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When patience and a cool head would have kept him in the match, Akhil became impatient, and panicked. The more he fell behind on points, the more he attacked; the more he attacked, the more he ended up opening up his own defences, and the easier it became for the Moldovan to connect, and score. It was a sad downward spiral that Akhil had got into, and there was little time to think or recover. It was all over before he could understand what was happening, and Akhil's Olympic dreams lay in tatters. To have come so near to a medal, and lost to an opponent he clearly would have beaten on another
day, must be very hard to digest.

But he showed character. He didn't bawl in public, unlike the world champion whom he beat in the pre-quarters. Akhil's smile at the end of this bout was the saddest I have ever seen on a sportsman's face. And he didn't run and hide, like some Indian cricket captains have done after a defeat - he went straight to the journalists who were waiting for him, and took their shots on the chin. His last words at the press conference were, "Please don't forget me."

Don't worry, Akhil, you won't be forgotten. Not because public memory isn't short - it is - but because you are too talented not to bounce back. It is not for nothing that the other two Indian boxers who made it to the quarterfinals - Jitender and Vijender - idolise him.

Still, Akhil needs to learn from his junior teammate Vijender. Despite being India's last medal hope in boxing following Jitender Kumar's defeat earlier in the day, Vijender displayed nerves of ice in his quarter-final against Ecuador's Carlos Gongora. He fought a slow, steady fight. He is not half as exciting to watch as Akhil, but he has the qualities that Akhil needs to imbibe: a cool head, and patience. Vijender lived up to his promise by reaching the semi-finals, where he was
clearly outclassed by the Cuban boxer, Emilio Correa Bayeux.

However, what is most revealing is the fact that while Vijender lost to a higher-ranked opponent, Akhil beat his higher-ranked adversary, and lost to a boxer he was expected to beat. This just goes to show that, when two competitors are more or less evenly matched in ability, the decisive battle is won or lost in the mind. It is quite unfair to compare the two, but pound for pound, in terms of skill, Akhil, in my book, is a couple of notches above Vijender. The latter has done as well as he could by winning the bronze, but the former had the potential to win the gold and didn't.

Akhil fights with a lot of passion. Unfortunately, the Olympics are merciless when it comes to even the tiniest mistake. In eight minutes of fighting time, you get little chance to recover, and passion cannot help you if your opponent clamps down and practically squats in the ring, as Gojan did. Akhil provokes his opponents and wins when they lose their cool. But at the moment, his similarity with Muhammad Ali ends right there. Ali follows similar tactics, but he was a pretty cool and patient customer himself. His legendary Rumble in the Jungle bout against George Foreman is a hard lesson on the virtue of patience in boxing. If Akhil wants to emulate Ali by winning the Olympic gold, four years from now, he must learn to keep his head when things aren't going his way.

Having said that, reaching the quarterfinals of the Olympics is no mean achievement. And to catch the imagination of a nation of arm-chair athletes who, to begin with, weren't expecting even this much, is an even bigger accomplishment. Ivanisevic won his first Wimbledon at 30. And Akhil is only 27. Speaking to reporters after his unexpected loss, he had said, "Harney ka dum rakhna chahiye. Aakhir main boxer hoon." (I should have the stomach for a defeat. After all I am a boxer). Courageous words. They also give a clue as to why the Indian captain is a role model for boxers across the country, not just for Vijender. Make no mistake, Akhil will be back.

sampath@dnaindia.net