During my time in Sportsworld, I would take a news item and convert it into a satire or humorous take

News Item: Zico’s frustration apparently got the better of him 36 minutes into the second half of the game between his team, Kashima Antlers and Kawasaki Verdy in the J-league in Tokyo. This was when the referee awarded the latter team a penalty. As Verdy star Kazuyoshi Miura prepared to take the kick, Zico walked up and spat on the ball.

I AM Zico’s spit. I hit the headlines recently. During a league match, my boss sent me flying through the air. I thought that, as usual, I would land on the green turf. Imagine my surprise when I landed on my friend, Cosco the football.

He looked at me in a daze as I fell with a thud on his face.

“This is really bad manners,” Cosco said.

“I am very sorry, Cosco,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

“You had the whole field in front of you and yet, you had to fall on me,” Cosco said in that hurt tone. “And that too, at such an important moment as a penalty. You know that I have to concentrate very hard, so that I can swerve, depending on which way the boot hits me.”

“My boss is going a little crazy in the head. I can’t imagine how he could have done this to you. After all, it is only through you that Zico has earned a decent livelihood for over 20 years. You have served him well. Both of you have developed such a wonderful rapport. And from being a boy in a poverty-stricken family, he is now a millionaire. I could not believe it when he sent me flying at you. It's shocking, to say the least.”

“Times change,” Cosco said in a philosophical manner. “People change. Zico has changed. He is no longer the soccer player he used to be. I remember what dazzling skills he displayed in the 1980s, especially during the ’82 World Cup. Now, as he reaches his forties, his skills are deserting him. He seems to be injured most of the time.”

“Yes,” I replied. “The other day when my boss got injured yet again, I had a talk with the shins and the knees. And they said that they could no longer stand the pressure of top class football. They told me that they had been doing the job for about twenty-five years now. They just can’t take it any more. After every match, they are bone-tired. They want to stop playing altogether. But Zico insists on pushing himself. I guess, like most people, he is doing it for the money.”

“The craving for more money creates so many problems in life,” Cosco the football said. “In my career, I have seen so many top-class football careers ruined by money. When money comes in, luxury comes in. Women come in. Drugs come in. And then the player loses his hunger and passion for the game. As time goes on, he thinks less about his game and more about how to make greater amounts of money. He is willing to sell himself to the highest bidder. 

“The rule is: never play for money. Instead, one should play for excellence. Excellence should be the aim in life. And if money comes in, as payment for excellence, it should be accepted with grace. But the moment money becomes an end in itself, the player's game gets corrupted. And your boss Zico seems to be going the same way.”

I suddenly felt sad about what Cosco was saying. He had been a top class football for twenty years and had seen a lot of life. So what he said was the deep, unvarnished truth: I was struck into silence.

“Watch him get mad,” Cosco said, as the referee showed Zico the red card. My boss’ eyes became red, like the card and then he shouted at the referee, “You are a cheat. You want Kawasaki Verdy to win, by hook or by crook. I shall complain about you.”

I rolled down Cosco’s face and moved some distance away.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?” Cosco said.

“The penalty is about to be taken,” I shouted, over the din of the spectators in the stadium. “Kazuyoshi Miura has gone to the top of his eight-step run. Cosco, it’s time to get back to work.”

Cosco immediately closed his eyes and frowned in deep concentration. The Japanese player came up and struck Cosco cleanly. The football rose up in the air and when it seemed that it was about to sail over the bar, it suddenly dipped and went into the net. Goal! The game was played for another five minutes and then the referee blew the final whistle.

I slowly began to walk away from the turf. It was the end of another day. But as I reached the players’ tunnel, Cosco, who was sitting on the referee’s arm, shouted at me, “Hey Zico’s spit, despite everything, I forgive your boss. Give my regards to him. After all, both he and I go back a long way.”

(Published in Sportsworld, February 9, 1994)

Shevlin Sebastian's journey through journalism and storytelling

 

Photo by Ratheesh Sundaram. In a Bangalore bookstore 

Many thanks to the creativebrandsmag for this write-up:

https://creativebrandsmag.com/from-kolkata-to-global-recognition-shevlin-sebastians-journey-through-journalism-and-storytelling/

Intro: Veteran journalist and author Shevlin Sebastian, with over three decades of experience and 4,500 published articles, has become a finalist in the UK-based Global Soup international short story competition. His career spans leading Indian publications, acclaimed investigative scoops, children’s novels, and crime writing, marking him as a versatile storyteller.  

Shevlin Sebastian’s name has long been familiar in Indian journalism, but his recent recognition as a finalist in the UK-based Global Soup international short story competition has brought his literary talent into sharper focus. For a man who has spent more than three decades chronicling the lives, struggles, and triumphs of others, this accolade is a reminder that his own story is equally compelling.

Born and raised in Kolkata, Sebastian’s early years were steeped in the cultural vibrancy of the city. His professional journey began with Sportsworld, part of the Ananda Bazar Patrika Group, where he honed his skills in sports journalism.

From there, his career took him across India, with stints at The Week in Kochi, Hindustan Times in Mumbai, and The New Indian Express in Kochi. He also briefly worked with DC Books in Kottayam, gaining exposure to the publishing industry.

Each stop added layers to his understanding of storytelling, sharpening his ability to capture both the immediacy of news and the timelessness of human experience.

Over the years, Sebastian has published an astonishing 4,500 articles, covering a spectrum of subjects that defy easy categorisation. His writing has explored films, crime, humour, art, psychology, literature, politics, sports, and human interest stories. This breadth reflects not only his versatility but also his curiosity about the world.

His blog, Shevlin’s World, has become a repository of his work, attracting over 24 lakh hits—a testament to the resonance of his voice with readers across geographies.

Sebastian’s career has not been confined to the newsroom. He has ventured into fiction, publishing four novels for children, and his short stories have found homes in diverse literary platforms.

Singapore-based journals like Kitaab and Borderless Journal, Toronto’s Scarlet Review, Pune’s Active Muse, Guwahati’s Twist and Twain, and India’s juggernaut.in have all carried his work.

These publications reveal a writer unafraid to cross borders, both literal and literary, in pursuit of narrative expression.

His recognition in the Global Soup competition is particularly significant. It situates him within an international community of writers, affirming that his storytelling transcends cultural and national boundaries.

For Sebastian, whose journalism has often been rooted in Indian contexts, this achievement underscores the universality of his themes and the adaptability of his craft.

Yet, to view Sebastian solely through the lens of literary accomplishment would be to overlook his formidable impact as a journalist. Among his many stories, one stands out as a landmark in Indian sports journalism.

In 1992, he reported swimmer Loraine Varghese’s allegations of sexual harassment by coaches in national camps. This was the first time such claims had been publicly made in post-Independence India, and the report reverberated through the corridors of power, prompting questions in Parliament.

It was a scoop that not only demonstrated Sebastian’s investigative acumen but also his courage in amplifying voices that challenged entrenched systems.

His career has also taken him to the frontlines of global sporting events. From the Asian Games in Beijing to the Cricket World Cup in Johannesburg and the Olympic Games in Athens, Sebastian has witnessed and reported on moments of athletic triumph and heartbreak.

These experiences enriched his perspective, allowing him to weave narratives that combined the thrill of competition with the human stories behind the medals.

In recent years, Sebastian has turned his attention to long-form crime writing. His first true-crime book, 'The Stolen Necklace', published by HarperCollins in 2023, delved into a crime in North Kerala, blending journalistic rigour with narrative flair.

The book marked his entry into a genre that demands both meticulous research and compelling storytelling. He is currently working on his second crime book, further cementing his reputation as a writer capable of navigating the complexities of human behaviour and societal structures.

What makes Sebastian’s journey remarkable is not just the diversity of his output but the consistency of his commitment to storytelling. Whether through a newspaper article, a blog post, a children’s novel, or a crime book, he has sought to illuminate aspects of life that might otherwise remain in shadow. His work reflects a belief in the power of words to inform, challenge, and inspire.

The recognition from Global Soup is, in many ways, a culmination of this lifelong dedication. It acknowledges not only his skill as a writer but also his ability to connect with readers across cultures.

For Sebastian, who has spent much of his career documenting the achievements of others, the spotlight is now on him. It is a moment of validation, but also an invitation to continue exploring the possibilities of narrative.

As he completes his second crime book and continues to publish stories in international journals, Sebastian’s trajectory suggests that his best work may still lie ahead.

His career is a reminder that journalism and literature are not mutually exclusive but can enrich each other.

The precision of reporting can sharpen the imagination of fiction, while the empathy of storytelling can deepen the impact of journalism.

In an era where the lines between media, literature, and digital platforms are increasingly blurred, Sebastian embodies the adaptability required of contemporary writers.

His blog, with its millions of hits, demonstrates his ability to engage with digital audiences, while his print publications affirm his relevance in traditional formats.

His international recognition signals that his voice resonates beyond national boundaries, offering insights into the human condition that are universally relatable.

For readers, Sebastian’s journey offers inspiration. It shows that persistence, curiosity, and a willingness to explore diverse forms of writing can lead to both professional success and personal fulfilment.

For aspiring journalists and writers, his career is a case study in how to balance breadth with depth, versatility with focus.

Ultimately, Shevlin Sebastian’s story is one of dedication to craft. From the bustling newsrooms of Kolkata and Mumbai to the literary journals of Singapore and Toronto, from the stadiums of Beijing and Athens to the crime scenes of Kerala, he has pursued narratives with passion and precision.

His recognition as a finalist in the Global Soup competition is not just a personal milestone but a celebration of a career that has consistently sought to illuminate the world through words.

And as he continues to write—whether about crime, sport, or the intricacies of human relationships—one thing is certain: Shevlin Sebastian’s world will remain a place where stories matter, and where the act of storytelling is both a profession and a calling.