KABADDIKABADDIKABADDI!

By CALVIN TRILLIN

I can't help wondering if kabaddi's chances of being accepted as an Olympic sport are being damaged by the fact that it's so hard to believe. I don't mean that the feats some of its players manage seem unbelievable, in the way it seems unbelievable for Michael Jordan to make a home for himself several feet off the ground. I don't mean that, as might be said of riding a bicycle straight up a mountain, it's hard to believe that anybody would want to do such a thing, even for a gold medal and a cereal-endorsement contract. I mean that it's difficult to persuade people that the game of kabaddi actually exists. When it comes to making a presentation to the Olympic committee, that has to be a disadvantage.

I became aware of kabaddi's believability problem in 1994, when I mentioned in print that I had been in Japan during the Asian Games, which included a demonstration of an ancient sport from the Indian subcontinent called kabaddi. So what's so hard to believe about that? "Well, there are two seven-man teams, and a player from one team--he's called the raider--is sent into the opponents' half of the field," I later explained to my friend Charlie. "He tries to touch as many opposing players as possible, and they try not to be touched or to keep him from returning to his territory."

"So?" Charlie said. "So," I said. I paused. "Well," I continued. "So. Well, during this entire time, the raider has to keep saying kabaddikabaddikabaddikabaddi ..."

Charlie stared at me for a long time. Finally, he said, "Right. And that's Hindi for, 'I knew I should have gotten these shorts in an extra large.'" Then he started to cackle. After that conversation, his standard greeting to me became, "Kabaddikabaddikabaddi, and a very Happy New Year."

Actually, the word kabaddi is derived from a Hindi word that means "holding breath"--the point of the chant being that the raider has to accomplish his mission in one breath. I learned that only last month from an article by an English writer named John Hargreaves in Hemispheres, the United Airlines magazine. Although the word kabaddi is used for the chant in most of the world, Hargreaves wrote, "in Nepal this is 'Do-Do,' in Sri Lanka 'Guddo,' in Malaysia 'Chaddo-Guddo,' and in Indonesia 'Techib.'" Imagine appearing before the Olympic committee to argue acceptance for a game in which players constantly say "do-do."

According to Hargreaves, kabaddi was played as a demonstration sport at the 1936 Olympics, and kabaddi adherents, who now extend to England and Canada, hope "it will be seen at the Olympics again before too long." Before too long! The 1936 games were 60 years ago. Have Olympic officials really been mulling this over for more than a half-century?

I think not. I don't think that any committee member has ever considered the fact that the Olympic spectacle includes little of the human voice beyond an occasional grunt by a weight lifter. I don't think that anyone has speculated on the multicultural impact of allowing one team to say "chaddo-guddo" while the other says "techib." No, I think kabaddi was simply not believed.

I can imagine those old poops on the Olympic committee watching the demonstration in 1936. "How droll," the English representative says.

"Yes, indeed," the Belgian says. "Kabaddikabaddikabaddi."

"You're quite welcome, I'm sure," the Englishman says, and they turn to a consideration of mountain biking.