In October 2017, when I was 16, I walked into Salt Lake Stadium believing I was getting a glimpse of Indian football’s future. The stadium had been transformed for the FIFA Under-17 World Cup, the stands were buzzing, and I was watching Brazil, England and Spain play on a stage that seemed a world away from the football infrastructure I had grown up seeing in India.
Almost nine years later, I returned to the same ground, this time carrying a laptop and a journalist’s notebook.
The excitement of watching world-class football in my hometown was still there, but so did a question I had not thought of asking as a teenager. What happens after the big teams leave?
October 28, 2017, remains a special day in my football memories. Brazil beat Mali 2-0 in the third-place play-off before England came from two goals down to defeat Spain 5-2 in the FIFA Under-17 World Cup final. More than 66,000 fans packed Salt Lake Stadium, bringing the curtain down on a tournament that drew over 1.34 million spectators across six Indian venues.
I was 16, football-mad and watching my first international tournament of that scale. Brazil, England and Spain were right there in front of me, and Salt Lake Stadium looked magnificent. For a teenager who had grown up loving the game, it was the sort of day that made you dream big.
Yet the football was only part of what stayed with me. Salt Lake Stadium had undergone a remarkable transformation for the tournament. The individual bucket seats, natural-grass pitch and upgraded facilities gave the venue a finish that made it feel at home on the global stage. I remember looking around and thinking that this was how our football stadiums could look when infrastructure received the attention and investment it needed.
As I grew older, the excitement around the Under-17 World Cup faded, and Indian football’s old problems came back into focus. Stadium upkeep, a struggling domestic structure and the familiar inability to turn big moments into lasting progress. Salt Lake continued to host major matches, but ahead of India’s friendlies against Brazil and Uruguay in October 2026, the pitch needed extensive restoration. It made me wonder how much of that 2017 transformation had really lasted. Getting a stadium ready for a big tournament is one thing. Keeping it in shape once the circus leaves is another.
THE BIG NAMES RETURNED, BUT WHAT REMAINED?
If we judge the three friendlies by results alone, India’s record makes for grim reading. A 1-1 draw against Panama in Bengaluru was followed by a 4-0 defeat to Brazil and a 6-1 thrashing by Uruguay in Kolkata. Ryan Williams scored against Panama, while Anirudh Thapa’s equaliser against Uruguay offered a brief moment of joy. But the two heavy defeats were a reminder of just how far India still have to go.
Results matter. They always will. Supporters want to see their team compete, and India cannot expect people to keep turning up if performances do not give them something to believe in. But should we really reduce the entire story of Indian football to what happens over 90 minutes? Doing so risks putting the burden on the 11 players wearing the India jersey, while ignoring everything that shapes their chances of succeeding in the first place.
There was plenty of excitement around the visiting teams. Brazil drew an official attendance of 51,402 at Salt Lake Stadium, while 37,307 spectators watched Uruguay. Those are sizeable crowds, but the empty seats were hard to miss in a city where football is woven into everyday life. And that brings us to a question beyond the scoreline. If Kolkata loves football so much, why was it so difficult to get more people through the gates?
Outside the stadium, I spoke to a fan who wanted to watch the matches but could not afford the tickets. For many supporters, seeing Brazil or Uruguay in person was a rare opportunity. The desire was there, but the price put the experience out of reach.
“If only these ticket prices were a little lower, people like us could have afforded them too. Nevertheless, we’re going to show our support in our own way. Even if we cannot go to the stadium, we will watch the match at home and experience it in our own way.”
It was hard to argue with that. An empty seat does not necessarily mean an empty heart, and a supporter who cannot afford a ticket is no less passionate than someone watching from the stands. If Indian football wants people to invest in the national team, it also has to make sure they have a fair chance to be part of the occasion.
THE MEDIA BOXES TOLD A STORY TOO
There was another change I noticed, one that would probably have gone unnoticed by most people in the stands. Salt Lake Stadium has three media boxes, and I have spent enough time covering the Durand Cup there to know how quiet they can be. When the tournament returned to Kolkata in 2022 after the Covid-19 disruption, the media tribunes often looked sparsely occupied. Filling even two of the three boxes could be a struggle.
The Brazil and Uruguay friendlies were a different experience altogether. This time, finding a seat where I could settle down and open my laptop was a struggle. All three media boxes were packed with journalists from India and abroad, drawn by the scale of the occasion and the names on the teamsheets. The pre-match training sessions attracted close to 300 media personnel to the stadium, creating a level of activity that was striking even before the matches began.
The scene at pitchside was something else. Camera crews lined up behind the advertising boards to record their pieces to camera, while Brazilian and other foreign journalists filmed the gathering themselves, seemingly struck by the sheer number of people covering the sessions. It was a spectacle in its own right. For a young journalist covering football in India, being part of that environment was exciting.
But that was also what made me wonder how long it would last. Would the media boxes be just as busy for the next Indian Super League match which is not a Kolkata Derby? or would the cameras return only when another big international name came to town? The interest was clearly there, as was the infrastructure to accommodate it.
THE PASSION WAS NEVER THE PROBLEM
Empty seats at an international friendly are easy to read as a sign of dwindling interest. In Kolkata, that would be missing the bigger picture.
Two days after the Uruguay friendly, Salt Lake Stadium hosted the IFA Shield final between East Bengal and Mohun Bagan Super Giant. It was a reminder that Kolkata’s football culture was alive and well, even if the international friendlies had left plenty of empty seats. So, was the problem really a lack of passion, or was something else at play?
An East Bengal supporter was quick to push back against the suggestion that India lacked a football culture.
“The football madness in Kolkata has always been there, and it is still there. Maybe it looks different from what he has seen elsewhere, but that doesn’t mean the culture doesn’t exist. Let the genuine fans come to the stadium. They will fill the stands, they will cheer, they will scream. And when the match is over, they will go back home, only to come back and do it all over again. This has been happening for 100 years. And I hope that even 100 years from now, it will continue.”
But a century of football passion does not automatically make every event a success. Another East Bengal supporter felt the organisers had got the planning wrong, with the two high-profile friendlies scheduled too close together.
“For me, the biggest reason was poor planning. You cannot organise two such big matches one after the other, so close together, and expect everything to fall into place. The federation spent so much money bringing these teams here . . . Many core supporters decided to boycott the matches because they were unhappy with how everything had been arranged,”
For another supporter, the more immediate barrier was the price of admission. A Mohun Bagan fan felt the empty seats said little about the city’s appetite for football when tickets were beyond what many people could afford.
“Not everyone can afford to pay so much for a ticket. People may love football with all their hearts, but that doesn’t mean they can spend that kind of money to watch a match. So, when you look at the stands and see empty seats, please don’t assume that the passion is missing,”
The explanations were different, but they pointed towards a problem bigger than attendance. Planning and ticket prices can determine whether fans get through the gates; performances influence whether they want to return. Supporters still expect India to compete, not simply share a pitch with famous opponents. The responsibility, then, is not just to bring big teams to India, but to make the occasion accessible and give people a reason to keep coming back long after those teams have left.
A NEW GOVERNMENT, THE SAME TEST
Kolkata had more than a football match to get right when Brazil arrived in October 2026. Less than a year after the chaos surrounding Lionel Messi’s GOAT Tour became a global embarrassment, the city was back in the spotlight, with a chance to show it could host a major football event without a repeat of those scenes. It was a test of what the city had learnt from its previous failure.
Kolkata’s football story also played out against a changing political backdrop. The government that helped transform Salt Lake Stadium for the 2017 Under-17 World Cup was no longer in power, with the BJP replacing the Trinamool Congress after the 2026 Assembly elections. But politics aside, getting the venue ready for Brazil and Uruguay was a major undertaking, especially for a city still trying to move on from the chaos of Lionel Messi’s GOAT Tour.
West Bengal Sports Minister Indranil Khan was present at the stadium until 3 am on the eve of the Brazil clash, overseeing preparations. The result was 51,402 spectators attending the match. India’s friendly against Panama in Bengaluru, by comparison, drew 9,039. Brazil’s global appeal was always going to make a difference, so attendance alone cannot explain the gap. Still, Kolkata had turned the fixture into an occasion.
This is not about blaming one state government or giving another all the credit. It is about recognising the work involved while asking how much of that responsibility should fall on the state machinery. A minister staying at the stadium until 3 am may help deliver one big night, but the AIFF cannot expect state governments to carry out every major event.
Governments will come and go, but the responsibility of keeping stadiums in shape, organising matches well and making football accessible to fans will remain. State governments can provide the infrastructure, security and logistical support, but the AIFF cannot outsource the running of the game. Scheduling, ticketing, developing the national team and strengthening domestic football are responsibilities the AIFF must own.
WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THE SPOTLIGHT?
Hope alone cannot be the measure of progress, nor can one memorable night tell us how far the game has come. The real test is what changes between these occasions, when there is no global superstar in town and no international spotlight to draw everyone in.
India need better results, and the players must take responsibility for what happens on the pitch. But Indian football’s future cannot rest on the shoulders of 11 players alone. The officials and administrators watching from the VIP boxes have their part to play, too. They decide how the game is run, where the money goes and whether the infrastructure, planning and opportunities exist for the players to succeed.
In 2017, I left Salt Lake Stadium believing I had witnessed a glimpse of Indian football’s future. Nearly nine years later, I am still waiting to see how much of that promise can be carried forward. Not through another grand event or a few days of excitement, but through the ordinary work that makes football better, more accessible and worth following.
Because the next time I return to Salt Lake Stadium, I would rather write about how far Indian football has come than wonder, once again, why so much of its promise seems tied to the arrival of someone else.
– Ends
