Asian teams put up a fight at World Cup, but what ails Indian football?

For the first time, five Asian nations were represented at the World Cup Finals. But only Japan spared the continent’s blushes by retaining a toehold in the knockout stages, scraping past Senegal courtesy a fair play regulation (two fewer yellow cards than the doughty west African side).

Still, Asia’s sparse presence in the Round of 16 should not discourage fans: the teams acquitted themselves creditably and mostly produced some watchable football. True, South Korea’s early exit was a setback when set against the achievements of 2002 (quarter-finals) and 2010 (Round of 16). And its 2-0 shock defeat of Germany had more to do with the defending champion’s weaknesses than the Red Devils’ skills.

So, the South Korean ambassador in Mexico may have celebrated with undiplomatic glee but exacting fans were not fooled. They protested with Oriental vehemence, hurling toffees at the team (seriously, watch it here) when it returned.

Talk about expectations, nothing could have contrasted more than the ecstatic welcome for Iran’s lions, with 5,000 fans showing up to fete Team Melli at Tehran airport. Even though it won one match from an own goal, it finished third in the group, yielding a meagre 0-1 victory to former champions Spain and holding current European champions Portugal to a 1-1 draw in performances that certainly demanded respect.

All five Asian teams in Russia have qualified for multiple World Cup Finals -- Saudi Arabia four times, Iran five times, South Korea ten times, Japan six times and Australia four times. Other Asian teams that made the cut at some time or the other: Iraq, China, Israel (which has since defected to the European football association) and North Korea (before it became an international pariah).

Which raises afresh the obvious Big Question: when will India make it to world sport’s greatest stage?

There’s the heroic myth about how the Indian team withdrew from the 1950 edition – for lack of funds for the passage or because they could not afford boots and FIFA would not allow them to play barefoot, take your pick of sob story. This info is randomly available on the web, but not FIFA’s site, and when asked during a visit to India about a decade ago then-president Sepp Blatter said he knew nothing about it. There is much heartburn at our 97 rank and the fact that we lose to teams like Guam, Oman and Turkmenistan. Our chaps are undersized and eat the wrong kind of food, goes the common verdict.

In my humble opinion, Indian football’s problems are not physiological but institutional. For years, the country’s football administration suffered from highly politicised neglect (it appeared to be dominated by excitable and combative Bengalis from East Bengal, Mohun Bagan and Mohammedan Sporting reliving past local glories). We had no professional footballers or any kind of proper bandobust – just talented lads of modest means precariously dependent on seasonal funding from the occasional maverick business house. There was even a time when Vijay Mallya's companies bankrolled both the Big Two, East Bengal and Mohun Bagan. When TV started beaming World Cup and the premier European tournaments into our living rooms, the sorry state of Indian football was exposed.

Finally, the penny dropped: exposure to global standards is vital for an all-round upgrade. The solution, though, has been sub-par. The super-glamorous Indian Super League (ISL), jointly promoted by Reliance, IMG and Star Sports, with South American and European stars and coaches, all past their sell-by date, teams owned by film stars and sundry glitterati and modelled on the Indian Premier League, was supposed to transform the face of Indian football. Though the tournament draws sizeable crowds, the jury’s still out on its transformational impact for multiple reasons.

For one, like Major League Soccer in the US and the Australian soccer league, ISL is a standalone tournament without any promotion or relegation. Although this format may work for those richer nations with established sporting cultures, it is unlikely to work for India. The fact that the tournament operates outside the mainstream footballing eco-system means it has limited impact.

The problem is this: although ISL had the Indian FA’s approval and some sort of blessing from FIFA, it was not recognised by the Asian footballing confederation until recently. But that recognition, preceded by much controversy, is a conditional one. The valiant little clubs of the underfunded and distinctly unglamorous I-League remain the premier, recognised tournament that can compete for the prestigious Asian Champions League, in which Asia’s best teams compete. As some sort of compromise, the billionaire clubs of the ISL have been allowed to compete in the second-string tournament: the AFC Cup.

The upshot is that we have the weird situation of two parallel national tournaments competing for talent, and one of them trumps the other by sheer money power. Understandably but no less bizarre, it’s the second-rung one in which footballers want to play. This keeps them from competing in Asia’s top tier. This is hardly a healthy situation, even if you get to see Indians playing alongside day-before-yesterday’s stars wanting for pace and under coaches who can’t find berths in mainstream footballing nations.

Bar Australia, all the other four countries that were represented in Russia have incentivised promotion-and-relegation leagues, and it is no surprise that Japan and South Korea’s footballing eco-systems have thrown up players who star in top teams in Europe. (Iran and Saudi Arabian players stay away for political reasons, but their clubs are major performers in the Asian championships.) Our players don't make it to even the B teams of major European and South American clubs.

All the same, India's break into the top 100 marks a huge improvement from the nadir of 171 in 2014 despite this chaotic organisation. Who knows: when the World Cup expands to 48 teams in 2022, India might squeak through.