as our pride was at making it so far, greater still was our apprehension of the legacy we'd mint. Deep down, we each wanted to be remembered as winners and champions, not merely “promising freshers.”
Between us and the trophy were the favourites – the UG25’s Ballhandlerz. The UG25 team was multifaceted and doubly dangerous. Every player was a problem. Led by arguably Ashoka’s best player, and now Men’s team captain, Dhruv Achappa, in the middle with Iceman Jaidhar, and the man who plays like he grew up playing in the cages of Paris, Dhananjay. Get past them, and you’d run into a defensive wall of Ahaan and Aryamaan, backed up by a tank in Aashraya as the goalkeeper. Achappa would say to Bhavin before their encounter, “If we lose, I won’t be sad, just embarrassed.” he was stating the obvious. That was the status quo.
The mere prospect was demoralising. We had to focus on ourselves more than them. The idea was simple. Bhavin, who had played alongside Achappa for years in Chennai, was to man-mark his teammate and rival. “Stop Achappa, stop the team.”
Our plan started to fall apart almost immediately. Achappa poked the ball into the net within two minutes. 1-0 and pin-drop silence. Had the massacre started? Were the freshers playing in the big leagues now? Oh, absolutely. We didn’t succumb to the pressure and kept to our plan. Bhavin nibbled away at Achappa and nabbed the ball before breaking away and converting past Aashraya.
1-1. Silence again, but a different silence. Uncomfortable. Unsettling. A silence born not out of pity, but uncertainty and dread. Was the tide turning? A speculative long-range effort from Chirag answered the crowd, drilling its path past Aashraya to make it 2-1. This time, the crowd erupted. Was there an upset on the cards? With halftime approaching, however, a quickly taken corner saw Jaidhar almost surgically place the ball into the bottom-left corner. 2-2.
Everyone loves a good underdog story and ours was right up there at the top. Nerves, adrenaline, the entire spectrum. High-octane, aggressive football, proud underdogs tackling and pressing like a pack of wolves possessed, bloodying ankles and noses along the way.
Football is a game of moments. Fleeting, evanescent flashes of individual extraordinaire. It wasn’t a unilateral effort, but a fearless attack, bursting with chemistry and magic, that won us that final. Chirag to Aneek at left-back, out to last man Bhavin, who dummied for Krishhiv. A quick chop from him and he sent the ball through the midfield to Samarth, our very own all-action captain, who turned Aryamaan to smash a shot as good as any of us have ever seen or will see, low and hard past Aashraya for a fairytale winner. 3-2.
Perhaps this had to do with proving a point. Showing that we weren’t to be taken lightly. That we were just as capable as our teammates. That we were more than “kids in the men’s team”. That the UG24s and UG25s were not the only leading teams of AUMFC. In hindsight, we probably took it too seriously – eight self-important freshmen wanting to make a name for themselves and earn “clout.” Either way, it matters little now. What we did do in winning arguably the marquee sport of the entire event was write a story. One of defying the odds, and hopefully, somewhere along the way, one that inspired.
Eye on the horizon
We see the new batch, the UG2024s (not to be confused with those famed UG24s, now ASP25s) and marvel at their pluckiness and confidence. “Oh we’re definitely winning Batch Championships,” they remark while we roll our eyes at their bravado, ignoring how much they’re just like us. There is that same palpable pride in being the Fresher Batch – a bold arrogance, a rebel mindset, a total unwillingness to adhere to status quos.
When we were freshers, our batch identity was weaker, yet to blossom; we’re second years now, and in numbers alone, we dominate the Ashoka University Sports Fraternity. We UG2023s go into this year’s batch championship as defending cis-men’s football champions and favourites for the non-cis-men’s trophy, with Ashoka Univeristy Women’s Football Club captain Anaaya Ravishankar and vice-captain Maleah Mehta leading out a behemoth unit stacked with team players. We remain the outright favourites in Men’s Basketball, in Volleyball, in Tennis and Table Tennis. The odds are stacked in our favour now – we’re the contenders and not the challengers. The expectations are different and, consequentially, so is the pressure.
As far as the title defence goes, these two authors stand markedly apart. Aneek demands “Good shots, calm heads, strong passes, and a few ankle-breaking Brexits,” while Bhavin claps back, “Chill da, no stress.” We’re not sure which way we’ll go, but what we know is that we have four days of hectic, high-quality sporting action, a bonanza across all disciplines, and we are here for it. Now eight, with the inclusion of Archit Das, we are AUMFC players, friends, brothers, Footybois in one Batch Championship team. These are your writers, the reigning Batch Champions.
Play our Batch Championship crossword here:
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