I remember how my father and uncle would talk about the legendary Quah Kim Song and his generational of exceptional footballers. I never got the chance to watch these players but managed to experience a little bit of the Kallang magic growing up. The highlight was when we did the double - that season I would watch the matches on TV and for the occasional game go to the stadium. The nights of the Kallang roar were unforgettable experiences.
Then came an equally unforgettable night though I wish I could remove its stain from my memories. The night that Singapore was trashed 4-0 by Malaysia. I think I left the stadium almost in tears.
It is one thing to lose. It is another thing to lose to a bitter soccer rival. BUT the greatest pain was watching our national players collapse in cramps. Some people would say it is because they gave their all, I say they didn’t prepare enough to play for the team. I’m not sure what anyone else will remember about that night, but that was the night I saw a team of players wearing the Singapore flag over their chest with no respect at all to what that means.
That flag means something. The right to wear that flag means something.
Anyway, like any love affair, I’m going to allow myself to be hurt again. So tonight, I’ll be heading down to the National Stadium to watch Singapore play Uzbekistan.
All the best Singapore. Do us proud.
Post a Comment