Meet Prashant Singh, Indian rugby's ‘Superman, Spiderman, Krish'

Indian Express

6 hours ago

'Itnaa badaa andaa!'
Like a dragon-egg. So big.
The first sighting of a game of rugby at the Oval Maidaan, even if it's just 200 metres away from Mumbai's snobbish yet nurturing Bombay Gymkhana ruggers' paddock fenced on three sides, can evoke a hugely astonished response. Prashant Singh, back when he first watched elder brother Sushant play rugby, was still only a cricketer, who had seen nothing like that rucking, mauling, tackling and crucially, freely-running sport before. But he topped races and relays at his Guru Nanak school in Colaba's Navy Nagar. After his first hour spent running with that oblong, looking for excuses to play rugby, became an addiction.
This last week, Prashant picked his first Man of the Match award for Bengaluru Bravehearts in the inaugural Rugby Premier League, albeit for his defensive rigour. He has 11 tackles for a city franchise that he was very happy to be picked for, as it was the same city as his favourite IPL side. It helped that he got to play alongside some fairly well known international names on the 7s circuit, Philip Wokorach, Pol Pla, Liam Poulton and Iowane Teba.
But just a few years ago – he had been bogged down by a slew of other jobs that brought in some money, but were creatively never as liberating as running carefree with the 'andaa ball' (egg-ball). A fitness freak, Prashant earned money as a gym instructor, was a food delivery agent and feeling greatly stuck, was a salesman for banking products.
Covid had wreaked havoc with his rugby, and his family's well-being. His father used to run a reasonably lucrative newspaper vendor service at Colaba, but the pandemic destroyed that business, and he had to settle for a job as a security supervisor in Navy Nagar. It's when the financial crunch got to the family, and his older brother, who loved rugby equally, quit the sport and took on financial responsibility of the home with two sisters, two brothers and parents.
But even at school, the parents had insisted on academics, to help find a secure job and stable salary. 'The sports craze was always there. I mostly played cricket, but after running with the rugby ball, I couldn't stop playing the sport. Problem was we were a very middle class family. My parents said there is no scope in sports. They bitterly opposed cricket, and rugby they didn't even know. I used to fight routinely just to be allowed to play,' he recalls.
Eventually after Class 10, he quit for a few years, leaving the Rhino Club run by former international Pritam Roy. But you can't live in South Bombay's nooks and crannies and not get pulled back into sport, rugby or cricket, with Oval and Cross maidaan closeby, watching them on every commute if you have once experienced how much fun they are. For Prashant, it was his former rivals from Magicians who invited him to restart. 'We used to be cross (rivals) earlier, but they said get a sports certificate and then that might help with a government job,' he laughs.
Laughs, because a job, any job, was a painful, ponderous bind for Prashant, that he reckoned conspired to keep him away from rugby. 'I became a delivery agent because I could work on my own terms. At the bank job, they wouldn't allow me to go train or give me leave for rugby. I became a fitness master (instructor certification), and knew I had that option,' he recalls. But the rugby itch was too much.
After playing for Magicians, run by the Sheikh brothers and Vijay Dange, Prashant, a hybrid player in 7s and a utility flanker (what he calls 'fast forward') in XVs got picked for Maharashtra 15s. With India's whimsical National Games scheduling, three editions happened in three years. And finishing silver medallists meant he earned cash prize of Rs 5 lakh each time.
His family, still disdainful rugby, thought he was joking. 'They were convinced it was a lie till they saw the amount credited into my account. That day was very emotional,' he says. 'Till there is no respect, there is really no value of sport. Supporting family financially is the biggest pressure and greatest joy,' he says, recalling the relief he felt in putting food and remt money on the table. It eased his mind to enjoy the adrenaline that comes with scoring a try. 'But rugby is similar. The pressure when you run with the ball before scoring a try is enormous. If I score, the happiness that me, my team and screaming crowd feel – there's no feeling like that in the world.'
Prashant is deservingly proud of his score in modern rugby's 'who's better?' Metric – the Bronco time. It's like cricket's yo-yo score, but obviously considerably higher in intensity given how much ruggers run. It consists of 5 sets of back to back shuttle runs over 20 metres, 40 metres and 60 metres. Gloucester's Seb Atkinson, an English Rugby Union player holds the world record of 4 minutes 8 seconds. Prashant claims he might be India's best with 4 minutes, 38 seconds.
A former batsman in cricket, he took greater pride in fielding. 'Fielding was my best skill in cricket. But rugby is much tougher,' he says.
He grew up with the nickname Shiv, which is what his teammates call him and is emblazoned on his jersey too. At his club, with the Bravehearts currently third, behind Hyderabad and Chennai, he looks up to Akuila Rokolisoa, but has picked a bunch of nicknames for his athleticism and flying runs. 'Superman, Spiderman and Krish,' he enumerates.