ROURKELA: If you look closely, it's possible to see Odisha's myriad hockey stories. It sings on the roads you travel. It's inside the bags that kids carry, the protruding hockey sticks hard to miss. It's in the brand-new blue astroturf complexes that have cropped up all over the state. It's inside both the World Cup stadia, thanks to the locals who have bought tickets like it's a pandemic-era NFT.
So, it's not a surprise to come across a 71-year-old who is in the middle of a coaching session under a surprisingly hot Sunday winter sun. An hour later, it's hard not to be amazed by Dominic Toppo, the 71-year-old coach who has dedicated his life to the sport that's given him so much joy and lots of associated sorrow.
On this particular Sunday morning, Dominic, who usually goes to Church, is out on the turf, coaching kids who are anywhere between 11 and 20. Yet, he's probably one of the fittest players in the game he's currently playing. A feint leaves a young boy for dead. A dodge sends a kid for a hotdog. He leaves a third kid in his wake with a sprint. His four-part act is complete when he expertly spins past an onrushing midfielder before releasing the winger down the left. Even as he executes all of this in under 10 seconds, Dominic is constantly in conversation with his wards, the children he is coaching in Kukuda, an hour's drive from Rourkela on a good day.
He's well known in these parts for he has produced multiple junior and senior internationals, especially on the women's side. "It's easier to coach them," he says. "They listen."
He first started coaching around 2000. Since then, he has hardly had a day off. He either coaches his players or is busy taking them to competitions across the country. "I searched for a ground that was plain, cleaned it and started training there," he says. "We began on the mud ground, very close to the current place where artificial turf was recently installed."
In a 22-year coaching career, he has seen an awful lot but all of it comes back to one overarching theme: a love for hockey that became an obsession. It saw him prioritise the sport over his wife. It saw him lose his shop for the sport. It saw him mortgage his land so that he could continue taking his team to competitions inside the state and elsewhere. You could even argue that his is a cautionary tale of what happens when you allow your obsession to consume you but he doesn't see it that way. At some level, he is just grateful that he has given his unconditional love to the sport he breathes.
His story begins in the last century when he's explaining why he decided to give coaching a go. "I didn't know about sports hostels," he says. "Had I gone to a sports hostel, I could have played for India. I thought, 'so what if I couldn't play, I will ensure other kids do not suffer the same fate as me'. At that moment, I decided to train them and try and produce international players. That effort is going on even today.
"I have produced many national players. More than 70-80 players I've trained have got jobs because of hockey. From my village itself, I have produced 9 international players, 8 girls and 1 boy. And overall, I have 13 internationals, including junior and senior. Lilima Minz, Punam Toppo (goalkeeper), Anupa Barla, Punam Barla in seniors."
Even as he was producing players who went on to win medals for the national sides, he lost everything he had. After he lost everything he had, he decided to pledge the rest he owned. "In all these years, I haven't taken donations from a single person. After I left school, I started a ration shop and it did good business. So I dipped into those funds to buy hockey gear for my players.
"As I focused on hockey, everything else in my life got affected. I had to shut my shop as a consequence. I was roaming here, there, everywhere... I left everything behind - my business, my family, my wife with just one aim. Creating international players. "Since I did not take help from anyone - and neither did anyone come forward to help me - so I mortgaged whatever land I had so that I could take my team outside the village for tournaments - Delhi, Mumbai, Punjab, Haryana, Nanital, West Bengal, Benaras, Nashik... I roam everywhere with my team. For that, you need funds and since I had no other source of income, I mortgaged my land."
He mortgaged his ancestral land for a fraction of its actual value. He got `60,000 in return. For the last 12 years or so, he has been trying to return the money but to no avail. And till he returns that money, he won't get his ancestral land back. A further tragedy hit him when he lost his wife after a prolonged stay at the hospital (he ended up selling his car to give her proper care).
These days, he depends on his son who supports him. "I have one child, and he's a driver. He supports me but it's tough. Just yesterday (Saturday), I ate some snacks for Rs 20 or Rs 30."
Considering the sport has, at some level, failed him, it's understandable if he regrets any of the decisions he has taken. Remarkably, no is the answer. "I don't have any dreams or don't give any false promises. Till my last breath, I will continue this. I will die doing this job. All the politicians know of me, but no one comes forward. But I don't think about it. I was born for this and this is what I'll do till I die."
On Sunday night, the Birsa Munda Hockey Stadium hosted 21,800 people for India vs England. Just an hour's drive from the stadium, a 71-year-old quietly rages on, still producing players 22 years on.