On Saturday, Vijender Singh was crowned the World Boxing Organisation Asia Pacific Super Middleweight champion after a points win over Welsh-born Australian Kerry Hope in New Delhi. The Indian boxer earned himself and his country a first ever championship belt in the professional boxing circuit. It was a historic moment for Indian sport and a potentially seminal one for pro boxing in the country.

All of it had gone according to script. In front of a delirious home crowd, including a whole host of celebrities, Vijender’s triumph exhibited the best traits of professional boxing in a stupendous 10-rounder.

It was also his maiden appearance in India as a professional boxer and his first in the country since winning silver at the Delhi Commonwealth Games in 2010. A homecoming that had been six years in the making – the bout aptly titled “Return of the Singh”.

Vijender was hardly recognisable from the younger version who took to the ring in 2010. He had matured as a boxer. He had made sacrifices, taken tough decisions, survived difficult times, advanced his skill-set, worked on his body, progressed in his career and inflated in stature.

But perhaps, for India, he had been out of sight and hence, out of mind.

Although Vijender was now blockbuster material – worthy of having an entire event centred on him – his much-publicised return could not fill a mere 5,883-capacity stadium in the heart of the capital.

The Thyagaraj Sports Complex, which eventually hosted the fight, wasn’t even the first-choice venue to begin with. It was the much larger Indira Gandhi Indoor Stadium in Delhi, which can hold 14,000-odd supporters, that was supposed to be the venue for the event.

During Vijender’s fourth professional fight, commentators had even declared that the 14,000-seater venue “will fill up in no time”. But his promoters made a wise call.

This did not reflect poorly on Vijender or his promoters. He had spent the better part of two weeks promoting the fight rather than fully focusing on it – part and parcel of being a professional boxer.

India’s poor understanding with sport

He was seen taking selfies with ministers and cricketers, sharing space with Bollywood actors and television personalities, while also speaking to the media at every opportunity. He had done his fair bit to build up a fight that really should’ve sold itself considering its background.

This simply reflected poorly on the country’s understanding of sport and, once again, on its attitude towards sportspersons. Even more so in Delhi, where the culture of obtaining complimentary passes is seen to be directly correlated with a person’s standing in society.

During the weigh-in a day before the fight, Vijender felt it was necessary to appeal to the Delhi public to pay for their tickets and come and cheer him. He had received several requests for free passes in days leading up to the fight. “We’ll be lucky to get 1,500 spectators who would pay for their tickets,” a member of the organising team said.

A shade of hypocrisy

India’s apathy towards sport has more than just a shade of hypocrisy. In social media discussions and conversations outside of it, we go gaga over the likes of the late great Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson, and lament the country’s inability to provide us with sports personalities of such stature.

Yet, when a homegrown boxer, with the swagger and ability worthy of carrying Indian hopes on the world’s biggest boxing stage arrives on the scene, he is greeted with a lukewarm response. Heck, he is even inexplicably ostracised for leaving behind Indian colours to make a move to professional boxing – following in the footsteps of Ali and Tyson and essentially any other legendary boxer you can name.

Extend this to other sports in recent years. We were raving about football’s European championships in France all summer, but when the Indian football team had qualified for the Asian equivalent of the Euros after three decades in 2011, it earned little respect and practically no audience.

Prior to the Indonesia Open, badminton ace Saina Nehwal had suggested she gets more love in the host nation than back home. An International Premier Tennis League match witnessed 14,000-odd spectators in Delhi. Sure, it had great rivals Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal on show in a one-setter, but the tournament on the whole is a bit of a sham – an off-season exhibition of absolutely no significance to India or the tennis world.

The Olympics, too, is just around the corner: a four-year phenomenon in which the country expects medals from athletes and sports it has largely ignored since the previous edition. An utterly misplaced sense of entitlement.

Spoilt as a nation

Perhaps, we are just spoilt as a nation. We have been delivered a whole host of top-level sporting events directly into our homes at minimal cost by our broadcasters. Why then should we make the effort to go out and support our own athletes, who are clearly putting on an inferior show?

Remember the “Fight of the Century” between Floyd Mayweather Jr and Manny Pacquaio last year? Sony Six took a last-minute call to broadcast the fight with no additional cost to the Indian viewer. If you mention this to anyone abroad, they’ll be flabbergasted. It was a remarkable loss-making venture in a sport that makes a majority of its money from Pay-Per-View – a model that struggles to gain traction in India.

As an amateur boxer, neither Vijender nor his promoters would’ve been too worried about not filling up stadiums. As a professional, where promotion of a fight and marketability of a boxer is everything in the business, it’ll be a cause for concern. A professional boxer only survives the sport till he can draw an audience to watch him fight.

Vijender Singh deserved a bigger stage to fight on along with a better response back home. He’ll fight again in India soon. Let’s hope by then the country has come to terms with the enormity of his feats.

Akarsh Sharma is a Delhi-based writer. You can follow him on Twitter here and Facebook here.