The day power didn’t need a podium
There are days when power announces itself with speeches and spotlights.
And then, there are days when it simply ties its shoelaces.
On December 13, under stadium lights meant for a global football icon, Telangana Chief Minister A. Revanth Reddy chose momentum over ritual and kept things moving rather than staged. The exhibition match with Argentinian player Messi, a.k.a. the G.O.A.T., was not designed to be a test of administration or authority. Yet, somewhere between the first sprint and the final whistle, the Revanth vs Messi match became a low-key statement about energy, intent, and discipline.
Arriving warmed up & keeping pace, without noise
At 56, Revanth Reddy did not arrive at the Rajiv Gandhi International Cricket Stadium in Uppal as a symbolic presence. He arrived warmed up.
Those watching from the stands noticed it early. The ease of his stride. The way he read the ball before it reached him. The absence of hesitation. The Revanth Reddy that the audience and football enthusiasts saw the day was not a leader indulging in a photo-op. This was someone who had rehearsed his body for the moment where fitness didn’t look like it was performed but was very evident in his every stance and every kick.
Football, unlike politics, is unforgiving. It exposes fatigue. It reveals imbalance. It does not negotiate with age. Yet, as the game unfolded, the Chief Minister kept pace with players half his age – tracking back, pressing forward, calling for the ball, releasing it cleanly. No drama. No sensation. Just work. That he scored 2 goals was an added bonus to the already excited Hyderabadi crowd who
were hooting, whistling, cheering, and, of course, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
There was something deeply reassuring about that.
In a country where leadership is often associated with stillness – chairs, convoys, podiums – this was leadership felt on the ground, in action, in real time. Sweat on the forehead. Breath measured. Legs moving with purpose. Revanth Reddy’s was the kind of presence that does not demand attention but commands it, and earns it in style – quite naturally!
Running with the team
What stood out most was not the goals he attempted or the passes he made, but the way he inhabited the field. Alert. Light. Participative. He ran not ahead of the team, not behind it, but with it. That instinct, to move alongside others rather than over them, felt familiar to anyone who has watched his political journey.
Revanth Reddy has always been a kinetic leader – restless by nature and sharpened by it. Restlessness has always been indicative of his risk as well as his strength. On the football field, that restlessness translated into stamina. Into an unwillingness to slow the game down for comfort. Into the joy of play – involved and engrossed but not entangled, with a detachment from the game’s outcome.
Age, in this moment, felt irrelevant. Not by ignoring it, but by acknowledging it fully. Fitness, after all, is not about pretending that time does not pass; it is all about meeting it in full gear, prepared!
Still in frame when game accelerated
There was a telling moment mid-match when the tempo quickened unexpectedly. Younger players surged. The game tilted forward. And there he was – still in frame. Still running. Still available for the pass. And what an applause it drew! Spell-bound spectators watching from the stands couldn’t stop cheering and feeling mesmerised by their Chief Minister’s energetic performance on the field.
This had little to do with nostalgia or sentiment; it was a public display of discipline at work.
The symbolism mattered, and the message travelled quietly to drive home a point. A Chief Minister who trains. A leader who treats his body as an instrument, and becomes an inspiration, a role model to young spectators in a matter of a few strikes and a few hours. Revanth Reddy is clearly someone who understands that endurance, whether in governance or on grass, is built slowly – one day at a time – away from the spotlight.
Two journeys, one field
Messi’s presence brought the world to Hyderabad that evening. But Revanth Reddy’s presence grounded it. One represented genius refined over decades. The other represented consistency shaped by daily effort. Different journeys on a shared field.
By the end of the match, where the Chief Minister played alongside Singareni employees, as jerseys clung and legs slowed, there was no theatrical exit. Just a satisfied nod. A smile that carried relief more than pride. The look of someone who had honoured the game he holds dear and respects.
And, perhaps, that was the real takeaway.
What remained after final whistle
Leadership does not always need to be explained. Sometimes, it just needs to be seen – running, breathing, staying in the game longer than expected. Not chasing applause. And certainly not avoiding effort.
Just showing up fit. Showing up ready. And staying on your feet when the play demands it.
On December 13, football gave Telangana a brief pause from policy and politics. What it revealed instead was something simpler, and rarer.
A Chief Minister who still trusts his legs.