How technology played a part in India scripting triple jump history

Separated by visa issues, coach, athletes turned to WhatsApp; came home with gold & silver

The first reaction was disappointment. Trepidation, confusion, anger, frantic solution mongering followed soon after. Leading up to the World Championships in Oregon in July, coach Hari Krishnan had seen two of his wards, triple jump athletes Eldhose Paul and Abdulla Aboobacker, regularly set new personal bests at domestic competitions through the season. Aboobacker had jumped 17.19m in May, the highest mark achieved by any of them this season. Paul, who had regularly crossed 17m (“the minimum required at the international level,” Krishnan says), was another contender to make it to the finals of the event in the US.

And then, disaster struck. Krishnan faced visa issues and was eventually unable to travel to Oregon (and later Birmingham) to be with his pupils for their events. They’d be at it alone. 

“It was a bit of a setback for us because we were in a new place, adjusting to new conditions, time zones, and the difference meant we couldn’t coordinate perfectly with our coach all the time,” Aboobacker says. He and Paul would train together, according to a schedule designed by Krishnan. They would record their jumps and send the videos via WhatsApp to the coach. The time difference meant they would get reviews and suggestions a bit later, but, in principle, a solution had been found. Modern technology was a saving grace.

On the day of the event though, things fell apart. Long jumper Mohammed Anees was at the stadium watching his compatriots take part and would call Krishnan to give him updates on what was happening. The lack of a live feed, as well as bad Wi-Fi meant Krishnan was unable to give his inputs immediately to his wards. Aboobacker suffered the most, not even jumping 16.50m and missing the final. Paul’s effort of 16.68m got him into the final as the last of 12 competitors. It was as good as it got. 

“When I was on call asking for updates, they kept saying that Abdulla was slow,” Krishnan says. “Slow where exactly though? Was it in the beginning, in between the run-up, or before the jump? I wanted answers as I couldn't watch the event live."

The team brushed off the result as an anomaly. It was the first time the duo had been competing outside the country, and Krishna knew that an additional set of challenges had caused the upsetting results. The focus shifted to Birmingham. 

“This time we were better prepared,” Aboobacker says. Between him and Paul, they figured out a training routine where they would regularly send Krishnan updates via WhatsApp, even get him on video call during their sessions and work on small technique fixes per his suggestions. “I realised that Abdulla was slow because in the run up, his hands were spraying out a bit too wide.” Small technique fixes were initiated, and the results arrived soon after.

Barely two weeks after the nightmare of Oregon, redemption arrived in the sweetest way possible – Paul and Aboobacker claiming gold and silver, respectively, in triple jump at the Commonwealth Games. It was the first Indian 1-2 at an athletics event at the Games in history. What made their performance unique, though, was that both had become the first Indians to cross 17m in a quadrennial event since national record holder Renjith Maheshwary at CWG 2010. And again, Krishnan was there, in pixel if not in person, courtesy of Anees’ phone, commitment and WhatsApp, of course.  

Field events in athletics are among the few where coaching is not just allowed throughout the period of a competition but is often crucial to performance. Coaches are often seated in the stands, watching carefully as their pupils execute uncommon movements to produce different results. In between jumps and throws, athletes come over to the stands, talk to the coach, who sometimes offer technical advice, but mostly are there to give them small post-it style mental boosters. 

Robert Bobby George, the husband of legendary long jumper Anju Bobby George, and a jumps coach at Sports Authority of India Bengaluru, is a firm believer in the merits of in-person coaching during competition.

George is the coach of Shaili Singh, one of India’s most exciting prospects in the women’s long jump since Anju herself. Even at the National Championships, or the Khelo India University Games, George seats himself in eyeline with the jump mark and constantly barks instructions as he sees them between efforts.

Krishnan differs a bit in the manner of instruction. “At that time technical tweaks aren’t always possible,” he says. “Tactics, some basic error correction is all you can do.”

“At events like the World Championships, from the word go, you have to put in your best effort,” Aboobacker says. “At that level of competition, you’re basically pushing to make the finals, make it to the top eight or 12, so you get in the next day.” 

At the Commonwealth Games, on the other hand, the aims were different. In the stands. Anees got on call with Krishnan, who was available if his wards needed instruction or advice. He was watching it live on TV anyway. Krishnan had asked the duo to tone down their first jump to a ‘safe jump’, and ensure they registered a mark and relieved themselves of the pressure. While Aboobacker pulled out a 16.57m in his first, Paul played it a bit too safe, not even crossing the 15m mark at the first time of asking. And from there, everything kicked on.

Paul has been working with Krishnan for roughly two years now, and understands the teamwork necessary in this gruelling self-actualised form of individual sport. “We’re always trying to improve personal bests, but actually we can do it only if there are others pushing us to do so,” he says. “Hari sir understands that and likes to deal with us all separately. What makes him different is that he doesn't have a one-size-fits-all training method as he understands us all individually."

With his third jump in Birmingham (17.03m), Paul soared into the lead. Aboobacker, in sharp contrast, was in fourth after his fourth jump, just missing out on a medal, and the prospect of avenging the Oregon debacle. His technique was perfect, his run up, too. Paul was pushing him in a way that was necessary and inspiring, but there was something missing. And it was then that he remembered the simple unconventional advice Krishnan had given him on call before the event.  

“Jump like madmen, I’d said,” Krishnan says. “Forget about everything and just jump like mad.”

Aboobacker did. His fifth jump was recorded at 17.02m, a centimetre lesser than his compatriot, but enough for silver, and history.