A victor anyway: Why silver does not define Vinesh Phogat

Guest Column: Srinath Sridharan writes how Vinesh Phogat has fought enough obstacles to get to this global stage, be it domestic sporting politics to injury and surgery

by Team PITCH
Published - August 12, 2024
6 minutes To Read
A victor anyway: Why silver does not define Vinesh Phogat

In the known records of sports history, few moments are as devastating as a disqualification in the Olympic finals—a crushing blow that can shatter dreams in an instant. Indian wrestler Vinesh Phogat recently faced such a fate, her hopes for a medal dashed by a disqualification that has left many in disbelief. In the aftermath, Phogat appealed to the Court of Arbitration for Sport, seeking the silver medal she was so close to securing, if not the Gold medal she could have actually won. But in doing so, she risks something far more valuable than any piece of hardware: her legacy as a role model and playing by the book.

The Olympics have always been more than a contest of athleticism; they are a stage where the ideals of fair play, honour, and sportsmanship take center stage. The Olympics remain a pinnacle of global sporting events because they symbolise more than just athletic competition; they embody the universal ideals of unity, excellence, and perseverance. As the world’s largest and most diverse sporting gathering, the Games bring together athletes from every corner of the globe, showcasing not only their physical prowess but also their cultural backgrounds and personal stories.

It is in these moments of trial that true champions emerge—not just those who triumph over their opponents, but those who honour the spirit of the Games, even when the rules seem harsh or unfair. Phogat, who has inspired millions with her grit and determination, has fought enough obstacles to get to this global stage, be it domestic sporting politics to injury and surgery. She has tackled larger themes such as fighting against poor toxic leadership and advocating for better conditions in Indian wrestling, reflecting her commitment to the sport's integrity and progress. What makes her a true role model is not only her athletic accomplishments but also her courage to confront challenges, despite not much support from the influentials and the elites.

Her current legal battle to dispute the Olympic disqualification by arguing that the weight rule breach was only by 100 grams is at odds with ethos of the Olympics. The same set of rules apply to every participant in that sport, and they have the same physiological challenges. Thus, it is disheartening to see this legal contest, which undermines these very values. The sports administrators and support team that has gone with the Indian sportspersons did not even act quickly to file any petition with CAS for seeking to delay her final match, when they could have cited the fact that she had fought three bouts in a single day, all successfully. Of course this legal battle is fought by her in her personal capacity, and it is not the Indian delegation that has challenged the Olympic decision.

While this legal battle does appeal to our nationalist pride of fighting for our daughter’s rightful victory, but it sends a wrong signal. Would we have filed this legal appeal, if in the weigh-in, she had not been disqualified, and she had lost that match?

The temptation to fight for the silver medal, an Olympic medal, is understandable. After all, it symbolises years of relentless training, sacrifice, and the hopes of an entire nation. But a victory secured in a courtroom, rather than on the mat, would forever be tinged with controversy. The question would linger: Did she truly earn it? Or did she simply outmanoeuvre the system, legally?

Some battles are not worth winning if it means compromising your principles, or fighting for it after we lost. She would be reminding us that the true essence of the Olympics is not just in the medals won, but in the honour with which the athletes compete. Even if she does win this Silver, it won’t be the memorable one, for this very reason.

Even those Indian non-wrestling sporting stars who did not support her during her protests about Wrestling Federation of India’s leadership, have now joined in her support for the medal. The sporting fraternity, especially Vinesh’s global peers, has rallied around her in a remarkable show of respect. The Greeks have urged the world body to limit weigh-ins to a single day, Nigerians have suggested a 2-kg exemption, and Americans have proposed sweeping rule changes. But then, these rules, in fairness, should not be applied retrospective, just for our medal victory. Earlier in the week, she had stunned the wrestling world by delivering one of the biggest upsets of the Paris Olympics, defeating Japan’s Yui Susaki in the 50 kg category.

In the end, the silver medal is just that—a medal. It can be displayed, celebrated, and admired. But it can never replace the respect and admiration earned through a lifetime of integrity. Phogat’s legacy will not be defined by the number of medals she has won, but by the example she sets for others to follow. We see only the medals won or lost, but we often overlook the 15-20 years of dedication and the sacrifices made by both the athlete and their family, all in pursuit of a dream with no guarantee of success.

While she has announced retirement, one hopes she nurtures her health back, has a life of her calling. Surely, in the next few weeks, there could be political overtures and that might define her potential career ahead. Phogat’s story has the power to inspire a generation of young athletes in India and beyond. It is a story of perseverance, of breaking through societal constraints, and of standing tall in the face of adversity. Whether the CAS gives her a Silver medal or not, some victories are worth more than silver. They are worth your soul.

This is what I would want to tell her: 'True victory lies not in the medals we collect. By choosing honour over triumph, you show the world that the true measure of success is not just in what you achieve, but in how you uphold the values that define you. True strength lies not in external validation but in the quiet confidence of knowing you’ve given your all. We know you have given your best, and more. Even in this medal-loss, you are showing the world the greatest victory of all—one of character and resilience. You are our Gold.’

The writer is an independent markets commentator. Media columnist. Board member. Corporate & Startup Advisor/Mentor. CEO coach.

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication.

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