Cambodian volleyball
The Economist has a view on the changing face of Cambodian volleyball.
Sport returns to Phnom Penh - One area where Cambodia is ahead of the game
Monsoon season in Cambodia brings muddy roads, swollen lakes—and volleyball. The timing is not coincidental. The players are mostly farmers, who have a short respite from their fields then. The game's other distinguishing feature is that its high-flying athletes, who strut their stuff in front of adoring fans, are all disabled. Littered with landmines, Cambodia has no shortage of amputees. The volleyball league began in 2002 with eight teams. This year it expanded to 16, each supported by a sponsor—an aid agency, a private company or, in one case, an international school. By world standards, it is a bargain: the league's annual budget is around $130,000, for everything. That is less than a day's worth of David Beckham's time.
This year's excitement has not ended with the league play-offs (won by the Phnom Penh Koupreys). From November 24th Cambodia hosts the World Cup for disabled volleyball, its first international sporting event since the 1960s. Reigning champions Canada will compete with other national teams to lift a metal trophy sculpted from melted-down AK-47s. Ranked fourth in the world, Cambodia fancies its chances. On an overcast afternoon at a weather-beaten outdoor court in Phnom Penh, training is under way. Most players wear made-in-Cambodia prosthetic limbs, a far cry from the high-tech artificial limbs favoured by international athletes. Practice is frenetic. During one volley, the ball hovers above the net for a split second before an airborne player punches it down with his left arm. He turns to slap hands with his whooping teammates. His right arm, which tapers off below the elbow, hangs at his side. Money is changing the league. Teams lure away top players with sign-on bonuses, including plots of land. Chris Minko, an Australian who helps run the league, says transfer fees are a sign that the league is no longer just a handout. A bigger concern is persuading companies—not just foreign NGOs—to adopt teams. As more investors take a peek at Cambodia's economy—General Electric opened a branch office in July—that, too, may prove just a bounce away.
Sport returns to Phnom Penh - One area where Cambodia is ahead of the game
Monsoon season in Cambodia brings muddy roads, swollen lakes—and volleyball. The timing is not coincidental. The players are mostly farmers, who have a short respite from their fields then. The game's other distinguishing feature is that its high-flying athletes, who strut their stuff in front of adoring fans, are all disabled. Littered with landmines, Cambodia has no shortage of amputees. The volleyball league began in 2002 with eight teams. This year it expanded to 16, each supported by a sponsor—an aid agency, a private company or, in one case, an international school. By world standards, it is a bargain: the league's annual budget is around $130,000, for everything. That is less than a day's worth of David Beckham's time.
This year's excitement has not ended with the league play-offs (won by the Phnom Penh Koupreys). From November 24th Cambodia hosts the World Cup for disabled volleyball, its first international sporting event since the 1960s. Reigning champions Canada will compete with other national teams to lift a metal trophy sculpted from melted-down AK-47s. Ranked fourth in the world, Cambodia fancies its chances. On an overcast afternoon at a weather-beaten outdoor court in Phnom Penh, training is under way. Most players wear made-in-Cambodia prosthetic limbs, a far cry from the high-tech artificial limbs favoured by international athletes. Practice is frenetic. During one volley, the ball hovers above the net for a split second before an airborne player punches it down with his left arm. He turns to slap hands with his whooping teammates. His right arm, which tapers off below the elbow, hangs at his side. Money is changing the league. Teams lure away top players with sign-on bonuses, including plots of land. Chris Minko, an Australian who helps run the league, says transfer fees are a sign that the league is no longer just a handout. A bigger concern is persuading companies—not just foreign NGOs—to adopt teams. As more investors take a peek at Cambodia's economy—General Electric opened a branch office in July—that, too, may prove just a bounce away.
posted by Andy Brouwer at
8:49 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home