As curtains fall in Athens today, India’s got a positive script

• Look beyond that 1/75 score: There is a theory that India sent simply too many athletes to the Games. Is there any point with 75 competitors, most of whom have no medal chance? Consider this:

• Three shooters made it to the final, a fourth missed out by one point

• One long jumper came sixth

• A relay team ran in a final

• A heptathlete finished 11th thanks to injury. Free of it, she was a long shot for the bronze.

• One archer reached the quarter-final, losing to the World No 1 by a single point

• Milkha Singh’s 400m record, standing since 1960, was broken by a young man running his first big race outside Asia

• Kunjarani Devi, the weightlifter, finished fourth

• A tennis bronze was lost after a 144-minute, 30-game deciding set

With luck, it could have been 5/75. Without the hockey team, it could have been 5/59. Is that an acceptable score?

• Get over glamour events: The problem is we watch the 100m sprint and moan, gaze at the swimming medallists and cry, stare at the boxing heavyweights and weep. These are not India’s potential winners.

• Focus on core competencies: In Beijing, shooting could win India half a dozen medals, archery could be a strong podium hope; wrestling and swimming will almost certainly win zilch. Where should the effort and the money go?

• Don’t lose hope on dope: Drug scandals are a global phenomenon. At these Games, competitors from Greece to Russia have been caught. The US sprint stars were a pre-Olympic casualty.

That doesn’t absolve India but should stop the self-abuse. The only areas where Indian sport is under serious suspicion are weightlifting and the field events—shot put, discus and so on. Everything else is probably clean.

The Indian Weightlifting Federation is in serious, serious trouble—but so are a million others. Take athletics. The men’s discus and hammer throw world records have not been broken since 1986. Florence Griffith Joyner’s 100m and 200m sprint timings are unmatched since 1988, Jarmila Kratochvilova’s 800m record since 1983. Anju Bobby George’s long jump event is burdened by a 7.52m record set by a Russian in 1988. How many of these are tainted?

As an IOA official puts it, ‘‘The drugs secrets are slowly coming out. In two to four years, sports will be much cleaner. Indian weightlifting is a dirty mess, but it is not alone.’’

Exorcise the Cold War demons: The Eastern Bloc died 15 years ago; Indian obsession with it didn’t. Indian weightlifters are troubled by a system swimming in murky Belarus waters.

In the men’s discus throw, Vikas Gowda, an Indian studying in America and coming into the Games after eight meets in the US this year, came 14th out of 40 in the qualifying round. Twelve made it to the final, Gowda was 0.52 m short.

His compatriot Anil Kumar trained in the Ukraine, taking part in five tournaments there in 2004. He fouled all his three attempts in suspicious circumstances.

Olympics are big business, so Olympians should be risk-takers: money is not a problem in Indian sport, provided you make it to a certain level.

Rajyavardhan Rathore got Rs 68 lakh from the government. He used it to go to Italy, putting his Army career on hold. Anju got close to Rs 20 lakh and used it to travel across Europe, train in California, far away from the comfort of middle class life in Chennai, from mother’s cooking in Kerala.

Abhinav Bindra, all of 22 and bringing to shooting the sort of air and audaciousness that is the hallmark of Saurav Ganguly, broke the Olympic record in the men’s 10m air rifle event.

It didn’t happen just like that. He’s been away from home for a year; while young people his age party in Delhi, this lad works, trains and lives in the anonymity of Colorado Springs.

One bad shot, just one, cost Bindra a medal. People told him, ‘‘Better luck next time. It happens. You are so young.’’ He hated it. ‘‘I came here to win a medal,’’ he said, almost grimacing, ‘‘not to break the record.’’

There’s a word for what this boy’s got—hunger.

Rajyavardhan, Anju and Abhinav could also have gone to the former Soviet republics for second-class training. They could even have stayed home and said, ‘‘What the hell? Chalta hai.’’ They chose the tougher route. We know where it took them. The road to Beijing has been paved. It is for India to take it.