The microphones will miss Novy Kapadia’s vast knowledge and boyish enthusiasm

An amazing blessing for Indian sport in general and Indian football in particular, Novy Kapadia will be missed. In his passing on Thursday, after a prolonged battle with illness that confined him home and imposed a great deal of loneliness, India lost one of the most respected analysts of sport.

We knew his fight against Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), a motor neuron disease, was a losing battle. And yet, we willed him on to overcome odds. Until it became difficult for the 68-year-old to even nibble his favourite dish and swallow tiny morsels. That’s when the prayers changed towards the reduction – and, I dare say, early end – of his pain.

I had read about ALS in Mitch Albom’s amazing book, Tuesdays with Morrie and realised that the loss of control over muscles is a veritable death sentence. I was hoping that science would have found a way past ALS and fill the upper portion his hour glass with more particles of sand. Alas! It came off second best to the mysteries of the human body.

Novy Kapadia detested cliches. Else, it would have been easy to eulogise him with lines that resonate. Of him being an Encyclopaedia of Football. Or, perhaps, being a Football University. Of him being unassuming and genial. Of his being a caring human being. And, of him, being a voracious reader, fine writer, amazing analyst and a most loved commentator.

He was both enthusiastic seeker of knowledge and sharer of information at his disposal. You just have to leaf through his astounding book, Barefoot to Boots: The Many Lives of Indian Football, to experience his passion and intensity. The erudition and eloquence of a professor of literature is deliberately tucked away while the diligence of a researcher stands out.

He spent hours reading up my journalist father Mr. N Ganesan’s articles on Hyderabad footballers in the Sport & Pastime magazine and backed that up with hours of conversation with him in his Hyderabad home. I can say with pride that my parents loved having him over, my mother Mrs. Rajam Ganesan enjoying making him Dosas and coffee.

One amazing trait of Novy Kapadia that endeared him to youngsters has roots in his being a wonderful teacher and guide. He would direct a number of students who sought his help in researching sport and journalism in the right directions and towards others who shared his philosophy of sharing their experience with youngsters. Indeed, he touched lives. Magically.

Back in 2018, we last shared the stage in my city of birth, Hyderabad. The Ethics Sports Foundation’s Kailashnath Yadav hosted a celebratory evening, City of Heroes, to bring back some of the Twin Cities’ stalwarts from all disciplines back in the collective consciousness of the people at large. And Novy Kapadia was a livewire, drawing footballers like a magnet.

I cherished being on the same stage as my father for the first time, Novy Kapadia’s love for Hyderabad football lit up the banquet hall where the event was held. He was like a little kid gawking at players, no matter that these gents were well past their prime. The awe with which he heard T Balaram and others was a true reflection of his admiration and respect for them.

The converse was true as well. Each of the football stars living in Hyderabad had immense respect for Novy Kapadia’s passion and knowledge. There was no way you could figure out that he was not a Hyderabadi. He had this seamless ability to blend with the background and yet gleam like a beacon.

One of his greatest qualities was his ability to touch the hearts of all those who heard him. That entailed bringing together purity, passion and simplicity in sharing his vast knowledge.  That is the greatest evidence of how aware he was to be able to appeal to larger audiences and bring his favourite sport to the masses.

It is not as if I did not know the depth and width of Novy Kapadia’s knowledge earlier, having spent time with him in the press box at the Ambedkar Stadium when I was with The Pioneer and Hindustan Times newspapers between July 1992 and January 2000. But the symposium on Indian football in his alma mater, St. Stephen’s College, some years ago was a revelation.

I had the pleasure of being the other panelist. Or so I thought until Novy Kapadia listed out the reasons for Indian football’s decline in just a few minutes. He held the audience, passionate about football, in rapt attention as he laid bare the Indian scenario. There was no posturing or finger-pointing but a methodical dissection of the ills plaguing the sport in the country.

The power of his oration prevented everyone from seeing the creases form on my forehead. As he flowed like a river – gently at times and in torrents at other times – I struck off successive points on my carefully-prepared note sheet until I was left with nothing. Nobody noticed me toss the crumpled paper into the bin, thoughtfully provided by the college.

How I managed to not repeat what Novy Kapadia said is a story for another day but it was clear that he was invigorated and in top form when behind the microphone, be it at a venue hosting a sporting contest or the studios of All India Radio and TV channels or on a public platform like in St. Stephen’s College.

Earlier this year, when my friends Vijay Lokapally and Ghaus Mohammed visited him at his home, Novy Kapadia could not hold back and said: “I miss the microphone.” Truth is that it is more likely that the microphone – and all those who loved hearing Novy Kapadia describe a match, play-by-play, and bring it alive for them – will miss him a great deal more.

Feature Image of Novy Kapadia: kind courtesy Deepthi Indukuri