The Duniya of Mohun Bagan
A Mohun Bagan Legend- Subrata Bhattacharya (Babloo) By Dr Rajshankar Ghosh He was tall. He was stout. He was tough. He was a tower. He was everything that made us weep in joy and in sorrow. He was Number 16. The Mohun Bagan Team of 1970-1980s had many luminaries. We adored them. Him, Subrata, we loved. We called him Babloo, lovingly. Drenched in rain, drenched in sweat, we were there every match, every day, to cheer for our Mohun Bagan, to witness the magic of Subrata on the field. He attracted us as a light would attract the moth. When the ball would come flying high, he would rise above all to steer the ball away. When the ball would come rolling speedily on the ground, he would lie flat in the pool of mud to block the ball. Whatever happened, we knew Subrata was there for us in moments of crisis. We broke and made friendships for him. We dreamt of him. We prayed for him. He was with us in every sphere of our life then. It was one summer afternoon in 1979 -1980. I was a student of class IX-X. We were streaming out of our class room when I noticed the mini crowd in front of the notice board. I made my way through the crowd. For a few seconds I stared and then oblivious of the surrounding I shouted “Joy Guru” at the top of my voice. My friends who knew me well were not surprised. Behind the glass frame was a hand written notice “The Rathayatra Football Tournament Final will be held on XXX date. Mr. Subrata Bhattacharya will be the chief guest and will grace the prize ceremony”. I could not believe my eyes. I thanked almost half of the 33 crores God most of whose names I did not know. The final was just a week away. The D-Day came in a whiff. Our Class IX English medium had reached the finals and would play Class IX Bengali Medium. Unfortunately I was not a member of the team. But I was the main cheer leader for our team and so had a special role to ensure victory of our team. Sunday afternoon. I was ready to set off for the field. There had been a few rough incidents amongst the English and Bengali medium supporters at Lunch hour. So we were charged up anyway. My hostel warden, Sarat Da, who knew me in and out, called me in his room. He knew that I was a diehard fan of Subrata. Accordingly he warned me to keep myself restrained and not act like one of those “Kolkata‟s hooligan fans”. I reached the field and took a position close to the pandal that had been set up for the games ceremony. Page - 5 - of 25