AP photographer and the moment of hope amid Nepal's disaster: A lesson in resilience that sports must learn

I have spent 44 years standing on the sidelines of matches, watching people push beyond their limits on the pitch, on the court. I have witnessed impossible comebacks, narrow victories, and defining defeats. But there is a moment I did not watch through a screen, did not hear through commentary, but through the story of an AP photographer in Nepal, that made me realize that the true spirit of sport is not only in statistics or tactics. This is the story of Niranjan Shrestha, an Associated Press photographer based in Kathmandu, who captured the moment an elderly woman was rescued amid the devastating flash floods in Devighat, Nuwakot. While the floodwaters swept everything away, destroying roads, bridges, and claiming hundreds of lives, Shrestha did not only document the destruction. He captured a smile — the smile of an elderly woman just pulled from the raging water. That was a moment of hope amid the rubble. When I read the AP story, I remembered the 2026 NBA Finals, when the Cleveland Cavaliers came back from 1-3 to defeat the Golden State Warriors. People talked about LeBron James's greatness, about Tyronn Lue's tactics. But I saw something else: the resilience of people who never accept defeat. Just like the elderly woman in Shrestha's photo, they did not give up when the water was rising. The AP article is not about sports. But it is about the spirit of sport — the thing we often forget when we focus only on the scoreboard. Shrestha recounted that he had to use a telephoto lens to capture that moment in fading light. He spoke of luck with timing. But I know that, in my 44 years of observation, I have never seen a great athlete who relied only on luck. They create luck through preparation, through reading the situation, through always being ready in the right position. Look at how Shrestha works. He does not sit in an office waiting for press releases. He goes to the scene, where roads are washed out, where bridges have collapsed. He faces danger to record the truth. This reminds me of my days covering the 2026 World Cup, when I flew to Kazan to witness Germany being eliminated by South Korea. While everyone was shocked that the defending champions were out, I did not write a mournful piece. I went to a local beer hall, bought drinks for Korean journalists, and declared: "Germany died of arrogance, not weakness." Some called me a provocateur. But I was just doing my job as an observer: looking at the system, not at reputations. The AP article about Nepal taught me a different lesson. When disaster strikes, people often see only destruction. But Shrestha chose a different angle: he found hope. He did not deny the suffering — he acknowledged "immense destruction and suffering" — but he also captured the smile of the elderly woman. This is what sports need to learn: not to deny failure, but to always find the way forward. I remember the Liverpool 4-3 Man City match in 2026. While everyone was praising Kevin De Bruyne, I shouted on air: "Mohamed Salah will break the Premier League scoring record!" At that time, Salah had only 11 goals after 18 rounds. People laughed at me. But I saw what they did not see: a system in motion, a player in the right position, a preparation quietly unfolding. By the end of the season, Salah had 32 goals, breaking the record. Not because of luck. But because he, like Shrestha, was always ready at the right moment. People see Man City winning, I see a sleeping giant on the other side of the pitch. People see a photo of disaster, I see a lesson in resilience. That is why I write this article — not to analyze basketball or football, but to remind us that the spirit of sport does not only exist on the field. The AP article also gives me a perspective on humility. Shrestha admitted he was "lucky with timing." A great athlete is the same — they know that victory comes not only from talent, but from knowing where you are, knowing what you need to do. Arrogance is the greatest enemy of success. I saw it in the German national team in 2026, and I see it in teams that think they have won before the match begins. There is a detail in the AP article that made me think for a long time. Shrestha spoke about having to take photos in fading light. He had no choice but to use a telephoto lens and make the most of every moment. In sports, it is the same. We do not always have perfect conditions. The pitch is not always perfect, the opponent is not always weak. But the winners are those who adapt, who make the most of what they have. I have seen teams with massive budgets fail against smaller teams with bigger hearts. A 60-million player may not make the difference that a shy academy kid who observes can. I have said this many times, and I will say it again: Every giant's failure is a slap for those who collect names instead of collecting people. Shrestha's story is not about sports, but it is about people. And sports, at its core, is about people. When we see the elderly woman smiling amid the rubble, we see what sports always try to convey: never give up. When we see a photographer standing firm in a flood zone to capture a moment, we see the dedication every athlete needs. I do not know if Shrestha watches basketball. I do not know if he cares about the NBA or the Premier League. But I know that if he were a player, he would be one of the greatest. Because he has what not everyone has: the ability to see hope amid despair, the ability to stand firm when everything collapses, and the ability to turn a moment into an immortal story. Three years we chase a ball that seems unprotected, only to realize that what we are chasing is the silence between people's hearts. Ghost football, ghost basketball, all just games. But people are real. And moments like the smile of the elderly woman in Shrestha's photo are the most real things we have. As I write these lines, I am sitting in Chicago, thousands of miles from Devighat. But I feel like I am there, witnessing the moment Shrestha captured. I feel the vibration I usually feel when watching a great match, when a team rises from defeat, when a player scores in the final minute. It is the feeling of life, of hope, of a spirit that never surrenders. Maybe I am wrong to bring this story into a sports article. But I do not think so. Because sports, at its deepest level, is not about winning or losing. It is about how people face challenges. And there is no greater challenge than facing destruction and still finding hope. I will continue to follow matches, continue to analyze tactics and data. But I will never forget the lesson from Devighat: that the most important moment is not the moment of victory, but the moment when a person decides not to give up. And that is what all of us — players, coaches, journalists, fans — need to remember. The sleeping giant does not only exist on the pitch. It exists in each of us, when we think all is lost, when we think there is no hope. But the smile of the elderly woman in Shrestha's photo reminds us that hope always exists, if we are brave enough to see it. The German national team might have lost before the first ball was kicked — people were just not sharp enough to see it. And the true winners are those who know how to see the moment of hope amid the rubble. That is the lesson I draw from the story of Niranjan Shrestha, a man who is not an athlete, but one of the people I admire most in my journalism career.