টেনিসের খোলা কোর্ট নয়, ডেটার গ্যালারি: বাংলাদেশের টেনিস বর্ণনায় যে সত্যতা হারিয়ে যায়

আমার টেবিলে দুটি জিনিস কখনো একসাথে থাকে না — একটি স্টেডিয়ামের টিকিট, আরেকটি একটি ফাঁকা স্ক্রিন। রাজশাহীর বেসলাইন থেকে ফিরে আসা এক কোচ যখন বলেন, বাচ্চারা এখন খেলার আগে ফলাফল দেখে নেয়, তখন আমার মনে হয় আমরা এমন এক গ্যালারি নির্মাণ করেছি যেখানে দর্শক এসেছে ম্যাচ দেখতে, কিন্তু দাঁড়িয়ে আছে স্কোরবোর্ডের দিকে। টেনিস এই বাস্তবতার সবচেয়ে নিখুঁত উদাহরণ। কারণ এই খেলাটি নিজেই একটি ডেটা-সাক্ষর ব্যবস্থা — প্রতি পয়েন্টে কেউ একজন জিতেছেন, কেউ হেরেছেন, এবং সেই হিসাব সংরক্ষিত থাকে। কিন্তু এই সাক্ষর আমরা পড়তে শিখিনি। তাই বাংলাদেশে টেনিস নিয়ে যা লেখা হয়, তার সিংহভাগই থেমে যায় হাইলাইটের রিপ্লেতে, পৌঁছায় না সেই প্রশ্ন পর্যন্ত যেখানে বলা হবে, ১৯৮৯ সালের এশিয়া ওশেনিয়া সেমিফাইনালের পর বিটিএফ কীভাবে ধাপে ধাপে গ্রুপ ফাইভে নেমে এলো। আমার কাছে একটা তথ্য-স্তর আছে, আরেকটা আছে পেশাদারিত্বের স্তর। এই দুই স্তরের ব্যবধানই এই খেলার রাজনৈতিক ও অর্থনৈতিক দৈর্ঘ্য নির্ধারণ করে। কিন্তু দুঃখজনক হলো, সেই ব্যবধান মাপার হাতিয়ার আমাদের হাতে নেই। অন্য সব খেলাধুলায় আমরা অন্তত স্কোর নিয়ে কথা বলি। টেনিসে আমরা কথা বলি নক্ষত্র নিয়ে। এই অভ্যাসের মূল কারণ নিছক অজ্ঞতা নয়। এটি একটি কাঠামোগত পরিণতি — ঢাকা, রমনা, গুলশান, অফিসার্স ক্লাবের ভেতরে ঘোরাফেরা করা খেলাটির ভৌগোলিক ব্যাসার্ধ সীমিত, ফলে প্রায় সব প্রতিবেদন ডেটায় পৌঁছানোর আগেই ক্লাব-বর্ণনায় আটকে যায়। আমি গত বছর একটি জুনিয়র ড্র দেখে ছিলাম, সেখানে দেখলাম খেলোয়াড়দের বয়স নয়, র্যাংকিং সংখ্যাটাই বেশি চর্চিত। এটা যেন আমরা ফলাফল লিখছি, খেলা লেখছি না।Result of this habit: the collection of both reports and a summary of what amounts to a highlight. When a young player wins an ITF J30 title, the immediate public reaction is not about the level of the tournament or the quality of the field. It's about the whole career. And this is precisely the place where our data culture reveals its weakness. Because without a measuring stick, a victory can be built up into a coronation. At the same time, we know from the world of professional tennis that the conversion rate from a junior-level title to sustained professional contention is low. We're not saying this to dampen hope, but to keep the record straight. This is where tennis differs from football or cricket. In cricket, performance is discussed in averages. In football, in goal difference. But in tennis, the discussion is only about the final score. This is where the distance between the surface and the depth begins. The top ten seeds, the top thirty backbone tier, the top hundred fringe tier — these are not abstract labels, but real indicators of resource distribution. The problem isn't that our reporters don't know this. The problem is that our readers have never been taught this. The way we consume the sport has been trained by cricket. In cricket, a single ball can transform a whole narrative. But tennis is different. Tennis is built on points. Each point is a small game of chess, and its statistics are written down. If we don't read the account, the entire match becomes just a scoreboard. This matters most in the case of female players. BKSP has done some important work in recent years. But if you look at the structure of the reporting, you'll see that the details of their progress are often left out in favor of the boys' progress. This isn't deliberate neglect, but a reflection of how news professionals operate. When resources are limited, the news flow moves to where the audience engagement is highest. And so the question of female players' advancement doesn't appear in the sports pages — because the structure of the reporting itself isn't designed to hold that question.We need to be honest here. The absence of a school-level tennis court is not just an infrastructure problem. It's a data problem. Because when a sport lacks a grassroots base, its growth can't be measured. This is why the debate about tennis in Bangladesh is often limited to the question of why we aren't advancing. There's no data to answer that question. The basis for the question is missing. This is an important distinction. A question without data is not a question — it's an emotion. And emotion cannot be measured. This is also the reason why our industry analysis often fails. A player's position is determined by a ranking, and a ranking is determined by 52-week rolling points. Without that map, the discussion about a player remains stuck in whether they are good or bad. Now come to the opposite side. There's an argument that says we should use tennis as a tool for international recognition. It's a popular argument. But if you look at the structure of the tennis economy, it becomes clear that the process works the other way around. The economy of a major event is built first, and then the star arrives. Because the economy it creates is not just about prize money. It's about broadcasting, sponsorship, and the derivative market. Running an event of that scale requires a capital injection. In Bangladesh, that capital hasn't been formed. So the debate about international recognition makes sense only if we accept that our starting point is different. This brings us to the point I want to make most clearly. A major event host isn't a commentator. The job of a commentator is to provide information about the match. The job of a host is to search for context. Because information alone doesn't tell a story. If you just say, the player lost 6-3, 6-4, that's information. But if you then add, the player's serve percentage has been dropping over the last three years, that's context. And the story of tennis in Bangladesh is mostly missing that context. The reason isn't just that the narrative power of the media doesn't work, but that the data we have isn't structured. Data doesn't become information just by being stored. It becomes information when it's organized. And that organization requires a system. I want to say one thing about the media narrative. Tennis's anti-doping and integrity programs are handled by ITIA. Match-fixing, medical time-outs, off-court coaching — each of these is a rule controversy. But if you look at the reporting in Bangladesh, you'll see that these controversies are almost absent. Not because they don't exist here, but because the structure to bring them up isn't there. This isn't a failure. This is a structural flaw. And this gap in data matters most when we discuss a player's commercial value. Commercial value is not a matter of opinion. It's a function of TV ratings, ticket sales, and sponsorship contracts. If there's no data on those, the discussion becomes a rhetorical exercise. At this point, I want to draw a sharp line. The greatness of tennis isn't measured by the number of unforgettable moments. It's measured by the quality of its competitive structure. A major event or a domestic tournament both operate on the same competitive structure. A challenger event and a major — the difference is only in the size of the resource base, not in the structure of competition. When we understand this, we're no longer bound by the narrative that we can't be like the majors because we're not rich. Because some components of that structure are within our control. The entry density, the quality of the surface, the professionalism of the scheduling — these aren't matters of capital, they require competence. And competence isn't the opposite of data. Rather, competence is the result of data. When a structural flaw becomes clear, we have to ask a different question. Not why isn't tennis advancing. But whether we have a system that can measure what progress is. Because if we don't, one day a player will win a title and the news will say we're advancing. But no one will be able to show the proof. And the proof of tennis isn't in the scoreboard. The proof of tennis is in the account that's been kept. This is the difference between an event and a game. And this is where we need to decide what kind of spectator we want to be. Because the future of a sport is determined not by its players, but by its spectators. When spectators learn to read the account, the players learn to keep the account. And that's how change begins.