The Ultimate barrier breaker
Chennai beaches quickly became Ground Zero for Ultimate Frisbee in India, drawing players from all walks of life.
Amid the open drains, stinging flies and makeshift roofs, an unlikely game is taking off among impoverished residents of India’s slums: Ultimate Frisbee. Chennai, a ramshackle coastal city known for its population of subsistence fishermen, has become India’s hub for the sport, with eight club teams and hundreds of players.
Over the past seven years, this sport — commonly played by coeds on the lawns of North American colleges — has spread across India, uniting Indians of disparate backgrounds and culminating in the creation of India’s first under-23 team.
Most sports in India have high cost barriers, but Ultimate has brought together men and women of different castes, wealth, background, religions and languages. Crowdfunding is enabling the team to fly to London for the world championships in mid-July.
The game got its start in Chennai thanks in part to Manu Karan, 35, the founder and president of Chennai Ultimate Frisbee, the biggest community of Ultimate players in India. (There are roughly 300 active players in the city, he says.)
Karan fell in love with the sport in Boulder, Colo., where he learned to play from local university students. He brought it back to Chennaiin 2007, when he returned to India to enrol in an MBA program.
The Chennai beaches quickly became a meeting ground for the sport. Because the game was cheap — players didn’t even need to own shoes — people from all walks of life began to join. Ranjani Shanker, 29, a musician, fell in love with Ultimate when a friend told her that to play, all she had to do was “show up.” The game’s hypnotic, balletic movements of the players drew the curiosity of slum kids and soon enough, some asked if they could join.
One of the young people drawn to the game was Ganesan, 21. From a family of beach cleaners and fishermen, Ganesan could not afford to play other sports, but picked up Ultimate when someone asked if he could step in during a beach tournament. Thanks to the U23 team, he got a passport, left the country for the first time, and flew to Dubai for the World Championships of Beach Ultimate. India placed 11th out of 16 teams. Karan, who in his non-frisbee hours heads business development in southern India for U.S. energy firm SunEdison, says the game helps build trust across India’s stark class divides.
Ultimate has also helped bridge gender gaps. The rules mandate that for every four men on a team, there must be at least three women. Amid the country’s notorious struggles with gender inequalities and sexual violence, the interactions on the playing field (or beach) force players to learn comfort and respect.
“Lots of these kids haven’t interacted with the opposite gender ever,” says Shanker, the musician. “They don’t talk, forget playing.”
Ganesan, for his part, has started coaching peers in the slum. Many are inspired by his success.
“My mother initially didn’t get the sport,” he recalls. “She asked me to quit. But before I left for Dubai, she said, ‘I want you to win.’ Now she understands why Frisbee is life for me.”