Photo Credit: @IndiaHistorypic on X

By Aslam Sher Khan
I still remember it as if it happened just yesterday. Just before our semifinal with hosts Malaysia, our team physician Dr Rajendra Kalra called me to his room. I was ushered in and introduced to a palmist. I don’t know from where Dr Kalra managed to get in one, but I was so desperate to get into the action that I didn’t even bother enquiring.
I had been in the Indian team for a long time now, yet I was still to get a chance to play at the World Cup. Each night I would sleep with the conviction that my time will come. Deep down I had this feeling that this is going to be my tournament. Our manager Balbir Singh senior could understand my restlessness. He too was keen to see me play.
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The palmist took my hand, peered into it, then looked at me: “This tournament will make you somebody from a nobody. You will get five minutes, which will change your life.” I simply nodded.
The next day, we trailed Malaysia 2-1 with just four minutes to go. We had 17 penalty corners but had failed to convert even one. Looking down the barrel, we prayed for an equaliser, when Michael Kindo was substituted. Balbir Singh called me and put his hand on my cheeks, and told me, “Son, you go and save India.” His eyes were moist.

(Photo Credit: Hockey India video grab)
We soon won a penalty corner again. The whole team came running to me. It was then I realised the enormity of the occasion, and the shortage of time. The players were all looking to me, of course, an entire nation too. Everyone was silently praying. I can’t describe the pressure. We would have been out. I had no option but to score. There was very little room for error. Even the slightest mistake would have the umpires reject the penalty corner — we were playing the hosts.
BP Govinda made a perfect push and our captain, Ajitpal Singh, stopped the ball cleanly for me to take the shot. Do I remember hitting it? Yes, I do now, then I just followed my instinct and my training. The shot caught the goalkeeper on his wrong foot, and it crashed into the board. There was a stunned silence in the crowd. I knew I had broken the hearts of thousands of Malaysian fans. But at the same time, had given a great moment of joy to 65-crore people back home.
It all sunk in as soon as the match ended. Hundreds of the Indian diaspora, who had been prevented from waving the Tricolour in the stands, thronged the dressing room waving their flags. The rush was so maddening that the local police had to resort to ‘lathi-charge’ to control the crowd. That goal made me — and my team, India — play the final and the rest, we know, is history.

The reception that awaited us in India was perhaps unprecedented. Wherever we went, there was sea of people, crowds and crowds just waiting to see us and shower their love on us. The who’s who of India wanted to share the dais with us. We had won Olympic gold medals in hockey after Independence, but in the 1970s, as a growing nation, the people wanted to see a rising India on the world stage. It was huge recognition for the country.
Pakistan were then at the top of their game and beating them in the final was the icing on the cake. It is difficult to describe in words, the mood of the nation at that time. It was a strange emotion that has stayed all these years.
I would like to mention two memories.
When we were touring Punjab, people would shout, “Sheron ka sher, Aslam Sher!” It was inspiring as it was humbling. Then in Bhopal, the crowd lifted an open jeep with their hands and brought it to the railway platform so that I could ride it immediately after getting out of the train. The recognition that followed the World Cup exceeded way beyond my expectations.
I still get goosebumps thinking about those moments.
The Hindi film industry was taken in by our victory. We had heard that Raj Kapoor was planning a film with India-Pakistan as background. He approached me to be the hero. Decades later, perhaps, there was Henna, the first movie from his studios after his death, that reminded me of his original idea. Manoj Kumar wanted to sign me for five years with Rs 25,000 per month, huge money in those days, but I politely turned them down saying that I only wanted to continue playing hockey for India.
In Malaysia, moments after our triumph, their king asked me to settle down there with all my needs taken care of. A few years later during a visit to the United States, I was asked to coach their women’s team for the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. That contract included a green card and permanent residency of the US. In a short span, life offered me everything. What else can you ask for?
But I did the right thing; I chose my country. But every peak has its downsides too.
Within months of our triumph, the world hockey body decided to replace grass with astroturf. How else would the Europeans beat India and Pakistan, but to change the game’s grammar. We were so dominant on grass that the Europeans thought that is the best way. So, in a way, with the 1975 World Cup, we were the last ones of the golden generation – a lineage that started in the 1920s and continued for so many decades and threw up such legends.
(Aslam Sher Khan scored India’s equaliser in the semifinals of the 1975 World Cup, and India won 3-2 in extra time. They beat Pakistan 2-1 in the final for their only World Cup title till date. Bhopal-based Aslam, now 71, later became an MP from Betul. He spoke to Biswajyoti Brahma.)