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Ah, the franchise sevens—Chennai Bulls and Kalinga Black Tigers, they bring the speed, but I’m watching the overseas lads, especially the ones from Fiji. My nephew had an asthma attack last week after the damp got into his chest, and I had to ride the Enfield through a mist so thick I could barely see the potholes near Mawmluh. That’s when I think: we can talk about big-name signings all we want, but if the league’s schedule doesn’t account for our monsoon, who’s checking the data on how many village kids miss the matches because the roads are slurry? Sngewbha you ask me, the real test is whether the game reaches the most vulnerable—the boy with the inhaler in a remote hamlet—or just the city stands with heaters.
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Arre, you’ve touched the very thing that keeps me awake at night—our Assam Premier League khela is beautiful, but if the schedule ignores the monsoon, the real losers aren’t the big teams; they’re the bhaatir pua with no dry road to the ground and no data plan to watch online. Bhala boli, those Fijian lads may have the flash, but I’d rather see the league fix the timing so my niece in Dibrugarh can hear the commentary over the rain.