THAT night sometime in 1979, it was about four minutes before the final whistle that South Korea was awarded a free kick just a couple of metres inside the Malaysian half.
The ball was floated deep inside Malaysia’s penalty area and all but two South Korean players were ready to pounce, the team requiring that vital extra goal to march on to the 1980 Moscow Olympics. But, somehow, the ball was cleared off Malaysia’s penalty area and fell to the feet of our speedy striker from Sabah, Hassan Sani.
I was on the terraces of the great Merdeka Stadium that night as Hassan outran two South Korean defenders for almost the entire length of the pitch, squared the ball to his Sabah compatriot, the lanky James Wong, who then sidestepped a sole and hapless defender before unleashing a stiff grounder past the onrushing goalkeeper.
When Wong’s shot hit the back of the South Korean net, I suddenly found myself up in the air, being tossed by a group of jubilant Chinese fans also there to support the national team.
Football was then a unifying factor. Who cares about race for all of us won, and that’s all that mattered. Unfortunately, while Malaysia qualified for the 1980 Moscow Olympics, we boycotted the Games following the then Soviet Union’s invasion of Afghanistan.
Further in time, I remember tuning in and listening intently to the late Karim Mohamad’s voice on radio in my kampung each time Malaysia played in the Merdeka Tournament.
He would be narrating something like, “Chin Aun kepada Santokh, kembali kepada Chin Aun, hantar keatas kepada Isa, Isa cross, rembat oleh Mokhtar...goooaalll!!!”
I would be throwing my fist into the air listening to what was then the sweetest words from the commentator. We had no electricity supply yet at the time, let alone television, but oh, those victories were really something.
Like most Malaysians, I have been dreaming, too, of watching Malaysia play in the World Cup finals, at least once in my lifetime. For a while, I was confident of the dream being fulfilled. We were not inferior to the Koreans or the Japanese football teams then. We beat them on numerous occasions.
I have never missed following the final rounds of the World Cup since the 1974 Munich final when Gerd Muller deftly turned a couple of Dutch defenders before unleashing a shot that won the then West Germany the World Cup. The teams were tied 1-1 through much of the match after each were awarded a penalty earlier.
I thought Muller’s physical built looked quite like that of our legendary striker, the late Mokhtar Dahari and the German captain and fullback, Franz Beckenbauer’s calmness and ability to read the game was somewhat similar to our great Soh Chin Aun’s (now Datuk).
I never even bothered to compare Mokhtar’s ability to that of his rival, the Korean striker Cha Bum Kun, or Chin Aun’s masterclass to his Korean counterpart, Kim Ho Kon. To me, ours were simply better for we beat them regularly. But that was then. Both the Koreans and the Japanese have gone on and left us since then. Both are regular contenders in the World Cup finals of recent decades. We are also seeing more Korean and Japanese players playing in the European professional leagues. They, in turn, added more strength to their national teams.
The Malaysian national team, on the other hand, moved in the opposite direction. If matches against Thailand, the Philippines, Singapore, Indonesia and Laos were once just for us to accumulate points in regional tournaments, they are now becoming insurmountable challenges.
We even drew with Timor Leste recently. Our handful of players spotted by talent scouts from Europe only enjoyed brief stints there as they apparently opted for home-cooked food and the Malaysian life rather than the opportunity of improving their game.
The Football Association of Malaysia (FAM) has undertaken various measures to improve the standard of football in Malaysia. Many will not be surprised if the FAM were to say that it has run out of ideas. The national team, too, should be running out of excuses by now.
I thought the result against Timor Leste was difficult to swallow. For the past decade, I acknowledged that our national football team was performing badly but I could not imagine we were this bad. Being mauled 10-0 by any team is beyond humiliation. Perhaps it is time for me to come to terms with the fact that watching the Malaysian team playing at the World Cup Finals is simply an impossible dream.
The writer is NST group editor